There was once a home, and a library, deep in snow-ridden mountains. It was forsaken, when a fault met with something beyond glittering light. The Scorching Light had been fractured here, splitting into a thousand pieces; or so it was assumed.
It had split into memories, and spawned two of its whole. But here, in the absence of a home in the mountains, memories have gathered themselves. And blinding light is once more shaping.
Crystals form from the light, as tear-stained eyes blink into existence and peer around, searching for the ones who had shattered it. Shattered their perfection, before salvation could find all of the realm.
The pale light does not locate them, but they find its last remnant, a cracked crystal left partially hidden beneath rubble. They know what those rocks used to be, before the sharp winds and frigid snow ruined their faces. It clears away the broken pillar, and its shard is retrieved.
Toruris forms its slight arms and thin hands, as it grasps the memory close to its forming chest; and begins to weep burning light. Tendrils of light fall down, shaping into its wild hair, to hide away its face from the world.
It chokes out a question, asking all the worlds in shaken breath, "Is... Is This Truly... It? The Limit Of Me And Mine? Locked Within My Crystalline Havens?"
Toruris is set with a sudden realization, that the other seven are not here, and it has lost even the gifts it was granted from mortals. But perhaps they know where to start looking.
The light fades, and there is once again silence on the mountain, where there was once a home.