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A planet grown from frozen spells.

Where the ley lines breathe.

It shows up on scans. It shows up differently on every scan.

The magic here is frozen solid. Someone will find a way to mine it. Someone always does.

A planet-sized machine. Nobody knows what it does. Nobody knows how to turn it on.

Nothing here but ice and the memory of warmth.

The Resonants know something everyone else has forgotten. They're not telling.

They used the magic until it had nothing left to give.

Cold enough that civilization took twice as long to start. Now it's finding its footing.

Life is here. Magic is arriving. Something interesting is about to happen.

Young. Angry. Absolutely uninhabitable.

The third prepared world in the Praxian Reach. This one they left in a hurry.

Also seeded. Also abandoned. Whoever did this had a plan. It's unclear what.

Someone built this world's magic before anyone living was born. Nobody knows who.

Its rings are older than most of the planets in the Milky Way.

Two suns. Two shadows. The magic changes depending on which light you stand in.

Still cooling. Give it half a billion years.

Beneath the ice, Nelviran instruments detect warmth that has no geological explanation.

They didn't choose between magic and science. They chose both.

No civilization known to science has the technology to build this. Yet here it is.

They reached the stars. Now they're learning what's waiting there.

Nothing on Mirren has learned to build yet — but something is getting close.

A slow amber titan watching Dharak's endless wars from a safe distance.

Five Orders. One world. No peace.