My flames will purify the void.
When they cease, nothing shall remain. This is my will.
– Derajj, First of the Fallen, Lord of Flames
A demon has three names.
His third name – the curse of memory – was Jarun the Sleeper, dream-god of the world of Thranoi. Moths, secrets, and dreams were his purview; from the crystal perfection of the Jade Cocoon, he encouraged his followers to seek transcendence through silent meditation and guided dreams. Always changing but never born, the Sleeper brought inspiration to the wretched and guidance to the lost.
While his brethren wrought the Ruby Gardens from the Telvan Mount, Jarun slept.
While the first of the Flying Rivers was called across the Plains of Panar, Jarun slept.
While the gods of Thranoi toiled in the waking world, Jarun slept in jade, hearkening to the secret whispers of moths and lost dreamers.
And so Jarun's consciousness expanded, meeting other worlds in the song of the stars. And though the minds of Thranoi dreamt abundantly, the mortals and gods of the billion worlds begat dreams beyond measure. A god of secrets might wander forever through such bounty – yet Jarun pushed further still, into the pure darkness that the place between still possessed.
Far beyond the worlds where the Gods Above walked, the mottled prince touched a dreaming presence unlike any in the billion worlds.
It stirred in the darkness. It unfurled like a bladed rose.
The Voice Below awoke, and spoke three names.
As the Voice pronounced the curse of memory, Jarun was wreathed in the flame of nightmare, clad head to thorax in hatred. The Jade Cocoon shone with the blood-red light of his final metamorphosis, and the Voice that cannot be denied flowed forth into the dreams of Thranoi.
Each dreamer awoke in screaming horror, the song of the stars replaced by the word that ends all things. In mere moments, the eighty-eight Sages of Aurora marched into the Living Sea, the butterfly cities of Veda crumbled in an avalanche of scales and shredded wings, and the twenty-armed Yaros, who paints the night sky, set his creation aflame. The vast majority of mortals perished outright, and the gods of Thranoi received their names in turn. Amplified by the Aeon-blood in each new demon's veins, the Voice grew louder.
At the heart of Thranoi, the Voice's herald emerged, born in flame and scarred by the shards of the shattered Jade Cocoon. Mortals would call him Derajj the Sleepless, First of the Fallen, Lord of Flames – and the strength of nightmare would carry him to countless worlds. Now only one remains – Aeos, the Driftworld – and he will see it burn.
Thus Dawnhold's greatest enemy was born! There's a lot of lore where that came from – so what boss would you like to read about next? Let us know on the Forum!