Of the birth of Haran, many things are said. The Bagi say
it was Barak, God of Battle who created the world so that he might populate it with creatures to war with one another and so honor him. The Incar say it was Karenas, The World-Bearer who thought Haran into being. This even though Trieste herself did not know how the world came to be. It did not matter, she said. What mattered was that there was Haran and there was The Abyss.
One was a world of light, and the other, a dimension of darkness.

Always it is this way. In all realities, in all universes, in all
beings there is that which devours and that which grows. When the world was young and unstable, wracked with earthquakes, pocked with volcanoes spewing ash and lava into the sky, drowned with constant floods, there was still life. There was no creature then to name them,
but those who came after called them dragons. They ruled the water, the land, the sky – no beast could stand against them. And it was this that proved to be their downfall. The dragons multiplied unimpeded for countless centuries, each breed at war with the others until the conflict built to a war that encompassed the globe. A hundred years passed that saw the face of Haran scorched, the soil befouled, the water tainted with the blood the countless dead until only a scarce few remained.