I wrestled with how to do this properly, Mirrorvale as a county and an idea remains bound in its focus and so the following submission will feel anemic in regards to geography, because this is a place built on theme, judge it as you will but I had fun condensing such a thing to seven hundred and fifty words, enjoy and feel free to visit us Here

People tend to think of time as chapters in a book, often as is the style in the Lowlands the narrator writes from their own perspective with chapters that follow the complete history of their life from conception to conclusion. In the Highlands the narrator is apart from the story, letting the chapters unfold chronologically, documenting the colorful notes while detached from the plebian events.

I am not from the Lowlands or the Highlands but from the First lands.

My name is Elric Black and I have been called a genius, a madman, the count of Mirrorvale, and yes all of these are true.

I could say that this isn't my story, that this is only the story of the county of Mirrorvale, but it is nearly impossible to separate the two for Mirrorvale was formed from a need, and for a purpose. Long ago the lands of Elyria were filled with magic, wonders were devised every day in a nation committed to making life easier, though often more dangerous for many.

It is disingenuous to paint a picture of paradise over the ugly truths of a world long dead. We had conflict and oppression as exists in all ages. There were atrocities committed that I can not impart a proper scale, for how would you describe the loss of a single city of a million souls in a pyre of Magefire and alchemist pitch, to someone that has never seen even a hundredth that number in the whole of their existence?

To be concise, I was born into affluence, fought for my inheritance, was cheated out of my birthright by a being which we can call the only true "evil" I have ever met, made a pact with an eldritch power, to call it a "Dragon" carries too many connotations, and while I successfully saved my family and home, I damned myself and them for what may be all of time.

I Elric Black made a promise, a pact to reverse the decline of magic that was only just beginning as I was a child. I could not have known what a mistake agreeing to this task was.

Know that we had hobbled along at the end, using the remnants of magic like crutches. Instead, I found a looking glass to stand firm and hold up to the world. Through the sciences, I found hope and purpose.

Oh, we were aware of the power of science in earlier ages, but it was like a toy when pitted against the mystical. A child bleeding to death could be saved through magic, the wounds burnt closed instantly, where the sciences would have you sterilize and stitch.

In truth it was only harder, it was actual work, which in that chapter of history was something that, not unlike today, was avoided by the nobility.

The county of Mirrorvale has been like a garden to me, for hundreds of years and hundreds to come I tend to these lands of potential. I prune the mundane and cultivate the things I believe have a chance to rocket propel... I apologize, to catapult Elyria beyond the mirror's veil, beyond the flat existence that has become of Mann and into a new golden age of discovery. I have gathered like minds, brave visionaries to nudge and guide us into the maelstrom engine of progress and take but one more step forward against the decline.

When you speak of Mirrorvale, please take a moment and ignore me, ignore the madman obsessed with magic, festivals of masks, and a thing called science. Speak of the progress of the great port city of Sajerra where all things can be acquired, speak of the sanctuary of Mercy touched by the gods and devoted to the redemption of Mann, of the City of Dystane where even hunted abominations find peace and equilibrium, and at the counties heart, the engine which is Parallax, a factory of the obscure, she presses the land both above and below and is home to a university of impossible knowledge spanning many kilometers alongside the great æther gardens which light an undercity clawed from the earth by the sheer willpower of a family, and the broken bodies of countless thousands as the ages wound on.

She is not perfect, and she may never be perfect. But this I know; none of us will truly be free without a chance to unmake this dam for power and knowledge, for the great work to finish Mirrorvale must thrive.