ith the steady migration of the caladaran from their ancestral home in the Rirro Jagka, the young race became quickly enmeshed in the other civilizations of the Prime. This fertile intellectual climate helped encourage the rise of the Republic, ushering in its great Golden Age. However, for staunch caladaran traditionalists, this period was as threatening as it was illuminating. Knowledge of magic and its diversity challenged long held assumptions about the role of mortalkind; war-like races and their brutal proclivities clashed with basic caladaran pacifism; and the unending multiplicity of animals, plants, and climates uprooted aging notions of the Prime itself. Change, it seemed, had become the only remaining constant.
Most disconcerting of all, however, was the steady transformation of extant caladaran religions. The Seer’s devoted increasingly divorced themselves from both the monastic traditions of old, and the restraint that accompanied them. In parallel, the Arbiter’s chosen steadily acclimated to the notion of war, even going so far as to acknowledge it as a path to enlightenment. Fear of this growing interracial fusion spread throughout many of the generation’s oldest sages. Their manuscripts and letters suggest that they longed for a return to the old ways, and in time, sought new divine attention. These conservatives grew distant from their Chadralnite and Jalassan cousins, deigning to stay within, or return to, the dangerous glades of the Rirro Jagka.
This caladaran splinter seemed destined to suffer, and struggled with the violent incursions of the alatharya, the kankoran, and the srryn. Many elders were slain, and their traditional records and settlements were put to the torch. According to legend, Chadraln and Jalassa gave birth to a new deity, who would preserve and defend the caladaran who had rejected the world of aelin and men. They named this young goddess Alajial, and Her influence was first revealed with the sudden spring of lilies from the barren earth of the ancient glades. Where these flowers bloomed, an aura of peace pervaded; here, the caladaran faithful found solace from the aggression which had so plagued them. Over time, optimism similarly blossomed within their hearts. Bearing the sign of the White Lily, Alajian monks eventually found the desire to again strike out into the world beyond.
The War of Night offered these missionaries great opportunity. As cities fell and armies clashed throughout the known world, Alajial’s message of peace and comfort seemed like an impossible fantasy. Yet, simultaneously, these ideas spoke to the needs of the injured, the fearful, and the war-weary. While other caladaran traditions locked themselves away in monasteries or delved into forbidden mysteries, these sages bandaged the wounded and tended the sick alongside the Tower of Salyra’s healers. Their unprecedented aptitude for soothing dark torments brought significant renown throughout the Republic. Alajial’s faithful argue that it was She who first gifted the knowledge of Spirit magic, before the revelation of Rystaia Lightbringer and Her ch’taren. Regardless of the veracity of this claim, there is little doubt that Alajian monks were among the first to explore the sphere after the War’s end.
In time, these monks and their successors would gain greater prominence with the development of a unified Spirit school. This influence gave their long-overshadowed religion a new and heightened credibility with the other races of the Prime. More importantly, though, it allowed the first serious dialog between Alajian contemplatives, cosmopolitan Chadralnite intellectuals, and the warrior-philosophers of the Jalassan order. In the modern era, Alajial has taken Her place as the third in the caladaran deific trinity. Her benevolence and affection grant solace to those who toil in dark times, and guide those who place others before themselves.