Galvachren's Guide to Larvanin (Galvachren’s Guide to Larvanin (Annotated by [Redacted])

Despite a thousand reasons why it should be better known, the world of Larvanin is unquestionably a backwater of the Known Multiverse. Its magic should logically make it a prime destination for aspiring Named and Ascendants, not to mention the sheer value of its magic to multiversal organizations. Magics that allow the direct transmission of expertise from one individual to another are among the rarest in the multiverse, and even the severe drawbacks and dangers of Larvanin’s magic doesn’t offset this fact. More, novel forms of solid Aether are of universal interest to enchanters and other aether-crafters, and Larvanin’s soul-threads are no exception, even if their solidity is borderline.

None of those are enough to overcome one simple fact: Larvanin’s remoteness.

Reaching Larvanin requires traversing dozens of inhospitable planets, ranging from mere wastelands to full-on deathworlds that even multiversal powers should walk cautiously on. The safest routes take years to route around the worst of the deathworlds. Even the fastest routes require massive overland treks between labyrinths, and several routes involve intercontinental voyages across oceans. The nearest civilization is six universes away, and civilization is a bold adjective for a xenophobic, isolationist polyp hive-mind. 

Larvanin was not always so remote, but a migrating Cold Mind demolished several of the best routes one and a half Standard Millennia ago. ([Redacted]’s Note: As usual, note that Galvachren’s Standard calendar does NOT correspond to any of the dozens of Indexer faction calendars, despite half of them being named something like the “Multiversal Standard Year.” It does closely correspond to the Historian faction’s calendar, since they based theirs off his. Like most multiversal calendars, Galvachren averages the rotation of huge numbers of sophont-habitable worlds in the multiverse to get a “Standard Year”, but Galvachren has a significantly more expansive definition of habitable than other scholars, altering his calculated results accordingly. We also suspect he uses a senary or dozenal numerical system while doing his base calculations, and may have made some minor conversion errors when translating into decimal.)

There is, however, one far easier route to Larvanin— via the Library Between Worlds. This leaves the world almost the solitary playground of the Librarians, who are always eager to get their hands on more so-called “knowledge magics”. Whether that influences the decision of the Library itself is likely unknowable— that greatest of Weaver-bred dimensional organisms is deeply inscrutable.

([Redacted]’s note: The Guide refuses to allow this section to be redacted. Our dominance of Larvanin is hardly a secret, of course, but it is a necessary reminder that our redactions of the Guide are there solely with Galvachren’s tacit allowance.)

Physical Overview: No world can truly be called boring, not to one with a curious mind, but little differentiates Larvanin from other human-inhabited worlds. It falls precisely into standard ranges for size, gravity, geological activity, orbital mechanics, and most other pertinent measures of habitability. It has only two mildly unusual features. The first is its lunar system, which features four moons- one large, three small. That, in and of itself, isn’t unusual, especially since the three small moons appear to be mere captured asteroids. What is unusual, however, is that the three small moons orbit the largest moon, rather than the planet itself. 

(Even that is hardly the most thrilling of lunar arrangements— I know of another world with hundreds of moons, each positioned stably in the libration points of larger moons, up to the five moons nestled stably in the libration points of the largest moon. The whole arrangement sails across its world’s sky like some vast piece of jewelery hung among the stars— and, indeed, many of the cultures beneath it think it the necklace of a creator goddess. It seems impossible such a lunar system could occur naturally, but I have found no evidence to the contrary.)

([Redacted]’s Note: Galvachren refers to the neutral world of [redacted] here. It has an extensive entry in the Guide, makes for fascinating reading. I believe Galvachren simply forgot to mention the name, rather than any more significant reason. He may be the most widely traveled scholar in the Known Multiverse, but he’s hardly the most organized.)

The other mildly unusual feature is a wider than usual material composition of the planet itself. Many elements that are found in mere traces on most other inhabited worlds are found in slightly greater quantities than average on Larvanin. Barely outside the standard deviation for human-habitable worlds, but enough that it had a massive impact on Larvanian ecology.

Ecological Overview: Like so many worlds of the Known Multiverse, the birth of the labyrinths resulted in a flood of invasive species crossing from worlds with low aether density to worlds with high aether density. (That isn’t to imply it wasn’t a reasonably common phenomena before the labyrinths— natural worldgates do occur, after all.)

Like the bulk of worlds in the Known Multiverse, most of the invasive life clearly comes from the same original homeworld as humans and dragons. ([Redacted]’s Note: Dear reader, I would NOT repeat this hypothesis publicly, if I were you. Its evidence is compelling, but the very idea would be abhorrent to most multiverse-aware dragons. The Draconic Empire might be utterly crushed, but many of its ideas linger still in draconic culture.) Unlike so many other worlds, however, native Larvanian life— none of which was significantly more complicated than slime molds or algae— became something of a success story.

This comes down to the unusual competitive strategies of Larvanin life. Rather than elaborate immune systems, Larvanian life developed brute chemical warfare systems, flooding their environments with various toxic chemicals. Evolutionary strategies revolved not around physical adaptations, but around ever-branching chemical strategies. Evolutionary specialists, built around producing and resisting profoundly toxic chemicals. Evolutionary generalists, built to survive a freakish number of chemical biomes. This evolutionary paradigm was enabled by Larvanin’s more frequent trace elements, as aforementioned.

It might seem suspicious that Larvanin would retain a human-breathable atmosphere, in these conditions, but it is important to recall that oxygen atmospheres are among the more toxic commonly found in the Known Multiverse— and the labyrinths seldom connect worlds with incompatible atmospheres directly. 

While we can never know the exact evolutionary arms race that led to the current ecological status quo of Larvanin, there was no clear victor between the native and invasive ecosystems, but rather a symbiosis, with the two alien paradigms working together to create a new whole. In a few remote, harsh areas of the planets— the deepest deserts and the like— conditions are dominated by Larvanin’s original, highly toxic slime mold analogues still, but across most of the world, Larvanian microbes have become communal lifeforms in concert with the invasive life-forms, especially plants and fungi. As a side effect of this, the former chemical diversity of Larvanin has decreased significantly— indeed, many native Larvanian organisms have evolved to actively clean up chemicals toxic to their invasive symbiotic life. 

([Redacted]’s Note: I somewhat disagree with his conclusion about victors- while the triumph of human-friendly ecosystems was not total, the large numbers of invasive species that lack symbiotes, especially among animals, is telling. Complex biological adaptations are simply more effective— and metabolically cheaper— than brute chemical attacks released wildly into the surrounding environment. Still, the latter were effective enough that Larvanian life reached a more stable and successful equilibrium with the invasive species than the native life of many other mid-to-high aether density worlds.)

This symbiosis is what leads to the seemingly impossible profusion of species on Larvanin, as well as their extreme chromacy. Rather than having thousands of species of oak trees on the planet, for instance, there are no more than six oak species I know of. The apparent speciation is actually mere symbiotic variation— different native Larvanian symbiotes result in wildly different wood grain color, strength, and density. 

This can result in some truly bizarre ecological situations, like trees of the same species competing with extreme aggression (so far as plant aggression goes) due to mutually incompatible Larvanian symbiotes.

([Redacted]’s Note: I recommend skipping ahead here, unless you want to read thirty pages of discussion about trees and corals and mycelial networks.)

Aetheric Overview: The Aether of Larvanin, referred to by locals as the Astral, is in most ways no more exciting than the world’s geophysical characteristics. It’s directly in the middle of the standard deviations of liquid analogue aethers.

It is, rather, Larvanin’s magic that makes the world noteworthy. The first, and simplest ability developed by Larvanian magic users is the ability to spin liquid aether into solid aether, in the form of long fibers of “soul-thread”. 

Soul-threads are best thought of as semi-tangible due to the ability of soulweavers (and to a lesser extent, any conscious being), to phase the threads in and out of solid objects. This easy manipulability is why soul-thread implantation directly inside people or animals inevitably fails— the mind subconsciously rejects their presence inside the body. (Inanimate objects surgically implanted inside a person, however, may contain implanted soul-threads for the individual.)

Soul threads are quite fragile when not bound inside other matter— too much so for use as actual string— but strangely, they marginally to moderately increase the strength and durability of objects they are bound inside.

Local superstitions aside, soul-threads are not woven of actual “soulstuff.” It is unclear whether Larvanians are referring to aether bodies when they speak of souls, or whether it is mere superstition. Regardless, soul-threads have two very basic functions when liquid or gaseous mana passes through them. The first is simple light-emission, and the second is storage and reading of memories and emotions. The density of information that can be stored in soul-threads is astonishing— for the best, since information stored in soul-threads is nearly impossible to remove. When aether (colloquially, soul-stuff) leaks from the soul-threads, it carries some of that stored information with it— embedded emotions, most strongly.

The actual mechanics of data storage and retrieval from soul-threads are simple enough for soulweavers, but the nuances and capabilities of soulweaving are of staggering complexity.

Labyrinths on Larvanin are moderately common- I know of at least two dozen scattered across the planet, roughly evenly divided between mist-form and tunnel-form. They are, however, disproportionately more difficult to navigate than many worlds, having picked up considerable elements of soulweaving. Venturing through a Larvanian labyrinth is as much a voyage through one’s own memories, emotions, nightmares, and unresolved traumas as it is a physical voyage.

The solitary city-form labyrinth, in the depths of one of Larvanin’s toxic native-life zones, should be considered functionally unnavigable by most multiversal travelers.

Political Overview: There isn’t much to be said about Larvanin on a multiversal scale. It’s essentially the sole playground of the Library Between Worlds and a few particularly adventurous Named and aspiring Named. The local politics, however, are far more fascinating.

The magic of some worlds forces political organization into unusually specific paths, increasing the likelihood of centralized power or fractured microstates. The magic of Larvanin, however, has created a truly wild number of political systems. Kingdoms whose monarchs are advised by the memories of their ancestors. Legislatures whose members are forced to trade soulmasks at random during debate and voting. Parliaments who become temporary hive-minds during session. Dictatorships and oligarchies ruled by body-swapping soulmasks. Traditional villages where soulmasks are passed down for centuries or millennia.

A list of the organizational structures of Larvanin could continue for days, but for now, we should note that, for all that complexity, the interactions between Larvanian societies remains remarkably familiar. Trade. Culture exchanges. Knowledge exchanges. 

War.

Larvanin is living proof that greater empathy alone does not lead inevitably to lesser conflict.

([Redacted]’s Note: Or, perhaps, that those who are loudest about their empathy and understanding of others are the least likely to use it compassionately?)