The golden swords and silver lances were shattered, torn down by the jade hounds. Starlight glimmered and twisted fate, as the golden god-kings of the first age were destroyed and betrayed by their servants.
Once... there was a god-king, a mighty general of the Dawn. He wished for a mighty army, strong enough to wage war against the legions of demons that the primordials sent against him. Strong enough to at least capable of standing on the same battlefield as a dragonblooded. But he could not use dragonblooded. His... pride, and his refusal to see them as fellow Exalts, stopped him.
So he contracted his friends and battle-brothers, asking. 'Please, give me a device. One that would allow me to bring mortals to their heights and zenith. The greatest that they could ever reach, so that I do not need to bow my head and humble myself and ask for a mere terrestrial's help'. And the twilight agreed. For they were friends.
And twilight laboured. She called up the factory cathedrals. She took ingredients and expertise from the Princes of Hell. And she made a device, one that could take numerous shapes, from a wand to an ephermal light that could bind to a human, to a bath or a pond to dip in, or a fan. 'Use this.' She said. And the Dawn was glad.
And the Dawn died, choking to death on his own blood, his internal organs ruptured by the venom of the yozis passed inside by a dragonblooded attendant. His followers took up arms, prepared to die to avenge their master, prepared to spill an ocean of blood to kill his assasins... that was turned all moot, as a weapon of mass destruction threw their entire region and fief into the Wyld.
There, the device fell, further and further away, warded against the deprivations of the Fair Folk... until it fell, onto a world filled to the brim with war and conflict, to an island nation brought to its knees, to a small girl who lost everything.