The First Silence is exactly what it sounds like: the beginning of things, or the end of something we don’t remember losing. Scholars insist it marked the moment before “history” began, which is convenient for scholars because no one can prove them wrong.
Little survives from this period, which is understandable. Most worlds don’t bother saving receipts from their earliest mistakes. What fragments we do possess tend to be quiet, severe, and unhelpfully vague — the kind of objects that seem to be waiting for someone else to speak first.
Items from the First Silence often appear polished by time rather than use, as if handled by nobody at all. They are simple, stubborn things, carrying the personality of a locked door or a child who refuses to explain what happened to the vase.
Whether the First Silence was peaceful or ominous is still under debate. The artefacts aren’t talking, and frankly, they seem proud of that.