Humans make up the largest share of Thrensea's people, spread across every city, coast, and frontier. They carry no innate gift from aether, building their strength through trade, craft, and sheer numbers. Since the release, a small number have learned to feel aether moving through the world and bend it to their will. Most never do.
There is nowhere in the world without a human settlement, and no guild, army, or court without a human hand in it.
Terran bodies are formed from stone: granite, basalt, marble, slate, no two quite the same. Instead of hair, many grow crystal formations or trailing moss across the scalp, unique to each one. Aether burns faint and constant at every joint, holding stone to stone.
Before the aether release, they stood as statues in old ruins and riverbeds across the world, shaped by hands nobody remembers. When the release came, it woke what had been waiting inside them all along.
Riven were human once. They lived closest to the site where the portal opened, and when aether surged out for the first time, it tore them apart down to the last thread and put them back together somewhere between one heartbeat and the next.
Not everyone survived the remaking. Those who did came back changed: taller, slender, with ears drawn to a point, and sharper in eye and reflex than any human had been. Aether rebuilt them better than it found them.
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