Magic is life itself, the life energy of the planet. It is the creator of all life. Therefore, there is a cycle that the death of living beings strengthens nature, since the flow of life inherent in them practically flows back into the planet. Some cultures may refer to this as giving your life back to the Stream of Life. For them, life after death is a return to the seas of mana. In certain magic, powerful entities can charge the planet's energy. In practice, this means that they give back their own life energy of their own accord. This strengthens the planet, but weakens the body. Not many choose this, but dragons do. When they retire to the caves for many years, they spend the stream of life, at the cost of weakening their own power.

Since certain forces, such as the priests of Rawadar, are able to bring back the dead, this proves that the soul itself is not taken away, since it is one of the life-giving elements itself. The body is practically completely destroyed, as the constituent elements flow back. The Death Gods and their Anointed are skilled at creating an open connection with the Life Stream or the Sea of Spheres and the souls that float within, whichever one we are talking about. They speak to and help the souls to the afterlife, but sometimes the soul does not melt in immediately, it does not disappear on its own. Due to this, the universe is not an evil force, but a force that is necessary for Life to survive. It is unclear whether there is a possibility for the soul to return or reincarnate. Certain cultures believe in it.

The same applies to the Immortals, although with them the disappearance of the body is a much slower process, and with them the soul does not separate from the body so clearly, since the ether is not made up of elements. It can also happen that an embittered immortal can simply end his existence, simply giving back the ether that lives within him.

Death and decay have countless servants and messengers. In fact, even in the Age of Legends, it was taboo to talk about them. Yet their presence has crept into the tales and customs of every culture. They can only be seen when the winds of passing sweep across the landscape where something has died or is destined to die. They come under the cover of night, with soft, silent footsteps. Their faces are beautiful, smiling and sad at the same time. Like a mask. A death mask. In which the dying man thinks he discovers his own features. They adapt their bodies to the environment: the decaying acorns and leaves in the forest, dead shells and corals in the sea, the bare rock. They never say anything, they just come and go, quietly. But they always take someone or people with them. They are not evil, just like humans. They are dull, sad, comforting. They are called differently everywhere, bad children are often scolded with them. Only a few people know their real names, only the oldest of the ancestors. They are the harbingers of the passing away, the draúrs.

A kind of silent wraiths who can still be found in places close to nature. But today they are only seen among those who are still strongly connected to the Life Stream, near the progenitors, during the death throes of a powerful mage. After all, they are interested in one thing: death. And where there is little life flow returned in large quantities, the passing of many can only make up for it.