The Ancient of the Mystveil Mire

Long ago, before the ages of man, a pair of ancients wandered the land. Their love for each other and their happiness spread throughout the land, invigorating the land itself. Their magics promoted the growth of the land, enticing vast forests and glades to sprout. These forests and glades became home to a great many beast and quickly became teeming with life and beauty.
During the the rise of man, many of those very beasts whom were drawn to these vast forests were hunted down and killed. This upset the ancients and thus their descent into sadness and grief began, with their tears came the start of the mysts. A young wanderer journeyed into the forests and through the growing mysts, where they came upon one of these ancients. Curious yet guarded the adventurer watched the great ancient, hiding himself within the foliage and outcroppings of rock deep with the valley the ancient resided.
The ancient sensed the adventurer through the magics that tied it to the land itself. Noting that the adventurer was not posing a threat, he merely pretended not to notice his presence. As time went on and the adventurer continued to watch the ancient, they saw the sadness within. During their observation of the ancient the adventurer determined that the ancients tears as they fell turned to the myst spreading across the land. Deciding that they must speak to the ancient, the adventurer came out of hiding to cautiously approach the ancient.
As the lone adventurer approached the giant tortoise slowly brought its head forward to look at them. "Hello... I was wondering when you would come down here." The ancient said in a slow drawl.
"You can speak!?" gasped the adventurer.
"Indeed." Drawled the ancient. "I am Sikander. Who... are you?"
"I am called Orlisara, o' Great one."
"What... brings you... to me Orlisara?"
"I am an explorer. I have come to see what is beyond the mysts, and what has caused them. I see that your tears seem to cause the mysts, are you sad Sikander?"
"Indeed... You bipedal beings are hurting the land... kiling my friends..."
"What do you mean?"
"Your kind... kills the creatures of this land... without remorse...They fell the trees."
Looking on Orlisara's eyes fill with tears. "What can I do to stop this Sikander? How can I stop this senselessness?"
"That is for you to decide... Old and wise.. I am... Yet only you can know that... Trust your own wisdom, young one."
"Thank you, great Sikander. I will reflect on all you have said and trust in myself and figure out how to stop this." Reaching out a hand Orlisara touched Sikander's face gave a nod and left. Orlisara returned to her village. upon her return she requested to speak to the chieftain to share what she had learned.
The chieftain listened with great interest, hearing every part of Orlisara's tale. "You can take me to this Sikander?" he asked.
"I can." Orlisara said trusting the wisdom of the chieftain. "I'm sure that if you were to speak to the great old one you might know what to do."
The following day they set out following the path Orlisara had previously took. On this journey she noticed there were fewer animals among the foliage as were there on her first trip. This struck her as odd, but she didn't question it, assuming that their travel was making more noise than she had on her own.
Approaching, the ledge she had looked down on Sikander previously she looked down to see that the mysts had intensified quite substantially. Carefully, they made their way down the side of the valley to its floor where Sikander was resting.
"Greetings Sikander." Orlisara called out. "I have brought my clan chieftain to speak with you."
Sikander slowly raised its head, tears flowing from his ancient eyes turning to myst as they fell, looked at the chieftain. Knowing what was coming he lowered his head. Seeing that something was wrong, Orlisara approached her hands up in a placating gesture. With practiced quickness the chieftain secretly drew his axe, swiftly rushed forward and brought it down driving it into Sikander's skull. As the axe split the skull apart the mysts turned green and black, and swirled about enshrouding all three of them.
With Sikander's death the mysts poured in through the chieftan's mouth and transformed him into a gnarled dead tree. As it continued to swirl the foliage around them in the valley instantly started to wither and die. At the same instant that the strike landed, miles away Sikander's mate Sharmila felt an overwhelming despair wash over her. She let the tears fall and the mysts shrouded the land and the metamorphosis from verdant forest valley to fetid mire began.
Orlisara let out a terrible scream of anguish as the chieftain felled the ancient Sikander. Those same swirling mysts enveloped her and changed her as well. Turning her from a beautiful young Elven maiden into a horrible disfigured hag.
Sharmila now wanders the mire looking for Sikander, while Orlisara is forced to live in his remains acting as a guardian of the corrupted Axe of Ancient Slaying as a punishment for bringing the chieftain to the valley.

Summary

Among the mysts and fetid swamps of Mystveil Mire an ancient wanders. She appears as a giant tortoise with a large tree growing out of her shell. Her indifference to the the realms of man, is palpable. Under the weight of the sadness of losing her mate, her steps further expand the mire around her. Shambling through the deep swamp she looks for her long lost love. Her sadness spreads across the mire any who come in contact with the mysts her tears cause, feels an immense spiritual weight upon themselves. Over time that weight grows heavier further oppressing and draining the spiritual energy of those afflicted, until ultimately they succumb to the overwhelming dread and die.

Historical Basis

Long ago in the first age of Aurelimoore, thousands of years before The Fall of Shards a pair of ancient beings wandered the land. These giant sentient tortoises traveled all across the realm. Something lost to the ages caused the male to die or disappear, and as a result the female grew overwhelmingly distraught and her sadness turn the vibrant forest around her into the fetid swamp now known as the Mystveil Mire.

Spread

This tale is known primarily on the continent of Aegis, where the Mystveil Mire exists. Though there are scholars throughout the realm that know of it. It is starting to spread among sailors who have been to the port cities near the Mystveil Mire. Through this idle sailors talk the tale has started to spread to the greater reaches of the realm.

Variations & Mutation

Some say that Sharmilla's tears only cause the mysts, the source of corruption is the Axe of Ancient Slaying.

Cultural Reception

Many in the surrounding tribes believe it to be true. In fact honoring Sharmila and building tributes to her, and telling her tale. Often presenting the tale through visual storytelling.

Others say that the Mystveil Mire was always a fetid mire and that it never was a verdant forested valley, and that Sharmilla and Sikander don't exist. They along with Orlisara are just stories told to children to keep them out of the mire and away from the dangers within.