Many races believe that their own people were the first sentient beings to come into existence, but the sylphs make no such claims. On the contrary, the creation myths of the diminutive woodland folk hold that the world of man was long in evidence ere the race of sylphs emerged.
Their tales speak of men as greedy, thoughtless creatures who brought destruction to the forest with axe and torch. Unable to flee from the bite of steel of the lick of flame, the root-bound trees had no recourse but to beseech the gods for succor. It was Ramuh, a deity of man, who heard their agonized pleas, and thence sent his levinbolts to strike budding fruits from ancient branches. Born of lightning and blessed with secrets, the sylphs awoke from charred husks to serve as the forest's protectors. Ever since have their kind dwelled beneath the Black Shroud's canopy, defending their domain with the arcane wisdom bestowed upon them by the Lord of Levin himself.