Before the first human kingdom, the world was said to have formed around Surn's buried body. Veyra rose from the first green shoot to break through the stone, while Odr emerged from the first shadow beneath that shoot. The three have been linked ever since, though no surviving myth explains who enclosed Surn or why.

The world grew around Surn, an ancient natural divinity enclosed beneath stone, root, and deep water. Mountains are Surn's bones, rivers are its slow thoughts, and forests are the nerves through which the buried god senses change. Veyra carries Surn's renewing breath across the surface, while Odr gathers what falls away and returns it to the deep. The seasons are the result of their unequal, wordless labor.

The religion has no universal hierarchy. Instead, it is a network of local circles: field-keepers devoted to Veyra, hearth-and-threshold keepers devoted to Odr, and silent stonewardens devoted to Surn. Most communities maintain all three traditions in uneasy balance. The stonewardens hold the highest ritual prestige but claim no authority, since Surn gives no commands. Disputes are settled through seasonal observances, practical omens, and councils of elders rather than doctrine.

The pantheon rarely intervenes openly. Veyra may answer urgent acts of compassion, Odr may reward clever survival, and Surn offers only ambiguous natural events. Priests therefore function less as prophets than as interpreters, gardeners, healers, undertakers, and keepers of dangerous local traditions. Rival temples often disagree while still sharing the same sacred sites, because all three faiths acknowledge that Surn lies beneath them.

The dead descend into the Rootdark, where Surn is said to weigh their lives in silence. Those who lived in balance become seeds of memory beneath the world; those who harmed the living are scattered as nameless dust. Veyra guides worthy spirits toward renewal, while Odr keeps the restless from returning.