Just a short intro into what this post is about: since I like to write things, I thought I would share my universal origin story. It's not perfect - it's not really meant to be part of anything exactly - but it hopefully paints a picture of what my world is supposed to be based on.
So, without further ado...
Before the beginning, before the possibility of
anything resembling one, there was a being. To our minds, this being was a god,
given the capacity to know, comprehend, and foresee all possibilities of all
worlds. He was alone, floating through the massless void simply existing. How
long did not matter because there was no measure, no feeling of time in this
place. All the same, he was lonely. Occasionally, he would spend his time
building things: worlds, unpopulated and perfect; abstract, lifeless puppets
that amused him for a time; even creatures with a small measure of his
intelligence. For all his tinkering, he did not make a creature that was like
him, full of creativity and intelligence, full of true life. It was not that he
feared life. He wanted to make sure when he did create it, that it was perfect.
Finally, he allowed his will to create the
first thing with its own spark of ingenuity. It started out small, fitting
easily into the palms of his hands. It rolled around them, as though trying to
map them. Over time, it began to grow. A small point of life and light within
the shapeless void. The God marvelled at it. For the moment, the creation did
not know its master from the void, but that did not bother him. He knew that,
given time, it would grow to know him. So, there he sat, fascinated by the work
of his hands, the Source of True Life.
As it grew, it began to float around him,
exploring the vast nothing that they were a part of. Spitting and gurgling with
the ambition to be more, to be better than it was, it grew and changed. It
would expand and contract, change shape and colour. From time to time, the God
thought he saw a world within the
being that the god had not intended. He felt no fear – indeed, what God would
feel fear when he knew all? – but at the sight of that world, he felt a
pinprick of apprehension.
Eons passed in seconds. This Source of True
Life flared and spat, expanding as though it wished to fill the entire void – a
contradiction in terms to be sure. Rather than simply allowing its God a view
inside, the being, through many somersaults and backbends brought the world
inside out. It was a mess, an amalgamation of lights, whirly-gigs, and motes
stuck inside a black, gelatinous-looking space, an ever-expanding glob of pure life. Spinning delicately at the centre
of the chaos was the Source, ever shrinking into a point of utter dark, sucking
all light into itself until it became nothing more than a speck in the eye of
the god. Then, as suddenly as it contracted, it expanded again, spitting out
more lights and motes than it had before. The inky black of the mess continued
to grow as the Source continued to shrink. The god was wary at first, but soon
realized that if he wanted to watch any more of this process, he needed to be in it. So, without much more thought on
the subject, he entered the chaos.
As soon as he stepped inside, the residue of
the chaos clung to him and he was aware of a constraint on his infinite being.
Form and time shackled him, slowing him, dragging him, diverting him from the
course he was attempting. Distracted momentarily, he lost sight of the Source.
When he made his peace with his constraints,
adjusting them to suit his needs purposes, he turned back to the Source, knowing
exactly where he had left it. In an instant, he was before it; it had ceased
its frenzied diminution and now spun slowly at the very centre of the expanding
space. As the god watched, the Source took on time and form, as he had, and
began to shed its chaotic grace. A shell of flowing fire formed on its surface.
As that formed a crust, new flows erupted from the Source, creating new crusts.
Layer upon layer, the Source formed a protection for itself, holding the chaos
it wanted to hurl at the space within its new form.
The god took pity on the growing ball of fire
and rock and placed his own protection around the Source, a cushion of finer
things. Soon it became a spinning ball of rock surrounded by the very spirit of
the god, but the Source would not allow itself to be thwarted completely. From
the depths of its self-imposed prison, the Source flowed forth upon the rock,
covering the whole. The God stood back from the form and watched as it spun
awkwardly in the space it had created. Soon, the god perceived that the form
was moving, searching for something within that inky space that the god could
not quantify. He followed it for a time but soon became aware that it was
travelling in a circle around something. He looked to the point of this unseen axis
to the find the agent of the rock’s congress to be a giant, burning ball of gas.
It was interesting to him that the Source of True Life should constrain itself
to constant revolution of one of its own creations. Curious, the god watched
the progression of this new – world.
As he watched and the world turned,
circumnavigating the giant ball of gas, the Source receded in places, showing the
rocky, dirty undergarment. Soon, green things began to grow in some of these
places. Peace radiated from the world as it spun on in its bliss. In time, the
god noticed that smaller rocks were attracted to the Source, pulled in as they
passed by. Some would lose themselves from the strange pull of the Source, but
others, once drawn into the force, could not pull free.
The God drew near to the Source in curiosity at
the green things upon its surface allowed himself to float in that force, level
with the world’s satellites and revolving around the world with them. From his
place on high, he could see all that passed on the world beneath him. Green
things grew and diminished as the lights fell and rose upon the world’s
surface. Entranced, the god floated there in space for an indefinite time.
At some point, the God became aware of a
sadness emanating from the Source where it lay protected under its shell of
dirt, rock, and fire. Just as he had been in the void, the Source was lonely,
aching for something more than itself. It seemed to have thought the
gelatinous, inky black mess it had
created was not what it had been hoping for when it began its descent into
creativity. Able to empathize with the Source beyond understanding, the god
knelt upon the surface of the world and reached into the Source.
In only the way Creators and Fathers seem to be
able to do, he reached into the Source and found the root of its sadness. In
creating the mess around itself, it had dragged a sliver of the void with it,
imprisoning it deep within itself. In some unfathomable way, the void was
within and without, infinitely unknowable. When the god perceived this, he felt
pity for his child and endeavoured to provide a companion for it.
Or, perhaps, he would provide several.
Within the void that was within the Source,
without the constraints of time and form, the god created the First of Men.
When one had been completed and sent forth into the Source to be born into the
world above, he made another. As soon as it had been finished, the god
continued to make more until he was satisfied. Returning to his place above the
world, he watched over them, feeling the utter joy radiating from the Source as
it appreciated and enjoyed them from its unseen place below.
The First of Men interacted with the Source,
drawing life and power from it. Their creator encouraged them to explore, use,
and enjoy the world they lived in. The Source provided for their needs and
cared for them. They lived in harmony and love with one another; the god had
given them many capacities – creativity, ingenuity, intelligence, and curiosity
– but the capacity to love above all, given the breath of life by the beloved
Source of True Life. He watched as they filled the earth with themselves,
animals of many varieties and temperaments, and buildings vast and beautiful.
All of this they did to please themselves and others and this pleased the god
greatly. The Source gave without restraint and loved them and their creations
deeply and unconditionally.
There came a day after many of the First of
Men’s millennia when the god, called by them the Creator, perceived a subtle
change in the chemistry of the world. He understood creativity, curiosity, and Many
of the other human emotions granted to his creation, but this was something he
did not understand at first. It was like a faint smell upon the air that one
cannot place; he sensed it and followed it to its origin. Here, the source was
strong, beating itself against the towers of the word, hurling itself and all
its will at the wall of stone that surmounted it. Atop the wall stood a tower
of Men, an austere building of beauty and grace. It was the home to one of the
earth’s greatest of the First of Men.
The
Creator remembered each one he had made and this one was no exception. He had
been the second born into the world from the Void Within, a creature of great
creativity and beauty – although, to the Creator, all his creatures were such.
This Man had surpassed his fellows, seeking more, creating more, and loving
more than most. Within him there had always been a desire for more. Now, when
he had found everything that could be found within the limits of his human
capacities, he looked to find those beyond his understanding. It was the
decision to reach beyond himself that the Creator had sensed.
As he approached the Man’s tower, the Creator
could feel the Source undulating around him as it threw itself at the towers of
the world and of Man. Within the grand hall of stone and wood sat the Man,
contemplating life, the world, and universe as it all whirled past him. In his
preoccupation, the Man did not perceive the presence of the god. The god,
however, watched as the Man searched for meanings, truths, and power beyond his
reach. Soon, however, the Man, in his ingenuity, discovered something the
Creator had not dreamed any of his creation could find – the Void Within.
The Man discovered it in a theoretical sense,
not fully understanding what or where it was. He knew, however, that this was
the source of the god’s creative power. The First of Men, with the aid of the
Source, could build worlds of their own and create things to occupy themselves
such as the animals they had populated the earth with, but they were never able
to give life or live beyond the constraint of time and form. The Creator did
not know how such an existence would affect one of the First of Men.
The Creator observed the actions of a desperate
Man for the first time. He did not know what the Man desired so greatly or why
it should drive him to such madness – for madness was the state of his mind
after Many years of searching. The Source, incapable of knowing the Man’s
intentions, aided him however it could. The Man learned to imprison the Source
within objects and use the power to a greater extent, he learned how to Manipulate
the wills of his fellow men, he even delved into the depths and touched the Void
Within while his Creator observed from the other side. The god felt through the
barrier the frustration and anger that his creature felt that he could not pass
the barrier into the Void Within when his Creator could. The Second-born of the
First of Men struck the barrier with all his worldly might but nothing could be
done for him to break through. The Creator met the Man’s gaze and perceived an
emotion he had no name for; until then, there had been no need. In time,
though, he would learn to call it as the First of Men did: Hatred.
In jealousy and hatred, the Second-born among
the First of Men launched an indirect assault upon the Creator by making war
upon the earth. Through manipulation, he won some of his fellows to his cause
and promised them places in his new kingdom where he would be the Creator and
their Creator would be no more. They would all be gods and creators their new
world. Others who knew the error of the Second-born’s ways fought to keep him
in check. In their zeal to contain their brother, they mutually wreaked havoc
upon the earth. The Source was misused and taken advantage of, eager to help
any of its fellow universal inhabitants in whatever ways it could, not knowing
the right from the wrong. The Creator watched from the Void Within as the First
of Men destroyed one another in pursuit of a power none could hold. He could
feel the Source and its sorrow at the damage wrought upon its face, an agent in
the destruction of its own innocent existence. Finally unable to bear the pain
of the thoughtless destruction any longer, the Creator ascended from the Void
Within and took hold of the Second-born of the First of Men and cast him into
the Deep where a prison had been made for him adjacent to the Void Within.
Taunted by this proximity to his goal, the Second-born of the First of Men
remains still, driven mad by desire.
The world above, though decimated by the
destruction of the war, would heal. Those who had followed the Second-born were
re-formed and cast into their own prison upon the surface of the earth, a land
greatly untouched by the war and deeply embedded with the Source, from which
there was no escape. For a time, the Creator left the world and retreated to the
Void Without, allowing the Source and those that remained of the First of Men
to repair the world. The Source poured itself through the hurts and cracks in
its shell, aiding the First of Men in repairing what they could of the beautiful
world they had built.
The First of Men were few and scattered among
the many faces of the earth. Soon, they longed for the company of other
creatures like themselves but the Creator did not wish to create another people
so able to harm and misuse the Source. In the Void Without, Formless and
without the constraint of time, the Creator mused on the situation. In time, he
returned to the Source, allowing the restraint upon his nature, and sank into
the Void Within, hiding himself and his deeds from the Second-born so not to
incite him to anger.
Again the Creator formed a being in the Void
Within, altering its nature from that of the First of Men so that it would not
be able to wreak such harm upon the face of the Source again. When the Creator
perceived his creation and deemed it formed to fullness, he sent it also to be
born into the world above, the First-born of the Second of Men. When he was
completed, the Creator, for the joy of creating, made many of the Second of
Men, sending them forth to be enjoyed by the Source and the First of Men.
Before he woke the Second of Men to their life,
however, he placed a gentle barrier on the Source that Men of their nature
could not pass. This barrier refined the chaotic, raw power of the Source
allowing the Second of Men to access the power of the Source but not misuse it
to the extent of their predecessors. The Source was pleased to be connected to
the Second of Men, though the Creator could feel its longing for a closer
connection to them such as the one it had enjoyed with the First of Men. This
restriction filled the Creator with pity for his Creation, but he would not
remove the barrier.
Knowing no different to their born state and
desiring nothing they did not have, the Second of Men lived in harmony with the
Creator, the Source, the First of Men, and each other. For many blessed
millennia, the Creator and his vast Creation enjoyed peace with one another. They
filled the earth, discovering, appreciating, and building upon its beauty.
Their cities were vast and their empires great. Though not gifted with the
power of the First of Men, envy was not in their nature; they regarded the
First of Men and their Creator with reverence, calling them the Children of
Heaven and the Great One – Galeh.
Galeh did not perceive a change in any of the
Second of Men until much time had elapsed. As before, the change was subtle;
unlike before, however, the change was vast, affecting many of the Second of
Men over time. It had begun, as most things do, with a simple suggestion of
difference. Soon, the quiet whispers of the Second-born of the First of Men
reached the surface of the world, though filtered and hindered by the vigilant
Source. One who heard his voice endeavoured to free its owner, seeking the Keys
to the Deep which the Creator had hidden near the Void Within, far from the
reach of the Second of Men. This man’s search, however, led him to discover a
truth the Creator had hoped to hide from all men – the barrier that protected
them from the raw, unadulterated power of the Source.
When the man discovered the barrier, he created
a way to make a channel through the barrier and draw upon the Source directly.
He then stored the raw power of the Source in magical artefacts fashioned from
unbreakable stone and glass-like objects that could also focus the power of the
Source. Although the Second of Men were created to be less powerful than the
First, these objects put them on par with their brethren.
His pursuit of power led the first Sorcerer of
the Second of Men to become greedy, ever in search of more power and more of
the Source. At first he performed his deeds in secret, not knowing how his
brothers would take his new-found knowledge. As time passed, however, the
Sorcerer abandoned caution and shared his never-ending quest openly. Some of
his fellows joined him; others felt that the barrier should be maintained and
did what they could to thwart him. So began the first of the wars of their Age.
The Second of Men fought for many years without
end; thousands of their number were slain and great damage was done to the
world and its Source. Every man did what he saw fit to gain his own desires. The
Source, only partially maintained by the barrier placed upon it in the
beginning of the Age, aided wherever it could, innocent of the crimes committed
with its power. The First of Men were often called upon, and eventually gave
aid to those they believed fought with a right purpose. Brother fought brother,
though most were hardly aware of the reasons they fought. Others knew well the
reasons and fought all the harder. When one war would end, won by ingenuity and
forethought, another would soon start. Though the Second of Men multiplied and
grew, they decimated and killed each other while the Sorcerers of the world
sought the unknowable.
Keenly aware of the result of the last war upon
the earth, and seeing that, without intervention, such wars would never end,
the Creator decided to step in. Though his Creation keened at the restraint, he
extended the barrier on the Source, making it completely cut off from its
people, and he extinguished the burning ball of gas at the centre of the
world’s constant revolution – the sun. When he had done so, he made a vow not
to free the world from its dark prison until he was shown proof that the Second
of Men could once again live selflessly.
Cast into darkness deeper than the Void
Without, a darkness with both form and the constraint of time, and cut off
completely from the Source, the Second of Men were thrown into chaos, clinging
to the remnants of the life they had attempted to destroy. Their plight drove
them to abandon their war and rely on one another. The instigator, the Sorcerer,
was cast from the world and into the Deep to reside forever with the
Second-born of the First of Men, in constant view of the power he sought but forever
out of his reach; those who had followed in his wake, murdering and pillaging
for his purpose, were re-formed as their elder brethren had been to live the
rest of their lives as animals and their names were burned from the memories of
the people.
While the earth languished in the eternal
darkness, the Creator and the Source went to work healing the world’s hurts.
The fissures in the barrier were repaired and the magical objects of
unbreakable stone and glass, which should not be destroyed lest they bring more
harm to the world and the Source, were locked away in the Temples of the
Righteous. In spite of the harm the Second of Men had done to the Source, it
loved them unconditionally and provided luminescent plants to light their
once-fair cities. The chains which held the First of Men who were imprisoned
upon the surface were loosened and they were allowed to roam free. Those of the
Second of Men who dared to venture alone into the Dark World did so at their
own risk. Many of the Second of Men perished in the Dark World.
When the world had been dark for many thousands
of years and the Second of Men ceased their fruitless wanderings about the
earth, when the Source and its face had been healed once more, the Creator
considered the Dark World in wonder. One by one, the cities of the Second of
Men were falling into ruin; the Creator could hear their anguish from his place
on high. They were dying without connection to the Source and without one
another but most were too stubborn to forsake their personal pursuits to aid
one another. Then, there came a time when he once again perceived a change.
This change came to life in a young woman who,
in the days of peace before the sun was darkened, had shone with such grace and
beauty. Like many of her people, she was swayed to act for herself and live
selfishly. She had married and lived with her husband even after the sun was
extinguished. While she lived in the Dark World, the young woman underwent a
change in her heart, learning to serve others before herself. Many years later,
she had born two sons to her husband. These brothers loved one another deeply
and did all things for one another without thought of themselves. They served
their city and their people with abandon and only sought the good of others.
Slowly, their city and its people began to change, reminded of the days of
peace. They learned once more to think of one another and live with mutual
respect for each other.
Word came to these brothers through a dream that
another of their cities, a city not far away, was falling into ruin; their king
had abandoned them for the Darkness and, left leaderless, the people were
beginning to fight amongst themselves. Filled with pity for his fellow Men, the
eldest of the brothers prepared himself for a quest to save them from their own
destruction. Though his brother tried to dissuade him, worried that he would
perish in the darkness alone, the eldest would not relent.
As he left his home, his mother drew him aside
and gave him an eternal light. It was one of the few artefacts that the Second
of Men had concealed from the Creator during his purge of the world’s magical
objects. At first, the young man refused to use the forbidden object, but when
his mother insisted, he agreed. He did not know that it was by the Creator’s
design that this one bulb had been left unchained. The Creator, even at the
darkening of the sun, had hoped that someday it would lead one of his creatures
to do right.
Thus equipped, the young man journeyed through
the eternal night of the Dark World in search of his fellows. He pressed on,
however, without regard to his personal safety or comfort. When he slept, he
dreamt of his family; when he travelled, he worried for the Men he sought,
constantly hoping that he would not arrive too late to be of service.
At long last, he arrived at the distant city.
None of its occupants had been aware of his journey and when the young man
arrived, he found the city in chaos, as he had expected. Moved deeply by their
state, he immediately went to work doing whatever he could to help the people
and looking for nothing in return. He rebuilt homes, planted gardens that were
sustained by the luminescent light from the Source; whatever he could do to
serve others, he did. His fellows began to follow his lead and serve one
another. As his own family had not long before, they remembered the days peace
and worked for the benefit of others. So moved were they that they eventually
elevated him to a high place among them, though he refused kingship.
The Creator was deeply moved by this man’s
selflessness and began to feel that, perhaps, not all was lost. Once more, he
retreated, this time to the Void Within to contemplate the state of his
Creation. Perhaps he had been wrong to cut them off from the Source – he could
feel the Source’s longing for the connection it once had, even though it had
been through a barrier. He had hated removing its connection to the other
creatures; after all, hadn’t he created them for Its pleasure? But the Source, the pure energy that fuelled the
universe it had created, was too powerful to allow the small, destructive
creatures access. To remove the creativity of his creatures would be to
handicap them, to make them unfulfilled. What good would the connection be if
they were simple creatures without feeling or curiosity?
It was then that he began to conceive his first
ideas of the Third of Men. Creative, curious, and ingenious, much like his
impulsive First of Men, but with no direct connection to the Source. They would
have the capacities that he had given the First of Men to love, create, and
explore, but they could not have the capacity for power that he had given them.
The Raw power of the Source was just too dangerous. Yet he would not cut them
off from the Source completely; no. Each of the Third of Men would have the
Source in them. Each would feel the connection to the Source so that the Source
would not be lonely, and when they died, all that they were would return to the
Source and become one with it. Their use of it, however, must be limited.
Smiling to himself in the Void Within, the
Creator put himself to work fashioning the Third of Men. Out of the Three,
these were the most difficult, most fragile, most fascinating work he had
undertaken. When the first was completed, he reached into the Source and took a
tiny piece in his fingers. The sliver shone and danced in his fingers, feeling
the freedom of the Void around it, but he mastered it and placed in the heart
of the First-born then sent him on his way to be born through the Source and
into the World above.
When he had completed ten equal in measure and
compatibility with one another, he left the Void Within and went into the Dark
World where the Third of Men slept upon the Shores of the Source. Looking to
the sun, he clapped his hands and, startled by the noise, the sun awoke, rising
above the rim of the world and showering the world with light once more. He
smiled and the world was renewed in an instant. The Source lapped upon the
shores and woke the sleeping Third of Men where they lay just within its grasp.
When it felt the portion of itself granted to each of them, the Creator felt
its pleasure. So began the Third Age.
There was no change for the Creator to perceive
this time; the change was already there. He had seen to it that, when a man
would become particularly self-serving or power hungry, he could do less harm
than any of his predecessors. He might become a tyrant for a hundred years or
so, but eventually he would die, his body would become one with the earth and
his substance one with the Source, and a benevolent ruler would take his place.
Galeh watched the world carefully from his place on high near the larger of the
satellites – Castos as the Third of Men called it – observing the rise and fall
of their empires and states. He appreciated their smallness and enjoyed when
they, in defiance of their seeming inconsequence, lived vast lives. The Source reveled
in its connection with these new men. They could not harm it and some could
only just use it, but they were never far from one another. All in all, the
Creator was pleased by his creation.
I realize that the name - "the Source"- is eerily similar to the Robert Jordan name for his central power source so I am open to help on this problem. Like I said, titles are hard.
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