FrivYeti/EnliHis1
The Time Before Time
At the beginning of time, the world was formless, shapeless, eternal and ever-changing. The tides of chaos made up the entirety of all things, and everything was fluid and changeable. Within the constantly changing chaos, there was not being, as we understand it. But there was understanding. The Unshaped did not have existance apart from one another, but neither were they a single entity. They simply were, and that was enough. And their endless games and states of being made up the world.
In such a world, one where all things become real with the passage of a non-existant time, it was inevitable that one of the Unshaped would gain definition apart from the rest, and have an awareness of the concept of self. And it happened. Once, or a thousand times, it matters not. And this being - or beings - understood that it could not keep this awareness.
And in the infinite span of the Wyld, it understood that its nature was not dependant on its self, but upon what others saw in it. And so it tried to create a shelter, a place (another new concept) apart from the Wyld, that would keep it in definition. And it happened. Once, or a hundred times, it matters not.
But the shelter was falliable, and the Wyld disliked it. For it gave form and function, and only one - a heresy against the infinity of the Wyld. And so the Unshaped, never united but never apart, made war against this new thing that was both. And it could not stand, for it lacked enough definition. And so, the new being, who had made this shelter, created something new. And she spun the stuff of the Wyld into thought, and action, and imparted to it her understanding of self-awareness, without the malleability of the Wyld. And it was her hope that it could save her. And this happened once, or a dozen times, it matters not.
And, once - only once, for the first time in the timeless Wyld - an event occured that had never occured before. Creation breathed.
The Primordial Age
Now, there was something new, in Creation. Time, and distance, and life were spreading. And the new being, who had chosen to name herself Cytherea, was pleased, for this world guarded her from the Wyld.
But... it was small, and the beings in it were small, and while she was safe, she grew rapidly bored. And so she cast out her awareness, for others of her kind. Other beings who would develop understanding - for she knew that they must exist, and that they must come to her or be re-absorbed into the Wyld.
And, one by one, they came. By the dozens. By the hundreds. And as each one came, they found a name, and a purpose. And they looked upon Cytherea's Creation, and were amazed. And each one began to change things, to add their own touch to this new world.
The 'life' that Cytherea had created was of the most basic sort; plants and fungi, barely animate and without any true understanding, only a subconscious knowledge of their nature. She had reasoned that without imagination, they would be immune to the temptations of Chaos. But others were less convinced, and agreed that while Creation might be safe, that was not enough. As Cytherea had felt, it must be entertaining, or else what point was there to life? Each of them brought their own touches, and the world spread and grew, and the Primordials were happy.
However, they were not all of one mind, and began to feud over what changes to make. In order to keep their Creation from being destroyed,
