Mockery/The History Of Creation

Warning! what follows is at least 80% entirely uncanonical!

Of That Before Creation

Before the making of Creation, there were the Primordials in the Wyld. Nothing precedes this--time exists only within Creation and those things branching from it, and so there is no history definable as such within the Wyld before the meeting of selves between Gaia and Cytherea. In this non-time and non-place, there were many Primordials, and those Primordials rose and fell, accumulating and losing souls until they vanished into the Wyld as smoke on the wind.

Of these Primordials there is no record save in their fellows, and they shall be spoken of no more.

Of the Making of Creation

Of the causes and reasons of the union of Gaia and Cytherea there is little known. To the minds of men, the will and actions of the Primordials seems erratic and strange, but it is enough to know that it happened. There was intimacy, but none of the raw physical contact that gross material bodies desire. There was ecstasy, but not the release known to men and gods.

The Song of the Beginning of the World was glorious. Never again will it be sung, and this all the Gods know. Into the shapless, spaceless, timeless chaos of the Wyld, Cytherea brought forth space, and time, and unto this new Where and unsullied When, Gaia laid down the foundation of Creation in Earth, and upon that she brought forth her passions and joys with Water, Air, Fire, and Wood.

Of the Sacrfice of Gaia and Cytherea

Having formed Creation, it was then that Gaia laid down her five souls within the world, as tent-pegs to still the ground and posts to support the canopy of the sky. Thus were all five of her souls claimed, and bound within that which she and her sister had created, and it was this that kept her there, for she felt bound to the world, responsible for it. She wandered it herself, bringing life as she went, and placed the souls of her souls so as to imbue the world more fully with her Essence.

Cytherea, too, placed something of herself in the world, charging one of her souls to ever play the harp named Time, arming Creation with seconds and hours alien to the Wyld, so as to better defend itself. This soul she cleft from herself, wishing not to be so bound to this world as her sister. This lost soul she placed in a cave near the peak of the Omphalos, where it would ever be safe, and thus was Creation defined.

Of the Sacrifices of Other Primordials

The other Primordials, too, struck something of themselves away so as to better keep Creation. Several cast away a soul, but none was so drastic as Empyrium, who cast from himself his heart, Sol, so as to grant light, clarity, and sharpness to Creation. What his aim was in so doing is unknown--some say he wished to win Gaia's affections, but such ideas are often for those who do not understand the hearts and souls and wills of a Primordial.

What is known is that when that which had been Empyrium, now Cibola, beheld his new heart, he named it Huitzilopochtli, and kept it close to himself.

In doing thus, the first Celestines were defined, and they were to rule over the Gods.

Content that Creation and her souls embedded therein were safe, Gaia ascended into Yu-shan, though she would never couple again with Cytherea, and began to play the Games of Divinity. Alone among the Primordials, Autochthon remained behind, for though he had shaped the Games of Divinity and much of Yu-shan was of his own design, his brothers and sisters shunned his company.

Alone, he began to shape.

Of Autochthon and the crafting of the Mountain Folk, much is already written, and so I shall write no more here.

Of the Song of Cytherea's Lost Soul

Cytherea's once-soul sat in his cave, and he played but one song, and that was the song of Time. Each finger struck each note with the rush of sand through an hourglass, and the distinct and deliberate clarity of clocks that would not be constructed for thousands of years to come.

He played it to the north, and to the west, and then he played it to the mountain in which he sat, and then to the east, and to the south. And then he would turn, and begin again. Thrice in each direction, the melody of time would build from near-silence to a deafening roar, and then die down to quiet, and thus were the seasons and the months within them defined.

Of How Cytherea's Lost Soul Came to Behold Creation

In these days, the Sun was that which shone in the sky, and he and he alone stood and ever danced in light. The maidens arranged the fall and play of events, but they did this behind the canopy of the sky which Sol illuminated.

There came a point, where that being who had once been Cytherea's soul had played his song to the south, when his cave was filled with light as the Sun descended, and Sol said "Enough! I am weary, let me rest here." The soul consented, but he saw beyond Sol, and darkness was on the surface of Creation save for the trace of silver in the sky. He looked back to the sun, and said "May I dance in the sky in your stead? I may not shine as brilliantly, but certainly you would not let the world go dark."

And Sol, weary, waved his hand dismissively. "Then go." He said, and so Luna who had been Cytherea's Soul went out into the World, playing as he went.

He played over the north for a short time, and he saw the fight for dominance between a pair of wolves.

He played over the west, and he saw shark's eggs hatching in the ebb and flow of the tides.

He played for a very brief time around the Blessed Isle, and he saw foxes mating.

He played in the west, and saw the fall of acorns from tall trees.

He played in the south, and saw a dried and withered plant waiting for rain to be green again.

He saw all these things, all the results of passing time, of hours and days and months and years, and his heart was full of wonder. His song was mighty, and the seconds fell past like mayflies until the Sun emerged to brighten the sky again. "Enough." He said. "I am rested, and may shine again. Return to your cave, player of Time."

Of How Luna Came to Behold Gaia

And Luna's despair was terrible as he returned to the cave, and even as he played the seconds became dreary, all the more mourning for that which he had seen but for a few scant days.

And none of the Primordials heard it, save Autochthon, who did not heed it. None of the souls of the Primordials above heard it, for they all took their pleasures in Yu-shan. The Celestines heard it, but did not complain, for the Maidens were otherwise occupied, and the sun, fresh and rested, danced as lightly as ever.

Gaia's souls, the Five Elemental Dragons, listened alone, and they despaired. The five souls surrounding each wept, and thus Gaia's Essence became sadness, and she could not wholly enjoy the games.

She set foot on the Omphalos, intending to destroy the source of her displeasure. She heard the song, loud and mournful, from within the cave, and into there she stalked.

And there Luna sat, still playing, and it was at this closeness that Gaia heard what lay beneath the sadness, a profound love for the life he saw on that world, that the Time he played called into being and dismissed. It was at this praise that she hesitated, and in that pause that Luna's downcast gaze looked up at the newcomer.

In that moment, when he saw within her not just the cyclical dance of life but the rise and fall of fire and the ebb and flow of tides and the transient gust of wind and the staunch, almost impudent immovable stance of stone, he played perfectly. Every second that preceded it, and every second after, has been but an echo of that one perfectly measured moment, and perhaps it was then that Gaia saw something of what she had felt for Cytherea in this lesser being.

He could not devote the attention he wished upon Gaia, for his attention was forced to remain upon the harp that he played. Still, the touch on Luna's shoulder was bliss, and the kiss on his forehead was ecstasy. Her promise to return was joy that no word in any tongue has ever been able to contain.

Of Autochthon and the Making of Humanity

Now it was that Autochthon discovered that the Mountain Folk he had crafted had made more of their own, and he displayed these in pride to his siblings at the gates of Yu-shan. They scorned him, and made crude imitations--humans--and set them upon the surface of creation to reproduce in such ways as living things do.

Autochthon was wrathful, but Gaia--though she had no particular love for the humans--claimed them as her creatures as she had the Dragon Kings whom Cibola had placed upon her lands, and so the Great Maker was forced to still his anger.

Instead, he suggested that they be placed as subordinate to the peoples already in existence--his Mountain Folk, and Cibola's Dragon Kings. He had no love for the latter, but they were an occasionally savage people, and hardy. Certainly, time and hardship would wear the humans down, and show them useless, if there were anything left to show.

And instead, they thrived.

Of Humans

None would call humans a superior race. There were--and are--faster, stronger, smarter, more clever, more alluring peoples. Their lives were short, only rarely reaching a century, and alone among the intelligent peoples they had no innate talent for channeling Essence.

Somehow, crafted on a cruel whim as they were with no thought as to what might become of them, the humans were still intelligent. They could be taught to manipulate Essence to a degree. And they could breed--not with the Dragon Kings, but with much else: gods, the souls of Primordials--even with the Mountain Folk that claimed Autochthon. These hybrid peoples were stronger and smarter than those who had come before, and had an easier grasp of Essence.

Humans were potentially, in short, useful tools and materials, and in that realization Autochthon's anger abated, for there is little the Great Maker loves more.

---

Of the rise of the gods and what has come after, much is known, and I shall not speak of it here.

Of the nature of Gaia and Her Souls there is much secret that must be told, but that must be detailed elsewhere.

Comments

Wow, lots of really cool ideas in there; I especially like the origin of Luna. --JohnBiles

Mr. Biles, I've been following you since Chapter 10 or so of Lemon Sherbert. That compliment means a lot to me. -- Mockery

ditto. Tis very cool!
-- Darloth

Indeed, the Lord Mockery is the embodiment of awesomeness. All Hail his Creative Genius. --Kitrazzle