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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1171725-Fantasy-World-Creation-Myth
Rated: E · Other · Fantasy · #1171725
The gods of Aryth had to come into creation somehow. This is their story...
There was nothingness, a blackened void of non-existence. The void was a place where no stars, no suns, and no moons existed. It was a desolate wasteland of balanced dichotomy where there was infinite possibility without realized reality, a place bound with three basic principles: order, chaos, and balance. It was darkness. It was everything, everywhere, all encompassing.

It was silence, oppression, and most of all empty; lonely without knowing why. It did not understand that it was not real, devoid of those things that can be considered real, as it whirled around inside a great gaping epicenter set in motion by those things created but with no creator.

In the middle of the nothing a great boom occurred, a sound without sound. In the middle, great beams of light exploded, immediately dissipated as light did not yet exist. There was nothingness and then infinite chaos. There was order which invites creation and then balance which maintains it all. The opposing forces battled for supremacy. The effect was catastrophic; creating a symphony of cataclysmic explosions which were completely unreal.

The sound lasted long enough for creation to be done, undone, redone, and destroyed.

Suddenly there was conscious thought; a sentient omnipotence unknowing of limitations, all-powerful as one, yet splintered by opposites. Somewhere in the turmoil sentient thought was given awareness—to knowledge only bound by eternal time. It saw all, knew all, and it soon found out that it encompassed all.

As sudden as awareness was given, thirteen forms coalesced, perfect, unflawed, and miraculously faultless. Their features held no limitations, bound by nothing, compared to nothing.

“I am God!” said one, a marbled figured, with features using order as a backbone.

“I am God!” said another, whose face fluctuated perfectly, changing as chaos does.

“I am God!” sang out the rest, one by one, all bound with different resonating perfection.

And as one they were, deities bound with imperfect perfection, limitless limitations, and unknowing omniscience.

“I will create,” sang the one who was pure order.

“I must destroy,” sang another, red lightning flaming around its eyes.

“Balance must be maintained,” said a god, whose frame was wreathed by unblemished, absolute balance.

In that moment the gods realized each other, as all-powerful, in comparison to nothing. They realized as one that they were The One.

The thought exploded across the nothingness. It undid order, ordered out cause, and caused imbalance. The force made the heavens bleed, a blood of gods, which knew no equal. Heaven was realized. It was a principle of reality. It was bound only by time, which meant nothing to eternity.

Then there was creation.

Destruction…

It was conceptualized, a dream of god, using no foundation as real other than perception. Only they were real. Only Heaven was real.

The cosmos was populated by planets. The planets were then surrounded by moons. They created Suns which gave heat, though there was no life. Possibility was realized. Angels were created. Creation was created, as was destruction.
The gods made things not yet conceived. They created and destroyed for several unknown eternities.

As they looked around, a great vortex existed, which was surrounded on all sides by their own blood, by those things which they stood for, rivers that embodied all of existence.

Then time stopped…

The gods realized horror. They realized imperfection; a limitation. As one they were God.

It lasted long enough for a massive ethereal anvil to conceive itself. There was awe. They knew in that moment that it was how they had created, had destroyed, had maintained existence.

In unison the gods connected hands, their immense omnipotence building, speeding up those things which were realized as existence.

Time restarted.

In one eternity several galaxies flew by only to be destroyed. Ideas…were realized. The impossible and inconceivable occurred within existence. Four became six. Up became down. The Forge became that which created probability, possibility, and reality, however impossible.

After tens, hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands of eternities the gods stopped their cycle of using The Forge. They realized again they were perfection personified. They released hands.

They began to depart---it was done---they were tired---as one they were God. There was none who could rival their perfection. It was They who was He.

Then they were gone…

As the last god departed the realm of existence, leaving the Forge, for which they had used to create, an eerie essence coalesced from the Forge. It took the shape of an old man, worn, dirty, toothless. It changed into an angel, to a divine being, to a human, to that which is unknown.

It looked around in grim satisfaction, approvingly, as if understanding something for the first time. It had no name. It needed no name. It was that which could stop the one thing that bound Heaven: time.

Then that thing, an unknown, a reality all unto itself multiplied. It gave birth to a thousand possibilities that needed to realize its reality. It decided to let that which was, go on existing for the time being. It needed something to pass the time.
With a smile on its face, the being of that which was and was not began to fade.

He waved his hand and left a divine message on the Forge.

/italics *I am the messenger for that which is the nothingness and that which is everything. I am that which has no beginning or end. Be ready, godlings, your judgment hath come…/italics

© Copyright 2006 Silverhand (areck at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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