The more I look, the more I try to make sense of all of this, the harder it becomes to reconcile it with what I know about… this; our world. In the brief time since my rebirth, I have seen so much, done so many things, and yet every answer brings a new mystery. All I can do is to lay it down, and hope someone will make more sense of it than me.
I gazed at a dead city lain on a land under a dying star. I walk through streets filled with the decaying edifices of once unimaginable splendour. In the heart of that place, the darkness spoke to me. I felt its mind reach out to me. From eons of slumber it spoke.
Long ago, there was nothing but the Dance, darkness and light, life and death; an endless cycle – perfect, unbroken. Its perfection was a law unto itself, but in time all things must end and the perfection of the cycle gave way to the power of the Voice. From amongst the infinite came the few. They were unique, each alone, and in their despair they sought to name the madness that surrounded them. They separated the light and the darkness, and broke the Circle. Given form, the First Born gazed back upon them. Maddened by the heresy of time and shape, the Speakers gazed in fear.
For all its power, the First Born was of the Speakers’ own making, and their fear broke its form, and forged from it the Thousand. At first, these new beings rained destruction, revelling in their natures, scattering the Speakers across the newborn cosmos.
The Thousand’s might was wasted. Their nature made each desire to be a part of the cycle, to return to perfection, but now they were Unique, broken, and each made their own perfection. Warped by fear and power, they sought to control the Speakers and to use the power of Naming to rebuild the order they so craved. Instead they brought forth suffering, and the end of Innocence.
The Speakers bowed no longer. Alone, they could not overcome the fears that they had made manifest, but together they were Legion and the heavens burned with the fury of the war, for in their Fear, and in their Suffering they had brought forth a new and terrible Name. The Legion had brought forth Death, and bound forever every living thing to its appointed day.
No words can describe the horror of that ancient war, no tongue written can convey the awe and fear felt by beings that knew neither permanent form nor the ravages of Time, as they looked upon Death as it stalked them amidst the ruins of Heaven. For a time, it seemed that all things might end and that in a twisted sense the Great Cycle might have come full cycle.
Facing their end, the Thousand did not relent, for they saw an opportunity in this new Name. They sought to use its power to restore themselves to their lost glory, and even the Legion faltered before their renewed conviction. In that twilight came those who would ultimately become Gods. Even in the face of death they fought and bled, and the Speakers one by one gave their Voices to these new powers, and the universe trembled at what was unleashed.
These new Gods, each born from a perfect and immutable concept, began to reforge the universe to their whims. Where the War had brought Chaos, they brought Order. Soon, the Thousand were beaten and the Gods chose to make them anew, and forced them to serve; to drive the Great Cycle of the Gods’ making.
And so, once again, the Great Cycle turned, the Gods’ image of perfection prevailing over the cosmos, but for all their power, they forgot the lessons which had forged them, for each work they made possessed a terrible flaw… Soon enough the Gods realised that their creations were imperfect; that for all the Order they sought to build, they could not break the Speakers’ Free Will, for it was their very defiance that had made them.
Heedless of consequence and danger, the Gods sought to change their own Names. For the first time, there was dissent. Some feared the change, some believed it was wrong, but in the end the greater number decided to change what they were, and reforge the very foundations of Creation. Those Gods which disagreed were cast into the Darkness of this new cosmos, bound and chained in impotence, left to await the End of all things.
Untold eons passed, and the Gods were secure. Their work had changed the foundations of the cosmos into a structure like a prison, their labours channelled to deny Free Will, and all the while in their hubris, they could not see their doom approach. Alone in the darkness, the Chained Gods awaited a chance – and it came.
For all their power, the Gods could not deny the ancient laws. In the end, their prison began to crumble. Those they had banished worked tirelessly to undo the harm the Gods had wrought . The breaking of their great work brought reality itself close to the waiting maw of Death. Soon all hope faded. Piece by piece the works of the Gods fell into Death’s now hungry maw, and at the last hour a mortal, the faded remnants of a Speaker, defied the Gods. He wielded Death like a blade, the suffering of a dead universe was upon his shoulders, and one by one he cut the Gods down.
The darkness enveloped all Creation, and he who had slew the Gods, he who was the last and now the first was alone. He was eternal. His very existence defied Death, and through it the blood of the Gods and the ashes of Heaven brought forth new life. The dust settled into the skies, each mote burning with the pain of life, and from the blood, a million new worlds were born in the heavens.
For eons the Eternal watched. Life returned, even thrived, but always the darkness came. Pain and loss followed the growth of new civilisations. Each soulless, without hope or Gods, they were simply content to exist in a universe without meaning, and so the Eternal chose to act., to break the Cycle of Ages.
The Eternal travelled into the depths of the Void, to the End of all things where only he could tread, and there, one by one, he named the Thousand and brought them forth from the darkness. Unleashed, the Thousand brought suffering to the Universe. They forced life to fight, to cherish its Freedom, and soon the Thousand understood the price of their freedom, for they found themselves bound to the Eternal’s vision; to his first Gift – Purpose.
Not yet satisfied, the Eternal sought to create a second Gift. He went to the First Light; the burning heart from where all things begin, the sea of life and possibility, and there with the same blade he had used to slay the Gods, he shattered his own soul, allowing seven pieces of it to join with the Life Sea. Each was a part of himself, each a sacrifice, each a guiding beacon. Soon, the Eternal walked the many worlds, and sought out seven who would be his children. He watched their lives and made sure that each was great, and that each was Free – and then, at the moment of their glory, he brought forth his blade once again, and murdered each in turn.
The Seven were reborn, each an Eternal in their own right, for each had defied Death and claimed a piece of the Life Sea. With their new found power they sought their Father, and soon they came to understand his second Gift – Eternity.
The Seven created a new Name; Mel-lith, which in their tongues meant “He who had come before, and will be again”. Under his tutelage, each of the Seven became mighty. They learned to reshape worlds and to make more of their own kind, and soon the galaxy knew of the Eternal’s third Gift – Order.
His work done, the Mel-lith took a piece of each of his Children’s souls, and forged a crown. He placed it upon his brow, and told his Children that he would wear it forever, and that no ruler could ever be beyond him, and so all would be Free, for he would give no Command.
His Gifts given, and his work done, Mel-lith slept.