Scribbles:Genesis
The Makers were Three, but they were of one heart. Each looked upon the other and knew love. They sang, and they danced, and they laid beside one another. And they knew total peace, for there was nothing in the cosmos but the three Makers, and their shared heart.
They looked upon one another, and each knew that they wanted to delight one another. And so, they each stepped away into their minds, and brought forth the first new things into creation. They presented them as gifts to one another, as testaments of their shared love.
For the Second, the First created Day, which was like the warmth of their embrace and breath. For Third, the First created Night, which felt like the coolness of the Third's soft skin, in which rest and succor were found.
For the First, the Second created the Air, which moved like the breeze of the First's mind across the skin of their beloved. For the Third, the Second created the Ground, solid and firm like the Third standing beside them.
And the Third, they created Movement in all its variety and possibilities for the Second, to match the many ways that the Second was a delight. For the First, they created Stillness, for the clarity that was the First's presence.
And the Three were content, for they had given forms to their shared heart, and had made it myriad. They doted upon their gifts. They combined their gifts individually, and eventually they began to mix their gifts with those of the others. They planned and designed. They explored and discovered. And thus did they create the never-ending diversity of the cosmos, both things subtle and things manifest.
However, they did not realize that in creating the Numberless that filled the void, that they had created that which was not as well. In their innocence, they had created that which is not love, that which is not joy, that which is not creation.
They came together and said to one another: "We have made mistakes, and it is our duty to fix them." And so they reached into their gifts and pulled forth the ruin therein. From Night, Terror was pulled. From Day, the Burning Pain. From the Air was drawn Vanity, and from the Ground, Apathy. From Movement was Confusion pulled, and from Stillness, Despair. And the Three cast these into the void, to not be seen again. And then they settled into each other's arms in contentment.
But they still did not understand the work of their hands, for once a void is created, it cannot be uncreated. And that which was not called forth to the exiled, collected them together and gave them names, and their union was called Scourge. And in turn, they named the voice Vile.
Thus, armed with the power of names and the unrelenting nature of the void, did Scourge and Vile seep into the cracks of the cosmos, and begin to change the Numberless and infect it with dark reflections.
The Three discovered the sickness in their midst and were wroth. They gathered their anger into their hands and thus formed Rage, that which rends asunder. And they struck at Scourge and Vile. Their fury forced open the cracks in the cosmos. Scourge howled and cursed. Vile taunted and mocked. And the Three struck again, plunging Rage into the very seams of the universe.
And the cosmos was rent asunder. It shattered and it tore. The Numberless tumbled into the now numberless shreds of the universe, scattered across the endless devastation.
And the Three knew shame, for they had created Catastrophe.
They said unto one another that just as they loved each other, so did they love the Numberless they created. But they now knew that the Numberless were fragile, and that their hands were powerful and could crush too easily. And they said, "We will step back from the Numberless, for if we do not, we will destroy them."
But the Three loved the Numberless. They gave their gifts unto them, so that they may have the tools so that they could share in the delights that the Three had. They set Day and Night together, chasing one another, so that there would be Time, for growth and experience. They set the Ground down to stand upon and the Air on top of it for them to breathe, creating the Horizon to be yearned for, and the Sky to looked up into. They imbued the Numberless with Movement, giving them endless Actions and Potentials. They imbued the Numberless with Stillness, so that there would be Wisdom.
They said unto the fractured lands and the Numberless that stood upon them. "We go now to contend with Scourge and Vile, that they will not surge into the cosmos and overwhelm you. And we give you our gifts, so that you may be shaped by your own hands." And to each, they gave a kiss and said, "May you become greater than we."
And with that, the Three left the Numberless.
In the Time afterward, the Numberless endured and built. They created and they destroyed. And they resisted and contended. They contended with the hands of the Vile and the Scourge that reached through the shielding arms of the Three. They contended with each other. And they contended with the things wrought by their own hands.
And thus we contend to this day. We Numberless scattered across the Fractured Lands, these worlds of unending variety that float in the void. We fight, and we succeed. We fight, and we fail. And we continue with uncertainty, in the face of the Scourge and the Vile, and in the face of our own frailties.
But know this. What came first was love. What came first was a shared heart. All else, even the Scourge and the Vile, are but pale shadows, simply chaff. We are bound together by our shared heart, across the Fractures and across the Void. The shared heart is the strongest force in the cosmos. And with it, we shall become greater than those who created us.