If the Cull make it to the moon it will not be my doing. Zakaz says. But I'm glad you see that we are of a similar mind when it comes to change.
As much as Tissari is a goddess of fervent passion, she too needs rest. And so she watches the irtara make their way across the world towards the Shard, a soft smile on her face the whole time.
Apedemak grunts as the Beastfather's claws rake him, and where they slash, his ichor flows to the earth, forming the beginnings of riverbeds and streams. The fight is far from over, though--he shoves back, and twists at Zakaz's joints, bending them this way and that to loose his grip and sap his strength.
- - - - -
As Zakaz and Tissari speak and watch at the Shard, after a time Apedemak joins them, stepping into the space as only gods can. "An ingenious test by the Predator, and a fine sport made by the Vision. To see whether creatures of intellect and passion might survive the wild places, the beasts of this world... Much will come of these events."
After he is pried off Zakaz attacks carefully, circling and striking, then darting back. He probes and pokes, but finds no real opening for now.
His attacks and Aped's stalwart defence, however, leave a huge impact on the earth. Each darting pounce heaves the land into piles like a bunched up rug. His golden red ichor mixes with Aped's as they battle and life springs up on the new hills and mountains. It is promptly destroyed by the struggle only to be created anew with the next drop.
As Zakaz continues to pounce and probe, leaping and tearing, Apedemak falls into a better routine of combat, the ebb and flow of battle returning to him as if from a dream--or the world before. Zakaz fights with instinct, with passion and deadly drive, and he has the vitality of nature itself; but Apedemak is above all a god of battle, and this first trial of combat is where he proves it once more in this new universe.
Where the Beastfather pounces once, Apedemak sidesteps and brings his fists about in a hammerblow, forcing the other god to dodge with all his energy, and smashing a great crater in the earth. Where Zakaz leaps to claw and rake, he lifts him once more, and this time tosses him to the trees, splintering them in a line, and separating them into multiple forests, with new brush and foliage growing from their fragments. Where the Progenitor snaps his jaws, the Crimson Dawn roars in defiance, and drags him to the ocean, their path scraping aside stone and plant to leave only granules of sand.
For years the Battle raged. The fury broke the land and the seas roared.
In one final burst of primal fury Zakaz threw himself against the disciplined defence of Apedemak. The earth beneath groaned and the sky glowed.
Finally, bleeding profusely and panting, Zakaz relented. He stood back. You are mighty in battle, noble in heart, and a leader among the gods.
From the waste and destruction the lions appeared, called by their Lord.
You may have these. You have satisfied me of your worth. You are now their Alpha.
At his word a great Lion steped forward. He was at least one and a half times the size of the next largest lion and his mane glowed with the sunrise fire of Zakaz's blood.
Tissari waves jollily at Apedemark. "Hey there! Come on, sit down, relax! Even beings of immense power and might deserve a break. And it's utterly fascinating watching them. I personally appreciate their ingenuity, but there are a few leaders and heroes in the making among the Chosen. I think you'd appreciate that." She pats the ground beside her. "Oh, come on. Lighten up a little, would you? We can't take ourselves too seriously, or else what happened last time will probably happen again."
Zakaz nods at the arrival of the one who won his lions. Leaders and heros indeed. That one, He looks down to a Chosen who is very lost in a cave network deep underground, now so much. Some are finding this challenge to be more than a match for them.
Apedemak panted and heaved a mighty breath, and smiled at Zakaz. Their fight had been one of brotherhood, not anger, and they had proven themselves to one another. As the world would never be the same for their grappling, so too had the bonds between them changed--of that, he was certain.
"My thanks, Zakaz. Never have I faced so fierce a foe, and I doubt I shall do so again in a long time." He turned to the great beast that stepped forward, and knelt down before it. "That your children might never forget their origins, they shall retain their shape. But that all might know their new lord, I shall put my mark upon them."[/b So saying, he drew strands from his hair, and placed them upon the lion's head. There they took root, and grew into a glorious mane, which flowed as Apedemak's own; so it was with all the lions. Into the great lion's mane, the god sprinkled some of Zakaz's blood, and it glowed as with the fire of a sunrise.
"Blessed are these beasts with my favor, that they might live as lords among their kin--live and die as other beasts must, but though they fight and bleed, they shall be prey to no beast alive. And unto this beast, the greatest of its kind, I grant my divine spark. It shall live as a herald, a living sign of my favor. Though it might be slain by the mighty in combat, its hide may withstand the claws of a mean beast, and its own strength shall make it a great threat."
Apedemak reached out to the beast, and their eyes held in understanding. They roared as one, and empowered by a touch of divinity, the great lion loped off, a true king among beasts, the Crimson Dawn.
- - - - -
Apedemak laughs at Tissari's remarks, and he takes a seat beside her. "I do what I can to take matters as seriously as should be done," he says, not quite breaking his formal tone of speech. "I only mean that it suggests many possibilities. Zakaz's children have strength, speed, thick hides and sharp claws. Can greater intelligence and creativity of thought outmatch such natural gifts?"
He shrugs. "Leadership is a powerful thing, though. I am glad to hear your people see its benefits so quickly."
And there we go. Knew I'd remember the pneumonic trick eventually! Ahem. This is Mirri, log date One-Two, Two-Seven. I am keeping this record in photographic memory for posterity, advice to myself, and perhaps a record of my death.
The deific being known as "Zakaz" has deposited me in an environment similar to the wastes that make up the majority of Kirtavo. As no Mindstorms appear to be on the horizon or beneath my feet, and the sands contain no creative-electrical discharge, I can conclude that I am on the celestial body that Kirtavo orbits.
I am beyond ecstatic that I am able to make this journey! No doubt I will see many wondrous things on this... quest, I suppose. Who knows? I may even glimpse the colors only just theorized, such as "green!" There is a problem, however, and that is my source of sustenance. As no native Mindstorms have been observed on the celestial body I am currently on except in extremely remote locations, and it appears that all of my tools have been stripped from my person, it appears I will have to rely on the set of odd matter-processing organs located in my abdomen to survive. Thank goodness that I managed to get my hands on an axis hound to study the exact purpose of the organs, otherwise I'd probably die of starvation!
Hm. There are no significant landmarks in any direction. I suppose the only recourse is to pick a direction and begin walking. Mirri, out.
This is Mirri, log date One-Two, Two-Seven. My previous statement was incorrect. The only recourse, as a matter of fact, is to pick a direction that does not lead me directly into the path into what I can only assume is some kind of... predator. That's an interesting word. Anyways, I encountered a roving band of six-legged creatures, vaguely resembling the axis hounds that appeared in the sanctum cities a few hundred years ago, yet only if the axis hounds were made out of nightmares and the primal fear of death. Perhaps I am exaggerating a little. I escaped their notice, and after a panic-induced sprint in the opposite direction, I am now calmly walking in a different direction. Mirri, out.
This is Mirri, log date One-Two, Three-Seven. The organisms that I encountered before appear to be pervasive in this environment.
This... may be significantly more difficult than I anticipated. Mirri, out.
Having leaders is a benefit to most beasts. It helps when actions must be coordinated to ensure survival. Zakaz explains.
But as Apedemak and Zakaz turned their attention elsewhere, they left behind a scene of carnage. Mountain ranges, crushed and trampled, their centers carved into new valleys; forests split in half; and everywhere pools of blood, from both gods, red puddles sprouting with new life.
And it was all wrong. Nothing natural should look quite like this. The Librarian pulled an old map out of her pocket, and began to make corrections. Jagged edges on mountainsides smoothed into erosion valleys; crushed forests softened into peat bogs. And pools of blood, as it were, separated, iron seeping into rich red clay, water running into rivulets and lakes.
Slowly, she observed, there was no longer a battlefield; simply lakes and rivers that had combined into one body of water running from the center of the continent to the sea. Mountains and forests parted where water ran through them, natural drainage shifted, as erosion and rich soil turned the water a ruddy orange. And, in the half-darkness—for there was still no sun, in those days—Zakaz's newest children flourished in the new ecosystem: bioluminescent algae, converting iron and sulfur into glowing light; fish that swam in the depths, and insects on the surface, themselves glowing from metabolism of the algae they ate.
Seeing her work done, the Librarian turned to her map, and named the new places that had come to exist.
In his observatory, Atheos had grown impatient. He had sworn never to create life, and that was his proper place; but the world felt wrong, and empty. And, observing for the first time how life sprang from Zakaz's blood, he gained a new idea.
As Zakaz leapt to the moon to speak to its citizens, a small insect landed on his back. Teeming as the beast father's hide was with life of all sorts, Atheos hoped that he would not notice a single small mosquito bite.
And, some time later, on the banks of the Sea of Fire, Atheos held a vial of blood in his hand. New, mindless life, would not be enough. But he had been something less, once, created in the image of life—not the other way around. And perhaps that meant he could give back, serve as a useful template of a world that did not exist. Gritting his teeth, he carefully pulled off the smallest finger on his left hand, and added it to the Vial of Zakaz's blood. And as he walked down the banks of the sea, towards the ocean, he spilled this on the ground behind him, one drop at a time, not looking back until the vial was empty.
The creatures that sprung from the mud were mostly hairless, and mostly confused. Under the influence of the Beastfather they had grown strong, and quick, tall and muscular—but grown the First Philosopher's small, weak frame, "tall and muscular" meant perhaps less than it could have. The new life lacked the wisdom and toughness of the Lirthari, the creativity and sheer genius of the Irtara, or the perfect predatory instincts of the Cull. Their lives would be shorter, and more difficult. But, with any luck, Zakaz's influence would lead them to adapt and reproduce faster than any other intelligent life in the world, and with any luck, they would spread across it, coming to change the landscape in ways that no other life had the will or numbers to do.
And Atheos once again retreated to his observatory. Someday, perhaps soon, he would return and claim these new creatures as his to protect; but first they would need to spend time as creatures of the other gods, struggling against the wild, learning to defend themselves, and learning to create.
This is Mirri, log date One-Two, Nine-Seven. As I have stated in my previous log, this trial of Zakaz's is much, much more difficult than I initially anticipated. Primarily because I have no idea how my body works.
Yes, yes, future me who's either laughing at current me and my naive foolishness or completely silent because you're dead. Either way, apparently, with the lack of ability to theorize, invent, and build in significant amounts, the other... organs take over for providing energy for an irtara's body to function. Hunger and thirst are extraordinarily unpleasant sensations, and although I have slaked the second at a small water receptacle (I was initially looking for a place to rest in this blasted heat, but as it turns out air is a thing that I need too), eliminating the first... eludes me. And I will not even start with the absolutely humiliating process of recycling fluids.
Wait... what's that. Hold on, there's some sort of rudimentary rope lying on the ground. Oddly short, and a strange pattern as well. It's... moving? What...
AH!
Oh. Apparently my aether is poisonous to beings on this planet. I will have to keep that in mind. Perhaps... that's an option. Mirri, out.
This is Mirri, log date One-Two, Nine-Seven. After the sudden death of the creature who I can only assumed was attempting to consume me, I returned the favor. Following an autopsy, of course. There is an odd sensation that plays along the tongue and stimulates the brain upon consumption of organic matter. I did not pay attention to it before with my experiments with the bodies of the axis hounds, but it is novel. Perhaps my first pleasant experience on this useless chunk of rock.
To continue my earlier, abandoned log, I did not encounter more of those terrifying organisms from earlier. Or maybe I just can't see them.
I will choose to forget that supposition.
Where was I? Ah, yes. It appears that I've lost much of my body mass since my initial wakening. I hypothesize that the creative energy stored within my tissue went towards sustaining me while I figured out food and water. Sadly, I no longer have that buffer between myself and what I would assume is death, but I must continue forging on.
Sleep is also annoying. But as I'm about to collapse from exhaustion, I must conclude this log. Mirri, out.
Zakaz rumbles. And you're creatures. They are made of the earth itself. You aren't thinking of making this world even more interesting, are you?
You get the feeling that he kind of hopes you are.
The elven man looks quizzically at the great beast before him "More interesting, how? I mean, sure, I have a lot more in mind to create, and do, but I get the sneaking suspicious you're referring to something specific."
The elven man looks quizzically at the great beast before him "More interesting, how? I mean, sure, I have a lot more in mind to create, and do, but I get the sneaking suspicious you're referring to something specific."
You have created a race that could rival mine. I hope you are not thinking of competing against me.
...ATHEOS DID WHAT!?...
...HAHAHAHA!...!...
Atop the pedestal and throughout The Great Labyrinth echoes of laughter could be heard.
...Excellent Atheos. Excellent.....
"No offense big cat, but my people are quite above your creations. The Cull might be the apex predators of the natural world, but the Lirthari are the natural world. Also, they have opposable thumbs, which is a big plus."
Zakaz rumbles like distant thunder. I am the world. It is my creation and bends to my will without resistance.
This is Mirri, log date Two-Zero, Two-Seven. It appears that, despite all appearances, this celestial body is not all a blasted wasteland inhabited by merciless predators. Some of it is a slightly more pleasant. But still inhabited by a multitude of predators.
I also believe that I have discovered the color green.
After days of wandering through that wasteland eating "scale-ropes" that have attempted to kill me, I happened upon an outcropping of strange rock protrusions, their upper halves covered in some kind of organism which I can only assume is colored green. Note: green is far less impressive than I originally hypothesized.
Curious as to the nature of the organisms on top of the rock formations, I attempted to climb one. And I succeeded! And then the rock gave out from under me, and I fell to the ground. I can only assume that the organism on top of the rock deliberately flaunts itself to potential predators, and have adapted themselves to detach once the predator inevitably falls from one of the rock's frail protrusions to feast upon the corpse. Luckily, due to my superior physical hardiness cultivated from days upon this new world, I survived! I must keep in mind that these "greenies" are dangerous, and should be considered predators. There may be other types as well. I must be vigilant.
At least I gained one thing other than knowledge during my experiment: an elongated piece of that rock, quite possibly useful for fending off swarms of aggressive "greenies," should any exist.
Mirri, out.
"You may have made the world, but it does not belong to you. If you die, will it die to? Of course not. And it bends to all our wills. I had no difficulty raising this continent you find yourself on."
Zakaz growls. Just as it does not belong or depend on your creatures.
HahahaHA! Me from two days ago is hilarious! Ahem. This is Mirri, log date Two-Zero, Four-Seven. Upon further investigation, it appears that the rock outcroppings and organisms that I had observed earlier - and that I'm currently in the midst of - are actually one living creature! Amazing! My autopsy of a recently-felled organism revealed several illuminating facts, such as its growth rate, its age, and its apparent lack of a brain. Which renders my previous attempts to plead for my life when one of the "leaves," as I have dubbed them, fell on me rather ridiculous, to say the least. Perhaps the most enlightening fact is that the tissue of these organisms is extraordinarily sturdy, which means... oh dear. Something must have knocked it over. Something large enough to possess the muscle mass necessary for much a feat, and an appetite of equal proportion to maintain said muscle mass. That is worrying.
I will choose to instead focus on the natural aqueduct that I see before me! The water within has replenished my stores (irtaran bodies can also store corporeal sustenance, thankfully enough, or else I doubt I would have survived the desert), and I should be able for another ten days before I start dying of thirst!
I have also encountered a variety of non-predatory fauna. I managed to hit one with my leverage optimizer, stunning it for long enough for me to land the killing blow! I must acquire a better weapon, however, to ensure consistency in my kills. A faster one, perhaps with a sharpened point. I may have the tools necessary to create it! Mirri, out.
This is Mirri, log date Two-Zero, Five-Seven. Success! After hours of experimentation with various materials, I have discovered that the best object for sharpening sticks is a rock. Durable, hardy, and not liable to break. The rock may even become its own weapon. I must keep that in mind.
These "trees," as I have dubbed them, are useful for stealthy transport. By analyzing the strength of individual "branches" off of the main organism, I can leap from tree to tree, facilitating travel and surprising any prey that I may come across. I must say, I have become an adept at killing small, furry organisms. One out of every ten attempts results in a successful kill! I'm sure I'll get the hang of this "predator" thing in no time.
No sign of other irtara so far. However, there is evidence for sentient life on this celestial body. Fire is a rudimentary marker for intelligence (it was rather difficult to make one on Kirtavo, but through enough effort we eventually lit some volcanic rock on fire), but I believe that whatever inhabits this area is somewhat overzealous in its efforts, though. There is a veritable wave of fire approaching me from the southeast, spreading quickly among the "trees."
On second thought, that may just be a natural process of this place. Mirri, out, before I start screaming and running away.
A shimmering image once more emerged from Shess. The figure did not fully resolve that time and just rested on being a shadowy, hooded figure. The figure twirled one hand dramatically and a mushroom appeared in its hand. The mushroom was grey with green glowing spots from bioluminescence. The figure inspected the mushroom for a few moments and then nods. It then placed the mushroom on the ground of the room but the mushroom remained in the hand and yet a mushroom was on the ground as well. The figure then flickers around the entirety of the Great Labyrinth and placed the mushrooms throughout.
The elven man sighs "I never said they did. What I did say was 'the Lirthari are the natural world'. Which they are, as they are made up of the very elements themselves. They do not rule or command the world."
Araneae watched the stars as the other gods worked their will upon the world. Observing as new life spread across the planet. One particular species: the creations of Atheos caught her attention in particular. Smaller than the other beings and seemingly blessed of fewer means of surviving on the new planet amongst so many other powerful beings. Araneae, nevertheless, sensed promise in them. Travelling down to the planet she watched as the creatures, Ignorant of their fate, hunted and gathered, fought, died, and reproduced. The creatures' lives seemed full of fear and misery. As they went about their short lives they were plagued by discomfort of every sort: hunger, sorrow, disease, and constantly harassed by swarms of biting and crawling insects against which their naked bodies had no defence. And they had no hope for they remained ignorant of their fates and, in their ignorance, struggled like the insects in her children's webs, against their allotted place in the pattern of fate.
And so Araneae, feeling sorry for the poor creatures, acted. Drawing forth the eight-legged creature gifted to her by The Beastfather, she breathed into it a portion of her own essence and released it into the world and it, like the other living things, reproduced and spread its offspring throughout the world. Araneae watched and was pleased as the spiders weaved intricate webs of gossamer that caught the insects, relieving, in part, the suffering of the creatures. But still the creatures struggled. So Araneae moved among the people travelling from group to group. And in each group she found a a girl that had been marked by fate and to each of the girls, she gifted the ability to see the pattern of fate in the webs of her children and in the web of the stars so that the creatures might live in harmony with their fate. And their girl's daughters would, for all time, inherit the gift.
Deep down inside the Great Labyrinth. Inside the great chamber. The cube on the pedestal appeared to be flexing. Flexing as if something were inside trying to break out.
…Hahaha..! Finally!…
…Finally I have gathered enough power to begin!…
The cube flexed once more so much that it seemed it might explode. It raised off the pedestal into the air and then a shadowy gas poured out of each of the six holes. The shadowy gas filled up the entire chamber. Then, all at once it was compressed and took a humanoid shape. As the gas compressed the cube gently lowered into the hand of the shadow and looked unchanged.
”Excellent! I didn’t realize how amazing it would feel to be out of that thing once more,” a voice emanated from the shadow. The shadow then began to stretch slowly, ”!" its arms.
” ! “ its legs as the shadow raised into the air.
”” Shess exclaimed as its shadowy figure began to roil and wisp.
”Now, “ Shess began again while it duplicated into three identical shadowy figures, one of which held the cube, ”it is time to play.” With that the three figures vanished leaving the cube back on the pedestal.
The elven man sighs "I never said they did. What I did say was 'the Lirthari are the natural world'. Which they are, as they are made up of the very elements themselves. They do not rule or command the world."
Zakaz nods slowly. Good.
He turns to leave and says over his shoulder, I will be watching.
From the mountains far above, Atheos saw the other gods ignore his creations. Sure, Araneae had granted them foresight. But Zakaz's children preyed on them no more than any other creatures of the forest, Tissari's Irtara stayed far away, and Apedemak seemed far more preoccupied with his beasts.
And perhaps this was for the best. It was a sign—perhaps too optimistic, but a sign nevertheless—that the other gods might continue to leave humans alone, small and forgotten creatures that they were.
Still: getting to the sort of world he wanted would require the gentlest of nudges.
At the mouth of the Sea of Fire, near the ocean, sat a small island. Wind scoured it, rain soaked it, and finally, lightning set the whole thing ablaze, until the soil of the whole island had been fertilized with layers of ash. Carefully guiding the winds from afar, Atheos had watched the fire carefully; and in its stead was left behind a simple, dirty plant.
Still, with the trees gone, the single plant thrived on the small island, growing into new and taller forms. In the rich soil that mixed Zakaz's blood with wood ash, the island grew lush and green. On the banks of the sea around it, a small group of humans grew curious, and swam to the island, discovering to their surprise that the tubers lying below its greenery were large, filling, and nutritious, even in the half-light. Over a generation, this small group began to care for the island, picking away any plants that did not belong, and eventually picking the smallest and dullest tubers as well, until the plant began to change and adapt, nature tamed into a staple crop.
For a time, they were alone; but the bounty of the island was great, and the local tribe prospered. Soon, they were met by members of other tribes, who had seen the people on a distant island and, curious, made the dangerous swim.
Or, some floated. The people of the First Philospher's finger lived short lives, and adapted quickly, guided by Zakaz's stolen blood flowing through them. When strong valley winds or lightning strikes knocked down trees, they saw how these trees floated on the lake; and the last tribes at the island did so on rafts of logs, lashed together or carved out into canoes. And when the island grew full, these new tribes took tubers on their new boats, and traveled to the nearby banks across the sea, knocking down trees to make new growing space, which they filled with berries and broad leaves and nut bushes as well as the tubers of the island. A few of the most enterprising found new uses for their hunting spears as well, pulling glowing fish and sea creatures from the depths to use as lanterns and food.
But as the tribes of the seabanks began to cultivate the land around their island, the population continued to grow over another generation, as a shift from hunting to farming meant more food, and fewer dangerous hunting trips into the wild jungles around them. And, gathered in one place, they eventually fell into violence and arguments, unable to decide who would lead this convocation of tribes.
From the quarreling crowd, a simple, unadorned tribesman stepped forward. Others around him had claimed they were the wisest, or the quickest, or the cleverest, but one by one this stranger defeated them in battles of words, showing greater wisdom, greater wits, and clearer thought through riddles and challenges. When asked his name, the stranger replied he was No One, and slipped away into the shadows.
Many of the tribesmen had returned to their canoes and rafts, and then traveled back to the island with the hunting spears they had left behind at their tents on the riverbanks. One of these claimed he would rule the island, and kill any who opposed him. A woman stepped forward, clutching a small child. "I am Nothing," she said, "And you have no right to rule me." And so the man with the spear stabbed the woman, and she died, horribly, the child wailing at her side; and the crowd fell sick to their stomachs, and turned on the man with the spear, and the dead woman and child were gone.
On the island, some turned from violence, but many turned away altogether, prepared to divide up the island, or return to the far away sea banks. And a small child, calling himself Nobody, chastised them, called them names hurtful and true, over the fact that they would willingly abandon food and safety in order to be free of their differences. And this argument struck true as well.
And as the people of the island began to talk again, they no longer argued as before, but discussed their differences respectfully. Three names were put forward to lead the island: No One, Nothing, and Nobody, and the oldest and wisest among them began to understand, and soon, talks began on a way to reorganize the island, with each tribe led by nobody, and thus giving each human a voice in turn.
As the many tribes at the mouth of the sea began to blend together into one, nobody came to help them. Nothing moved among them, suggesting new locations for tents that showed more organization, allowing fields to be carefully planned out, simple huts organized along the same basic plan as the idyllic city of the Great Axis. No one showed how to build fences and stockades of trees and sticks, protecting the island against the predators of the sea, or against the tribes that had not joined them.
And slowly, piece by piece, the City of Quarrel's End began to rise above the potato fields of its small island, surrounded by the rafts and canoes of fishermen and lumberjacks.
Now, as Apedemak watched the trials of the Irtara, as Zakaz had set before them, there came a great roaring from elsewhere in the world. The roar was such that all the gods and creatures of the world might hear, but for the Lionheart, it resonated with his very being. So he gave a nod to the Beastfather and the Tempest Mother, and off he went to find the source to find the source of that mighty roar. He bounded across plains, slipped between the trees of forests, and forded mighty rivers, and it was in this rush that first the thinking creatures of the world saw him--the man who moved also like a beast.
It was in a clearing near where the forest met the open land that Apedemak came upon his herald. The great lion stood tall and proud at first sight, its mane ablaze in the twilight and its muscles taut under the thick hide. As its god stepped forward, though, it turned, and in its eyes he saw confusion. When he came to stand beside the Crimson Dawn, Apedemak rested one hand on its shoulder, and he saw what had raised its concern.
The creature before Apedemak was clearly not a child of Zakaz, although he sensed some of that god's virility and sheer life within it. It was small and thin, compared to the great beasts of the Progenitor, but in its eyes he saw a powerful spirit. This creature almost had a touch of divinity about it, akin to the Irtara, but more ordered. Most curiously, it held a tool in its hands, a weapon formed from wood and stone--a spear. It held fear in its eyes, fear of the lion and fear of the god, but also determination and bravery. Much as the lion before it, this creature--this Man--captured something of Apedemak's heart and being.
And so he reached forth his hand, and shattered the spear when the human thrust it forward. He opened forth his palm, and knelt down to stare the Man in the eyes. "I am Apedemak," he said, and his words suffused the human's soul. "I am the Voice and the Lionheart, the Crimson Dawn. You have seen my first child, and my own being, and stood strong against your fear. I would know more of you, and your kind."
In this way, Apedemak came to know of Men. In the time that followed--days or years, that detail is lost to the ages--he learned about this Man, and those that came with him, their tribe. He came quickly to adore these creatures, strange as they were, for they were just as he'd begun to imagine in watching Zakaz's test: beings without the thick hide or sharp claws or powerful speed of the great beasts, but with the simple ingenuity and passion for survival. Apedemak knew they could thrive in this world with guidance and effort, and he sought to assist them in that endeavor.
So even as Atheos began to form an island of farmers, with democratic rule by No One and Nothing, Apedemak turned to that first Man--or perhaps their descendant--and drew forth a drop of ichor from his palm. The human did likewise, and but that single drop of the godsblood suffused them with strength and marked them and their line forever as chosen of the Lionheart.
"You shall rule your people with justice and equity. So long as you and your line live as righteous kings, you shall live well, and guide your people to good fortune and happiness. Life will not be easy, but it will be finer in communion than in solitude. Hunt and gather, or build halls where you please. My spirit shall be with you, even if I am not; look for my other children as signs of my mood. Your rulers and great warriors might face them in combat, and wear their skin as a mark of my favor. I will visit you again."
With that, the god took his leave once more. For a brief time the humans considered what to make of this exchange, and some wished that the great man who was like a beast might rule them directly. But Apedemak knew that this was beyond what the pantheon should do, and he wished for the humans to make their own way. So they decided to honor his decree, and raised up that first scion as their king.
When Apedemak the Lionheart left our ancestors, it was not long before they heeded his words, and took up his challenge. The first Lion King gathered those warriors brave enough to follow, and returned to the place where we first met our god. For many days they traveled, and they hunted other prey along that journey: the wild deer, the boars, and other such creatures. When they came to the plains, they were in awe of the open skies and long grasses, and then the true hunt began.
For days, the hunters stalked the plains, learning to move through the grass without sound. For days they tracked with what little they could, learning the signs of the great cats' passage. And when they finally came upon the lion, they came to know its sight, and the sound of its roar.
But the Lion King was a warrior true, children. They felt fear, to be certain, for they were no fool. But they were stout of heart, and steadfast of purpose. And though the other warriors shook and hesitated, the Lion King lunged forward. The battle was ferocious, and the blood of both Man and beast were shed in its course. But when all was done, it was our king who stood tall. They skinned the beast, and became the first to wear the lion's hide.
It was then, children, that our tribe was truly born. Remember that. Words and decree alone do not give you right to rule, or to take as you please. Strength. Honor. Courage. These are the traits which make us who we are. These are our inheritance as the Tribe of the Lion.
It was just days after the first hunt of men. The Lion King, hero of his people and of their god, was still basking in the glory of the hunt. That night, a shadow fell over their community. One of their number who was working in the farthest edge of their territory, never came back at dusk. A search was mounted and strange tracks of some kind of beast were found. A few days later another disappeared. This time it was closer to the village and the same tasks were found.
They were being hunted. For they did not know that any hunt was a prayer to the Beastfather, and the Cull had found them.
Would the Lion King stand in this first great trial of his rule? What would be do when he was the prey?
At that time, the larger city of Quarrel's End also started to receive reports from outlying communities of mysterious disappearances on the frontier. First individuals and then whole frontier families started to disappear. How would a community of the many handle themselves when they felt a noose slowly encircling their necks?
After the Beastfather had left, Lir gathers together some of the best and brightest of his people, calling them from all over the world. When they arrive, he brings them into a large chamber set with tables, and proceeds to teach them.
First, he imparts on them a stylized, fancy form of writing. He explains while this could be used for every day uses, this 'calligraphy' as he calls it, is best saved for special occasions.
He then shows them how to bend, warp and alter the trees to make them into living houses and buildings. He calls this 'arbormancy' and he tells his children this shall be a hallmark of their race. They will become renowned for their ability to shape the natural world.
Finally, he teaches them the art of swordplay, mastery of the bow, and how to blend the two into hit and run tactics. Because of this, and their innate ability to blend into natural surroundings, the Lirthari become experts at ambush and guerrilla warfare.
"Take what you have learned here, and spread it among our people. Know too that you will have lifetimes to truly master what I have taught you, for I grant you lives that shall not be touched by the ravages of time."
Zakaz sat at the Shard, then also a part of him wandered to the Cull and have them the lessons he was learning from the test of the Chosen. He teaches them how a beings thoughts are important and how that can steer their actions to ones benefit or ill.
The Cull take their lesson well.
Atheos saw Apedemak create a tribe, give them strength, and make the conscious decision not to rule over themselves—and while he did not quite agree with the approach, he spoke no objection to the results, and remained out of sight, traveling among the various humans of the world and watching how they lived.
And soon, this came to mean "defensively"—the people of Quarrel's end began to retreat and disappear from their outlying fields, and soon the city once again huddled on his island, as he waited to see whether the people of the sea would seek allies against the creatures of the forest.
Whether huddled on their island or standing in their village the humans began to hear reports from lone, half mad survivors of the Creatures doing this. Six legged beats seemingly made from nightmares that sat just out of sight in the dark and ran just out of reach when the Moon was high. They waited and watched until someone slipped, or feel asleep, or wandered just a little too far. Those prone would get one scream, one blood chilling cry for help before disappearing completely. Sometimes there was blood to mark their passing. Humans were being tested.
And Zakaz looked upon his creations in their deeds. And he approved. For how could any life truly survive in the world until they were tested by it.
Up atop the Vault Zakaz's flower grew and matured. It bloomed and was pollinated by the rays from the Moon. It drew on the power of the god's pact and produced a single fruit; a soft, yellow-red peach-like thing with the Seed of Immortality itself at its center. Any who ate of the fruit and swallowed the seed would not die unless their stomach was seperated from their head. No matter how grievous the injuries they sustained otherwise, they would always regenerate within 24 hours.
When the Cull began preying upon the Lion Tribe, even their great warriors quailed and shouted in fear. They turned to their King to protect them; but even she (for when the Cull came, the Lion King was a fierce woman, beautiful and strong) knew not how to hold off such a nightmarish force. So they gathered what they could, and raised offerings of smoked meat and crushed berries to their god. And the Crimson Dawn smelled these offerings, and it came to their camp and ate of the meats and lapped the juices; and when it had eaten full, it bellowed a great roar, and Apedemak came to its side and learned of the troubles.
The god knew that he might easily slay the creatures that preyed upon his people; but he knew also that this was not the proper way. Here was another test of will and survival. These creatures, for he saw them with ease, he knew to be children of Zakaz. So Apedemak told his people he would return to the realms of the gods, and dwell on this trial, and return when he could determine a solution.
So he took his leave, and since even young gods might extend their reach to two places at once, he visited two of his brethren in hopes of gaining what knowledge he might. The first he chose was Atheos, for he knew the First Philosopher was wise and considerate, and he had seen his dogs during his time at the Great Axis of late. The second he chose was Liriiestil, for that god had the aspect of a warrior about him, and Apedemak sought to learn what he had devised of the art of battle. Even the First Lord of War could learn from another.
- - - - -
Apedemak arrived at the Great Axis, and upon the open plains he called for Atheos. "Brother! I seek your knowledge to aid the people of the world. I know it is not your way to interfere in their doings, and this could be but nature running its course; but it also is not your way to let destruction come so soon to a young race, and I hope you might grant me counsel and knowledge."
When Atheos arrived, the Lionheart was quick to make clear his business; after all, Atheos was a busy god. "You discovered a manner by which to tame the great beasts of the world, and curb them to your own will. They are not unthinking slaves, but servants. I would learn such an art and grant it to the Men who I have marked, that they might live in communion with the creatures of the world."
- - - - -
It was on the other isle of the world, where the Lirthari dwelt among nature, that Apedemak sought Liriiestil. "Brother! I seek your knowledge to aid the people of the world." He waited for the Lirthari Lord to arrive, and gave a bow of deep respect. "Though I claimed first the mantle of conquest, it is a poor warrior who does not recognize another. I am strong, and you are skillful; I am battle-hardened, and your agility is without peer. I would learn something of your ways, and seek to pass on such knowledge, that my people might defend themselves with honor and skill."
This is Mirri, log date Two-One, Four-Seven. I am at a loss for expletives to describe my current situation. Unfortunately, misfortune doesn't occur often enough on Kirtavo to impart particularly foul curses into our language. So-
-Use trees for fire.-
-I've been forced to come up with entirely new words to convey the horrible situation I'm in. "Fracked" has a nice, vehement ring to it. Yes, "fracked" will do. My situation is fracked.
After fleeing the massive curtain of fire a few weeks ago, I lived a sufficient existence. Sufficient is a good word for it. I moved along, hunted, got better at using my pointy stick, and ate. Perhaps the only noteworthy thing about that period is that I nearly killed what I can only assume is a sentient creature, some kind of bipedal irtaranoid. I almost regret my decision to let it go after it plead for its life in its odd language, since the extra meat would have been useful. But I am a sympathetic creature at heart.
I have managed to prey upon larger and larger creatures. I even downed one of those odd organisms with the calcified growths coming out of its head! Of course, I was tending to my wounds for two days afterwards, but that does not matter! I am a hunter!
Or at least I thought as much until those nightmares from the wastes took notice of me. I am currently quaking in fear in the branches of a "tree" as they patrol the ground. Luckily, they haven't noticed me yet, but I doubt that will last for long.
There is a pause for a moment. Mirri breathes in, then out.
I cannot hide here forever. They will eventually find me, and unless I'm prepared, they will kill me. That is fact. I am left no choice but to go on the offensive.
This may be my last log. Mirri, out.
Tissari watches Mirri's trial closely, her eyes glimmering. With a twist of her wrist, she lets some of her recovered power flow out of her, spiraling all through the known universe.
No more was magic limited to divination, or stormwielding. Now, there is unlimited potential, for invention, for creativity. Mortals must forge their own path, but they will forge it well.
Zakaz is also watching Mirri closely. She was learning. Evolving. He realizes that he had been responsible for much of this kind of change. In the creation of the world, in the forming of the Cull. He nods and his essence settles into its new place: Lord of Natural Selection.
Atheos shook his head at Apedemak's lack of understanding. "Life exists, and I will not tamper with it further. I have already taught the people of the lake; perhaps, someday, I will teach them more, if they remain willing to learn. If Quarrel's End falls to the Cull, and the Sea of Fire around it, its people now know how to take to the sea and flee, and will find a new home; whether today's tribes flourish or crumble is up to their decisions. If Zakaz himself decides to stalk and murder the people of the world, then I will be the wall that opposes him."
And then he thought about the Lionheart's actual question, and responded more softly. "Still. It is not my intention to keep knowledge hidden, even from beings of our power and potential."
And so Atheos, desiring a return to his rest, pointed Apedemak to the Great Library, where no other gods had yet set foot.
The Librarian, who was Atheos's assistant, and who served no one, handed Apedemak a book, How No One Stole Life from the Beastfather. And when the Lionheart had trouble with its contents, she began to explain, in wordless gestures. The Axis Hounds that roamed the Great Axis's empty streets could respond to a point, or a glance, moving in unity; these and other signs of domesticity, genetic and behavioral markers of obedience, were gradually made clear to Apedemak.
Zakaz had created life by killing the weak, forcing progress through struggle; the Librarian, and her written records, showed Apedemak how life could instead be created by breeding the strong, a civilized and ordered process bending natural selection to grow creatures less and less wild.
When gods spill their blood and being onto a land, especially one formed of their own wills, there are bound to be unforeseen side-effects. The battle between Apedemak and Zakaz spilled much of their essence, essence which pooled formless into the Sea called Fire by the First Librarian. In a godly act of theft and creation against his own nature, Atheos spilled yet more blood, including his own, upon its shores in order to form man.
The Blood of Gods spilled over ambition, deceit, and self-harm settled to the bottom of the Sea of Fire and became Fire. Giving truth to the words naming the Sea, the Fire ignited the waters, turning them to plasma not unlike that of the deepest volcanos. The plasma at once knew itself. Rejecting the world and peoples as lesser creations – subject to the will of the gods, but not born of the blood of their passions- the Plasma leapt into the Night Sky, burning bigger, brighter, and hotter as it flew. Behind it, the Sea of Fire, a shadow of its former glory, roiled and splashed, a wake of ash, steam, and salted water.
The new godling moved to a position on the opposite side of the moon from the world, stoking its light and heat in the darkness, and bringing this light burning to the other side of the moon. This strange new light threw the moon’s side facing the world into shadow, so much stronger was the light emanating from it, appearing to those on the world’s surface as a halo around the seemingly blackened moon.
With a flash of light, Tissari appears beside Therien. She's still wearing her normal smile, yet there is a dangerous glint to it. "Hello, there" she begins, cheerily waving to the roiling mass of primordial plasma. "Nice thing, that." Tissari points to the newly-created sun. "One of us should've thought of that earlier, but I guess we were swept up in the grandeur of this whole deity thing. Well, Atheos probably thought of it, since he's sensible like that - really the only levelheaded one among us, let me tell you! - but still, it's nice!"
She shakes her head, sparks flying. "What's not so nice is what you did to the Sea of Fire. You know, I'm fine with destruction, generally. It paves the way for new creation, as long as it has a purpose. A cycle, you know." Tissari's voice takes on an iron edge. "But destruction for destruction's sake? That's one of the only things I can't abide. So, if you would please, restore the Sea of Fire. I'm giving you this chance, whoever you are. I don't want to be enemies."
The Eternal Eclipse finds its voice. It is a hoarse thing, newly formed and unused to being utilized. It crackles and snaps like the flame itself. "You are one of those coming before. I will not challenge your power yet, but know that the cycle has occurred, for I was born in the destruction of the Sea, and that if you force me to desecrate my cradle in such a fashion, we will eternally be enemies."
The plasma roils and flickers, growing brighter and hotter as the divine presence of Tissari feeds its hunger.
Zakaz is surprised yet pressed are the appearance of the light. "Sun" people were calling it. It would put another dimension into the Culling.
It also put another dimension into the world for Zakaz himself. His chosen form was sufficient for combat with most of the present gods, but not for this one. He ponders what fighting fire would be like. In the end he decides he must adapt like his creatures do.
His form becomes... Fuzzy. He is still very much the Beastfather with his claws of starlight and pelt of the void itself, but he was no longer only that. He became all he claimed to be: adaptive, mutable, Evolution itself.