~ Creation Myth ~
“First, there was light, and it shined vast and unyielding. For millennia it seemed there was only light, spreading across the cosmos and illuminating everything in its holy radiance, creating as it expanded its reach. Onward it blazed, unaware that something wretched lurked in the darkness. The more the light explored, the less that which hid could hide until finally it reared its ugly head and devoured the light completely.”
- The Awakening, Sacred Text of the Kindred Gods (written by the Prophet Landor).
While no one knows for certain, it is generally accepted that before the Sun Mother opened her eyes and shared her glowing brilliance with the universe, the Night Terror slept in the primordial void. None know where it came from or why it exists at all, but all agree that it must not awaken.
~ Fated Encounter ~
“For centuries the Night Terror watched the light bitterly, hiding in the pockets of space and time the Sun Mother could not reach. He hated her for rousing him from his eternal slumber and stalked her with envy and malice, hiding in her shadow. As time went on, he could not stand her vibrance any longer and devoured her whole. Thousands of jagged teeth raked her flesh and sent her spiraling into his abyssal stomach. Her light waned and she resigned herself to die.
“At long last I finally meet another living soul, and it seeks only my demise? If my light is wasted on this world, then let me burn out completely…”
Yet even from the depths, her light would not dim, revealing a piece of the Night Terror that did not despise her. Crumpled in the corner, a ball of scabbed, dying muscle and flesh twitched. The more it was bathed in the Sun Mother’s light, the more it seemed to heal and life breathed anew through its body. Its form contorted and matched that of her light, eager to impress her.
“What… are you?” the Light asked.
“I am that which has always been fond of you. Even as the Night Terror raged and loathed, I sang your praises. Where he saw disturbance, I saw only beauty. In its hate, he tore me from his mind and body and swallowed me whole. Yet, it seems your all-loving light has saved me.”
The man stared at the Light with reverence, bowing before her brilliance.
“It is good to know a friend,” the Light whispered, “I have been yearning for one… Alas, it seems our companionship is too late. We will die in the Terror’s wretched belly.”
“Nonsense!” the man shouted, “I have seen you illuminate the very world! There is no prison that which can contain your splendor! You must simply shine, and the Terror’s stomach will burst open with envy!”
The Light gave him a wry smile and shined all the brighter. Her light grew, burrowing into the bleeding walls of the Terror’s belly. As they sizzled, the man tore at the walls with nail and teeth. Then all at once, a pocket of freedom burst open. The Light took the man’s hand and leaped back into the void, coated in blood and viscera.”
-The Fated Encounter, Sacred Text of the Kindred Gods (written by the Prophet Landor).
~ Folly of Man ~
“Free at last from the bowels of despair, the Light and the man raced to safety. Still the Light’s luminance gave them away, and the Night Terror chased her everywhere. Their war seemed eternal. When the Light grew weary, the man fought in her stead, reflecting her brilliance to keep the Terror at bay. When the man could stand no longer, the Light blazed anew and allowed him respite. And so on it went, the pair leaning on one another in spirit, blood, and love. Over the course of their war, the trio’s bones, blood, and carnage fell from the sky and formed Evaira below. Powered by his hate, the Night Terror brought the vile viscera to awful life and used it to hunt the lovers.
Pools of blood formed into orbs, split asunder with a thousand festering mouths and sprouted wings of bone. When the Light slept, they accosted the man, reminding him of his weakness, his worthlessness, and worse, from whence he came. He struggled to reflect the Light’s brilliance with each passing day until finally he could not shine at all.
“Oh wretched flesh of my flesh, miserable tumor of my mind,” whispered the Night Terror, “Why do you deny the truth of our blistered heart? We have no love for the Light. Only hate. See how it burns you? See how it leaves you scared and wanting? You toil all hours for her and gain nothing… nothing but an idol too bright to even behold… Return… return to me, and let us be rid of her arrogance once and for all….”
The man denied these maddening whispers for centuries, but in time, their poisoned words found soil in the doubt of his mind. On one such day, when he lacked the strength to reflect the Light’s splendor, he listened to the Terror.
As the Light slept, the man grew darker than night, becoming shadow and death incarnate. His love soured, and he approached with the vitriol of the Terror. His masculine facade roiled and splintered in madness and monster. His clawed tendrils reached for her throat, and the chorus of hate behind him swelled to complete the dark deed. He could have ended her easily; her neck was exposed and bare, fragile and unexpecting. But not a moment before he touched her flesh, his love bloomed from the center of his mind. He recoiled, tearing himself apart to save her from his own hands.
Yet without him to defend her, the Night Terror and his army of gore fell upon her in a frenzy. Her body was ravaged, slashed and split apart. She woke in a fire of torment; her light dimmed and waned. The Night Terror clutched her throat and pressed its bleeding snout to her brow.
“Wither and die, arrogant one. Let the world never recall the Light that roused me.”
It squeezed until her eyes bled and spine shattered. Then with a thunderous roar, it threw her onto the rotting land of Evaira, which eagerly entangled her in its dead embrace. The Night Terror cackled with victory and spread itself across sky and space once more, filling it with inky darkness. Its battle was long, but with the light finally extinguished, it returned to sleep at long last.
-The Folly of Man, Sacred Text of the Kindred Gods (written by the Prophet Landor).
~ Radiant Union ~
“The man wrestled with shame, regret and his poisoned body, but at long last tore the Terror’s influence free of him. Though darkness had blanketed the land, and the Light no longer shined, her war with the Terror has left it embedded with glittering scars. No matter how the Terror licked them, they would not stop burning, and thus he was forced to sleep in the dim haze. With it, the man raced to the living corpse of Evaira, and trudged through the jungle of sinew and bloody ribs. Entombed and spiked through by a maw of their own carnage, the man found the dying form of the Light. Her light was but a whisper, a flickering thing in the encroaching darkness.
“Oh wretched man, to think I would betray that very thing that saved me. It is as they say, I am worthless and depraved. For what sort of perverse heart would allow such treachery to his beloved? Forgive me, beautiful one. Let me die in your stead! Let me suffer eternal if it would grant you but a fleeting smile! Oh evil darkness, and festering terror, you shall not claim this day victorious! I will not let you take her from me!”
As he spoke, the man began to glow. His millenia of reflecting her light had left a deep well of her power bubbling in his bones. With each word he shined brighter, focusing the life-giving shine only on her. The spikes of sinew retreated and burned. The ribs that ate her flesh melted and cooled. The very land itself, once made of the bodies of the Light and Man, conceded, and returned to her, rebuilding what she had lost.
The Man poured everything he had into the Light, and just as despair took him, the Light’s eyes fluttered open. In a searing ray of brilliance, her glory burst across the sky. Fearing the Terror’s hateful eyes, he lunged in front of it, bearing the merciless splendor to keep her hidden. He held himself aloft in the space between Evaira and the Terror. One side burned him, the other haunted, yet he stood firm and resolute.
The Light watched in a daze, still lacking the strength to move. She fought for breath without lungs, and reached for him with severed arms. The man only smiled, weeping as he confessed his love and apologies. He bore the brunt of her power and reflected it directly back unto her. With each passing year, the Light was restored by her own glow, and the land around her transformed to cradle her.
Born anew, she stood and spoke his name. His cratered form collapsed, and fell hard to Evaira. The Light met him, and caught his sagging form. She looked at him with tender pity, for he was not the same. Centuries of eclipsing her brilliance had robbed him of all color and tone. Where once the soft flesh of man offered comfort, there remained only calloused and cratered stone.
Draped in her arms, he loved her still. Pursing his dying lips to apologize with his last breath, the Light met them with her own. She breathed her love deep inside him, pouring golden, resplendent light into his very soul. Their kiss was long, and pure, and overdo.
Trembling, he looked up at her, frail fingers caressing her wondrous face.
“I have failed you, my love…”
“Nonsense,” she shushed, wiping his tears. “You have saved me from loneliness. Fought at my side, and protected me when I was weary. Not once did you ask me to lessen myself. To dim or wane. Never did you shield your eyes, but rather, you endured torment to serve me. In all our hours, you have only echoed my spirit to where it could not reach without you… Nonsense, oh truest love of mine. I shall hear no apologizes, or final words.”
The man laughed, tears falling harder.
“But there is no more of me…” his voice but a breath. The Light beheld him and knew it true. His form crumbled in her grasp, becoming ash upon the earth. “This is a proper penance for my weakness…”
The Light’s lips quivered, and tears welled fast. There were no words to say. They stared at one another with tender gaze for a long while. But the Light was not one for quitting, and had never been denied. She laid the shattered man and laid atop him. With gentle care she kissed him deep once, twice, and time again, and let him drink of her splendor. Soon their bodies intertwined, and scintillating patterns burst across the horizon.
“Lover of mine,” the Light panted, “I fear I am too selfish to let you die. I need you at my side, or there is no joy in breathing.”
“I seek only to behold your glory,” the man moaned back. “Without you, there is but cold despair.”
The Light gave herself freely, for no one is meant to be alone. They loved without limits, and healed not only their bodies but their souls. Their tears puddled and carved rivers and seas into the festering world beneath them. Their hot breath became wind and took to the sky, souring in the gangly bone-branches looming above, unable to fly higher.
“Dare not abandon me!” The Light cried.
“Never!” The Man echoed.
The land around them trembled, rotting and decaying in disgust for their love. Still, they loved harder, and shined all the brighter. In a crescendo that would forever be deemed as The First Sunrise, their love blossomed true, bursting into torrential dawn. Their combined light spilled across writhing Evaira, and in perfect unison wailed with euphoria.
“Though this damnable world is wretched, and merciless, your love gives meaning to every heartache!”
They both held very still, and a silence fell upon Evaira. The dying, bleeding carnage turned its gaze to them, and knew too it had been changed.
-Radiant Union, Sacred Text of the Kindred Gods (written by the Prophet Landor).
~ That Which Was Born of Struggle ~
“The river of tears rose up and reached for the bodies that had bore them, taking the feminine shape of the Light in liquid form. Their panting breaths took the forms of lithe figures and flew on wings of wind to rejoin their parents. And the very ground on whence they loved—the dirt and stone and grass—stood tall and manly. The family huddled together and looked at the sour world which recessed with reverence.
“Will you live on for me, my love?” The Light gasped, brilliant fingers running through the man’s silvered hair.
“That and more.” He kissed her once and basked in her gaze. “Though I fear I lack the strength I once knew.”
“I too!” The Light laughed, unbothered by this truth. “Strength is but a meager cost if it keeps you here with me.”
Their children drew near, “And you’ve us now.”
“So be it then.” The Light smiled, removing herself from the man to stand and stretch. She cast her gaze across the blooming land and gleamed. “If I can only shine for half a day, then you must shine the other.”
“So it shall be.” The man beamed, attempting to stand, but buckled with exhaustion.
“In waxes and wanes, my dearest love.” The Light whispered, helping the man stand as he winced. “Thus our children will never know total darkness.”
“Aye, I’ve the strength enough for that.”
So it was and has been forever more. The Light shines as our Mother Sun, and the man reflects her glory as Father Moon.They uphold our safety from on high, battling the Night Terror as their first children bless us here on Evaira. Sister Sea grants us passage and drink; and when dancing with Brother Earth, she bears us harvest, crop and bounty. When alone, Brother Earth lends us strength, foundation and immovable resolution. The Twins of Sky lead us in levity, joy and song, carrying the tales of love and loss across all Evaira. We are but glittering echoes of their glory and mirror fragments of a greater whole. By honoring them, their sacrifice, and their resplendent love, we keep the Terror at bay and live with a purpose worthy of their struggle.
-That Which Was Born of Struggle, Sacred Text of the Kindred Gods (written by the Prophet Landor).
~ The After ~
In the days to come, The Sun Mother and Moon Father recovered in solitude and allowed their children to mature and grow on their own. Each faced their own challenges and played a mighty hand breathing life into the dying Evaira. Without their efforts, we’d have no land to sow nor bounty to reap. And after more centuries healing the wounds carried by the Night Terror, the festering flesh turned to fields of green, lakes of boiling blood became prosperous seas, and venomous haze shifted to breathable air. Learn the Children’s stories well, for their struggles contain many lessons, and we owe as much to them as their loving parents.
-The After, Sacred Text of the Kindred Gods (written by the Prophet Landor).