the androgynous keeper of plushfrogs (
crossfortune) wrote in
rainbowfic2013-12-01 10:57 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
what the water gave us;
Name: Mischa
Story: tales from the drowned world
Colors: verdigris (gone from this world), halloween orange (I can't promise to obey you, I can't swear I won't betray you), white opal (solitude), dove grey (he hath awakened from the dream of life)
Supplies and Styles: canvas (creation story)
Word Count: 948
Rating: PG-13
Summary: From water we came and to water we will return. A creation story.
Warnings: N/A (I think).
From water we came, and to water we will return. And without love you cannot be saved.
In the beginning, there was nothing save the Void and the sea, boundless and endless: but the One was the sea, and the sea was Him, and in Him was everything there was. Until at last he grew lonely, and in His loneliness, wished there to be something else. And so He walked the sea and sang without knowing what He wanted, and from the sea rose the land: and while that was good, it was not what He was searching for, which was to no longer be alone.
He was alone and knew not how not to be alone, and in His loneliness wept and sang, and his song brought forth the Eight, His children. And He was both amazed and happy, for He was no longer alone. He loved His children, with all His heart, and to them each, He gave to them a fragment of His song, gifted to each a fragment most suited to their own nature, so that they, too, might be able to create.
And so they created: the day and the night, dreams and time, and all that lay within the world, the animals and plants, and yet, still, something was missing: and then they thought, and sang together, and from their song was born the race of humans, who were all their children, and then finally, their creation was complete. To His children, the One gave the world and all that was in it, for He had no desire to rule: all He had wanted was to be no longer alone, and His only commandment was for them to love Him best. All the rest was for Them alone to determine.
And for a time, all was well. The Eight gave to the race of humans many gifts: and with those gifts, and under the Eight’s watchful eyes, they built themselves a civilization that was glorious beyond all wonder or recall, for these were the days before the world was broken, and until the world is remade, those days will never come again. And perhaps these days would have lasted forever, save that the Eight grew lonely themselves, and with the humans, had children of their own, children that were neither god nor human, but something new, in-between, born with an echo of their parent’s gifts. And to humanity, they gave one last gift: the gift of magic, as a token of their love for them.
And upon witnessing this gift, the One was most wroth and jealous: He felt that his children had broken His commandment, loved humanity more than they ever had loved Him. And therefore, the Eight would have to be punished...and he would begin creation anew. Even create new children who would love only Him, begin completely over again. He drowned much of the world in water, people and their creations sent to the bottom in a single instant: all that remained above the waves was a single archipelago, as the Eight managed to save that much, but no more.
The Eight and their remaining demigod children determined that in order to save what was left of the world and their own existences, they would have to ride to war against their father: even Tanit, the god of love, compassion and mercy at last stood to fight hir father, though sie wept and would plead for His life. Their battle shook all heaven and earth, and they say that Ninuriel, the most beautiful of all the lost cities, a reflection of heaven’s glory on earth, was erased from existence so thoroughly that only the Eight and the One remember that it even existed as anything more than fragments of a lost dream, fragments so beautiful that poets die trying to write words that capture an echo of that lost beauty and dreamers die to not wake from that dream.
But by some miracle, the Eight and their children prevailed, in the end, and threw down the One, before the world was entirely destroyed: the eldest of the Eight, Harinder, the god of storms and war, would have slain their father, though he loved him, save for the plea for mercy from his middle sibling. But even Tanit’s cry for mercy could not change the necessity of what happened next: instead of slaying their father, they instead banished him from the world, sealing him in the Void between what is and what is not. And at the last, He cursed Ethniu, the goddess of dreams who had been his favorite child, cursed her with eternal sleep, to never awaken until the end of all things, a curse that could not be broken. She had shared everything that she was, with her twin brother, Eilian, including their domains: Dreams and Time walked hand-in-hand, sharing the burden of that which they watched over, but alone, Eilian cracked under the weight of all he saw and knew and went mad, to never be healed until his sister woke.
The world was broken: the world was diminished. The gods were broken: the gods were diminished. But the world and the gods yet endured, and the task fell to them to repairing broken creation: The kingship over heaven and earth passed to the youngest, Liora, the goddess of law and light, for all others stepped aside and would not hear her protests of how she was unworthy.
Humanity built themselves a new kingdom: the world remained in peace for a very long time, until it was no longer. But as to what happened next, that is another story.
Story: tales from the drowned world
Colors: verdigris (gone from this world), halloween orange (I can't promise to obey you, I can't swear I won't betray you), white opal (solitude), dove grey (he hath awakened from the dream of life)
Supplies and Styles: canvas (creation story)
Word Count: 948
Rating: PG-13
Summary: From water we came and to water we will return. A creation story.
Warnings: N/A (I think).
From water we came, and to water we will return. And without love you cannot be saved.
In the beginning, there was nothing save the Void and the sea, boundless and endless: but the One was the sea, and the sea was Him, and in Him was everything there was. Until at last he grew lonely, and in His loneliness, wished there to be something else. And so He walked the sea and sang without knowing what He wanted, and from the sea rose the land: and while that was good, it was not what He was searching for, which was to no longer be alone.
He was alone and knew not how not to be alone, and in His loneliness wept and sang, and his song brought forth the Eight, His children. And He was both amazed and happy, for He was no longer alone. He loved His children, with all His heart, and to them each, He gave to them a fragment of His song, gifted to each a fragment most suited to their own nature, so that they, too, might be able to create.
And so they created: the day and the night, dreams and time, and all that lay within the world, the animals and plants, and yet, still, something was missing: and then they thought, and sang together, and from their song was born the race of humans, who were all their children, and then finally, their creation was complete. To His children, the One gave the world and all that was in it, for He had no desire to rule: all He had wanted was to be no longer alone, and His only commandment was for them to love Him best. All the rest was for Them alone to determine.
And for a time, all was well. The Eight gave to the race of humans many gifts: and with those gifts, and under the Eight’s watchful eyes, they built themselves a civilization that was glorious beyond all wonder or recall, for these were the days before the world was broken, and until the world is remade, those days will never come again. And perhaps these days would have lasted forever, save that the Eight grew lonely themselves, and with the humans, had children of their own, children that were neither god nor human, but something new, in-between, born with an echo of their parent’s gifts. And to humanity, they gave one last gift: the gift of magic, as a token of their love for them.
And upon witnessing this gift, the One was most wroth and jealous: He felt that his children had broken His commandment, loved humanity more than they ever had loved Him. And therefore, the Eight would have to be punished...and he would begin creation anew. Even create new children who would love only Him, begin completely over again. He drowned much of the world in water, people and their creations sent to the bottom in a single instant: all that remained above the waves was a single archipelago, as the Eight managed to save that much, but no more.
The Eight and their remaining demigod children determined that in order to save what was left of the world and their own existences, they would have to ride to war against their father: even Tanit, the god of love, compassion and mercy at last stood to fight hir father, though sie wept and would plead for His life. Their battle shook all heaven and earth, and they say that Ninuriel, the most beautiful of all the lost cities, a reflection of heaven’s glory on earth, was erased from existence so thoroughly that only the Eight and the One remember that it even existed as anything more than fragments of a lost dream, fragments so beautiful that poets die trying to write words that capture an echo of that lost beauty and dreamers die to not wake from that dream.
But by some miracle, the Eight and their children prevailed, in the end, and threw down the One, before the world was entirely destroyed: the eldest of the Eight, Harinder, the god of storms and war, would have slain their father, though he loved him, save for the plea for mercy from his middle sibling. But even Tanit’s cry for mercy could not change the necessity of what happened next: instead of slaying their father, they instead banished him from the world, sealing him in the Void between what is and what is not. And at the last, He cursed Ethniu, the goddess of dreams who had been his favorite child, cursed her with eternal sleep, to never awaken until the end of all things, a curse that could not be broken. She had shared everything that she was, with her twin brother, Eilian, including their domains: Dreams and Time walked hand-in-hand, sharing the burden of that which they watched over, but alone, Eilian cracked under the weight of all he saw and knew and went mad, to never be healed until his sister woke.
The world was broken: the world was diminished. The gods were broken: the gods were diminished. But the world and the gods yet endured, and the task fell to them to repairing broken creation: The kingship over heaven and earth passed to the youngest, Liora, the goddess of law and light, for all others stepped aside and would not hear her protests of how she was unworthy.
Humanity built themselves a new kingdom: the world remained in peace for a very long time, until it was no longer. But as to what happened next, that is another story.