Embers
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Post by Embers on Jun 9, 2013 20:15:41 GMT -5
LEGENDS DIRECTORY These user-written legends are only some of the spiritual beliefs held by natives of the False World. These legends do not necessarily co-exist, rather, represent separate interpretations of life. Characters may choose to subscribe to the belief of these legends, or ignore them in their entirety. Regardless, they are a unique part of in-character culture in the False World, and have importance to many. Feel free to read at your leisure.
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Embers
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Post by Embers on Jun 9, 2013 20:21:48 GMT -5
LEGEND OF THE FIRST BORN by TwilightName - Meaning - Lineage Anor – Sunlight - Son of Sontath, God of Seasons Laer – Song - Daughter of Ranka, God of Music Neleg – Tooth - Son of Tonrai, God of Abundance Neth – Young – Son of Tenki, God of Birth Only a few remember, the First Born, the ones that are older than even they care to recall. Only they can recall the name of the world they called home and the history that brought it into being. They remember, because they helped create it. The First were four, named Anor, Laer, Neleg, and Neth. No one knows what species they were, but they were gifted with the powers of their godly parents and together they used their gifts to shape the world. At the time of their birth, the world was flat and held no shape and no light, but the single dry scar in the land that later will be known as the Dried River Bed. Deep in their souls, the First could hear voices of beings that were as ageless as the land around them. They whispered the name of the world and guided the First in their actions. It is said that, once their tasks were completed, the First Born traveled to the Dried River Bed and left their bodies behind them, becoming the spirits of the world, demigods of sorts. Anor was the brightest of the First, in more ways than one, as he learned quickly and the more he knew, the brighter his golden fur would shine in the darkness. He soon became so bright that the others could not look directly at him, but because of him they could see the world through the darkness.
It is said in stories that he was the child of Sontath, God of Seasons, and the weather is dependent on Anor’s mood. Sadly, Anor is cursed with a pain in his heart, the pain of a lost love.
Laer had been the only female, and she was more beautiful then any before or after her. She was said to be only second to her voice and her songs. Her fur was woven from silver songs and as such it became more lovely as she grew older and learned more songs from her father, Ranka, God of Music, who sang inside her.
She was happy, her songs brought peace and love to the First Born. Only, as she became beautiful, Anor and Neleg began to feel an irresistible attraction to her. They courted and they brought her gifts. Anor brought her warmth in his illuminated fur, while Neleg brought to her the most beautiful of gardens and small furry creatures that made Laer's heart melt.
Neleg was the child of Tonrai, god of abundance. He was born with a white pelt, and his pawsteps encouraged the growth of plants beneath him. Flowers and shrubs would grow in his wake and prey would develop from his breath and words, providing the First with food and covering the world with beautiful gardens.
Oh, Laer loved them both, but Neleg felt the cold grip of greed to possess the one thing he could not create more of. He asked Laer to choose him over Anor.
Laer, horrified that she must choose, snapped at Neleg and told him that his greed had cost him her friendship and then she ran away. She ran to the brightness on the horizon, to Anor.
She met Neth first, and he was planting something in the ground. The seeds were twisted and ugly to Laer's eyes but Neth seemed to think they were the beautiful thing in their world. He was the son of Tenki, god of birth, and therefore had always had the greatest care for young life. He was also Neleg's adopted little brother, often going to him for help. Laer paused to sing Neth a song as he worked, which helped to start the seeds growing. Then she gave him an affectionate nuzzle as she moved on to find Anor.
Neleg was next to come to Neth, but he didn't part ways as quickly. Instead he placed his paw over Neth's seedlings and they began to grow larger gradually. Neth and Neleg took turns speaking to the growing plants, which grew huge and bore sweet fruit. Neleg allowed the tree to grow and, feeling that birth and life should not be so brief, Neth slept that night under the branches, praying to his father for life to grow in the great trees. The next morning, there were large cocoons in the trees, bigger then any fruits before them but they did not appear ready to be plucked.
Neleg had spent that night sleeping at the edge of the Dried River Bed, debating just allowing the gods to take his life by stepping into the dead river. But as he lay there, his mind became full of thoughts of dislike and pain, of revenge. Laer and Anor had caused him this pain, but he could not fully blame Anor since it was Laer who had torn this hole in his heart. Anor was merely the salt that made the wound sting.
Why didn't Laer love him? He would have given her the world and she.... She would pay. He would make her pay!
The skies above began to become so bright, the air so warm and fresh, a sign of Anor's happiness as Laer reached him. Neleg did not feel this warmth, and as he looked at his paws he saw how his luminescent white fur had become as black as the darkness he was born into. In front of him were huge figures of shifting darkness, their eyes as bright as Anor's fur and their teeth just as white as Neleg had been.
On the will of their creator, the creatures ran across the skies, toward the song that filled the air. The music soon turned to a world shattering scream, then silence. Followed by cold and flecks of white. Snow. The cold caused the trees and plants to whither and Neleg could hear the pain of Neth, who cried for the lose of his beloved trees and the lives that were growing in them.
Neleg, confused, ran to meet his friend, but Neth did not seem to recognize the black creature as Neleg, and he ran away, smelling the sour hate in Neleg's soul and feeling that he was the death of his beloved newborns.
Neleg looked at his paws, hoping to see the usual flowers and tall grass growing, but the snow had killed the plants, so all that was there was the unbroken white sheet.
Neleg ran to Anor, seeing the light fading rapidly. Anor was crouched over a still silver form, the body twisted and broken but there was no blood. Laer didn't move, she didn't breathe... she was dead!
Horrified by what he had done, for it was clear he was the cause of it, Neleg helped Anor carry Laer's body to the Dried River Bed and lay her there, to rest in peace. Not long after, Laer's silver form faded and rose to the heavens like smoke.
It was not her time to pass into the afterlife, she had died far to soon. So the gods allowed her to remain, in spirit in the skies. The darkness on the sky exploded with speckles of light, and in the center of it all there was a huge star, which glowed a silver light. Laer became the moon and helped provide light to the world whenever Anor felt tired.
Anor, Neleg, and Neth all raised their voices then, to sing tribute to their beloved sister. As they fell silent, they could swear they heard Laer's song in reply, as the moon bathed them in silver light.
Neleg, broken by his actions, soon allowed his body to be dissolved in the Dried River Bed, wanting to join his beloved in the heavens above, but he did not appear in the skies as Laer did. Only the snow melted and green plants, flowers, and fruit bearing trees revived and mountains rose from the previously flat land. Water welled up from the ground and created great lakes and rivers and waterfalls... His passing made the world beautiful again.
Anor followed with Neleg, laying beside the dark, broken creature that only wanted to make up for his wrong doings. Anor wanted also to be with Laer, but unlike Neleg, Anor kept his body in the afterlife. He did not wanting to leave the world in darkness.
For this selflessness, he was allowed to live in the skies, following his sweet Laer across the heavens and providing the world with light and warmth as the sun. The curse of this though, was that his body still feels the pain from her death. It still haunts him to this day, and during the time he is happy, the world will be warm, and while he is in pain it will be icy cold.
Neth lingered in the world, nurturing life back into the child bearing trees and pleaded to the gods for a way to never see them die again. His plea was granted by Anor's father, Sontath, and forever the three surviving trees were not affected by the cold of winter.
Neth lived for hundreds of seasons, rearing the young that hatched from the cocoons and healing their frail mortal sicknesses. He told them the story of his siblings and what became of them. He told them how each tree was the remnants of Anor, Laer and Neleg.
He told them how to predict the change of seasons:
"Anor knows when the pain will start, and when it will end, so if you feel the air start to get cool or warm, then you know he is transitioning from one phase to the next."
He taught them how to listen for the voices of the gods:
"At your lowest point, be silent and listen to the wind. Hear how the wind blows through the trees and you may hear Laer's song of love and comfort."
And he told them of Neleg's pain and sacrifice:
"My brother Neleg was torn by the most poisonous pain there is in the world. He did not understand it, he could no longer hear his father's voice within him and his fur changed as his heart searched for a cure. He found peace when he allowed the gods to reclaim his heart. His passing stopped the cold and brought the life and beauty you see all around you in our world."
...
Some say Neth allowed himself to fade as his friends did, and became the cycle of rebirth that allows more life to come from the coccoons. Others say he wanders the lands still, telling his story to any who will listen, and enjoying feel of new life through his paws. He has forever loved the feel of life, the sweetness of peace, for he had never seen the world for what it was. He is blind, after all.
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Embers
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Post by Embers on Jun 9, 2013 20:30:24 GMT -5
LEGEND OF SPECIES & THE WASTED LAND by ReeIn a time before even the oldest of living creatures can remember, there existed but a single intelligent race. This race was neither canine nor feline, but a perfect blend of the two, blessed by the gods. Its members lived happy, prosperous lives, forming a vast cluster of tribes in the midst of a mixed woodland. The woods teemed with both plant and animal life, and there was no shortage of shade, water, or prey for its inhabitants. No one ever left the woods except to breed or collect their newborns from the orchard to bring them home. There was the occasional quarrel between tribes or specific individuals, but these were normally settled quickly and all was peaceful.
Then came the monsters.
There were many of them, all in different shapes and sizes but all bigger and stronger than the tribe members. They consumed the prey, destroyed the plants, and polluted the water in the woods so that many of the tribe members began to fall ill and perish. The tribes united, but - even together - their strength was no match for the monsters, and many of the tribe members died in battle.
Desperate for a way to defend themselves, the creatures began to pray, beseeching any god who would listen to aid them in their struggle. Their cries fell on the ears of Esperre, the goddess of hope. Esperre sought out Meara, the goddess of protection, and informed her of the situation with the tribe. Meara's heart grew heavy with the news, and she went with Esperre to the forest, where she saw for herself the monstrous beings that were destroying so much life.
Meara gathered up the survivors of the tribes and touched each of them. With the touch came a miracle - a new form for each of the creatures, according to their abilities. The larger creatures with higher endurance and greater strength became what we now know as canines, and sacrificed the agility and speed they had to gain more muscle and a larger size to help them overpower the monsters. The smaller, quicker, more agile creatures became what we now know as felines, reducing their brute strength and overall endurance to optimize their ability to strike quickly and dodge their enemies' fangs and claws. A select few creatures became larger versions of their brothers and sisters, transforming into the world's first occult species. Even fewer tribe members became larger still and took on the form now known as absconding. The evolved creatures were given powers unique to their new breed and placed at the head of the tribe as generals and lieutenants.
With the new army ready, they went to war. The battle was vicious and would claim even more lives, but - this time - the creatures were able to hold their own against the monsters. The canines rushed their opponents, using their greater weight and large fangs to crush bone and wear their opponents down. The felines fought just as viciously, their sharp claws cutting through vital veins and organs and their paws carrying them out of danger and toward their next opponent in almost the same instant.
At last, the battle was over The monsters all lay dead at the feet of the surviving tribe members. It would be nice to say that life was peaceful and happy after that and that the tribes remained united and strong, but this is only the first part of the story.
With the threat of the monsters gone, the felines and canines were meant to unite and prosper once more. Instead, they divided themselves by species and built up different, separate tribes with the occult and absconding species leading the aboriginals. Even though the woods were still abundant enough to support the canines and felines, neither species was content to share with the other, and many battles took place as once species tried to kill or run out the other. Peace wasn't to be found within the tribes, either - the occults and abscondings came to believe themselves superior to their unevolved and less-evolved kindred, and the aboriginals became little more than slaves to their whims.
The battles raged on for seasons, and then years. The fighting scared off prey and trampled plants. The water became further polluted as more and more bodies fell and remained where they dropped, poisoning what plant life remained untouched by the battles. What had once been a lush forest was reduced to an expanse of rock and dirt with the occasional path of grass and brush, and even these withered and died until only the rare fern remained. Through it all, Meara watched, dismayed. How was she to protect the creatures from themselves? All her pleas for them to disregard their physical differences and come back together peacefully fell on deaf ears.
At last, all plant life had been depleted and all water unfit to drink. Creatures that weren't dying in battle were dying of hunger and thirst, and Meara grew angry. She arrived in the middle of a battle and let out the most fearsome howl any of the creatures had heard - an angry sound that penetrated to the core of their souls and ad pulled them immediately from their fight. All eyes were on her as she stepped forward, her fiery gaze scorching each pelt as she rebuked them for fighting when they had been given their blessings so that they might protect each other. With a sweep of her tail, she had them take in the sight of their surroundings, and she explained how they had turned their territory into a wasted land. From that point on, the land that had once been the forest was known to all as Wasted Land.
The creatures she had gifted with evolutions were transformed one more time, but now their forms were small and rodent-like, helpless prey creature at the mercy of those they had abused. It is said that these are the ancestors of the pebble-sized rodents that occupy Wasted Land. Occult and absconding species would not appear again until the gods deemed the creatures once more worthy of their blessing. The other creatures kept their forms, and Meara promised that - with their differences -they'd never again know the true peace and unity that they had been blessed with in the time before the monsters invaded.
Meara left the creatures to dwell on what they had done, but - before long - Esperre appeared to them. She was saddened by the creatures' plight, and she offered a promise of her own: When members of each race truly learn how to be at peace with one another, the original race will be reborn. When that happens, the three races will be as one, and the creatures will know that the gods have finally forgiven them.
As for Wasted Land, the story differs with each teller. Some versions of this legend say Meara cursed the land so that few plants would ever grow again, a constant reminder of the creatures' failure to protect each other as they should. Others say that the land is merely dormant, the lush forest of ancient days waiting for the creatures to prove they can live in harmony before it grows back into its former glory and the age of the tribes may begin again. Still others say that the gods are waiting for the right creatures to appear and shape the land as they see fit. As for the truth, only time may tell.
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Embers
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Post by Embers on Jun 9, 2013 20:34:31 GMT -5
THE WORLD'S BEGINNING by HazelstarMain Characters Dor - God of Time Estrella - Goddess of Stars Ra - God of the Sun Lucine - Goddess of the Moon Dor was the very first existence he was the very meaning of time itself. Nobody knows how he came to be, but he was the first. The one true creator. Dor had a very dreary existence, for he was all alone in the darkness. When one day his loneliness became too much to bear he decided to try and create his own friend. He pulled together the brightest of his thoughts and used this positive energy to create a large, hot orb which spewed fire. With this great flaming orb came a flaming spirit which Dor decided to name Ra. Dor and Ra went through centuries of friendship together until one day Ra became jealous of Dor's power over time. Ra's rage grew stronger and stronger until an orb much smaller than the Sun was created. It was basically a large reflective sun which was full or Ra's negative energy. With this orb came a dark, evil spirit known as Lucine. When Dor found out about this he became enraged at Ra and trapped him in the center of the Sun. He could not destroy the negative powers of the rock orb, so he decided to call it Moon. Dor found Lucine on the Moon and fell madly in love with her, the god and goddess became mates soon after they met. They had many children, but that's another story. Ra eventually broke free of his prison in the Sun, when he found that Dor had taken his creation as his own mate he used the uncontainable powers of his rage to trap Dor in the Sun so he could have a taste of his own medicine. This sent Lucine into a despair, she longed for her mate and did not except Ra as a friend and kept to her Moon, and kept a shield of love around it that Ra could not conquer. Ra tried over centuries to break the love shield around the Moon, but he could not. He needed to create his own army of helpers, but he knew he did not possess this strength. He felt a strong sense of betrayal, he captured this energy and spewed it across the blank horizon of blackness and nothingness. Small beads of light began to form, Ra called these Stars. With these Stars came a spirit of hatred and betrayal. Ra called her Estrella. After a few centuries Ra and Estrella had mastered their powers, Ra of a newly found spirit of a burning hatred and Estrella of pain, despair, and betrayal. They used their combined powers to shatter the Shield of love Lucine had created. The two fell upon the Moon spirit in a rage and trapped her in her own creation. Dor grew in strength as he was trapped, he believed in forgiveness and kindness and used these powers to break the hold which Ra's powers had on him. He broke free of his prison and found that his mate had been sealed away in the Moon and that small orbs had arose on the horizon with the spirit called Estrella. Dor rushed upon Ra and demanded to know why he was being so cruel, when he was once a friend. Ra laughed at him and told him that he was weak and did not deserve to control the creation and destruction of everything. This made Dor furious, he rushed towards the Sun and smashed it with his powers causing Ra to disappear. Estrella ran off towards her orbs after this and wasn't seen for centuries. The next day Dor realized his mistake, but he couldn't remake Ra no matter how hard he tried, he went to the Moon and broke Lucine free of her prison and begged her to help him. Lucine refused, she was a caring spirit, but she couldn't help bring back a spirit which had almost caused her and her mate to disappear forever. Dor feel into deep despair and secluded himself in the blackness which used to be the sun. A single tear dripped from his spirit, it swelled and burst forth into a flaming orb which Ra stepped from, the old Ra, the friendly one. A century passed Dor, Ra, and Lucine grew to love each other like a family, they had nearly forgotten Estrella, but she was still there growing more powerful in her loneliness. Estrella soon rushed at the three her powers threatening to tear them all apart, but the three used their powers of love, caring, and forgiveness to try and fight her off. The four feelings, Hate, love, caring, and forgiveness formed together into a great orb. This orb spun rapidly, it was a great sight. The orb rippled with life, small shoots of grass shot up and the earth rippled into small hills and great mountains. Trees sprung about and bushes and flowers danced across the plains. The four spirits looked on in wonder at this unable to explain it all. When it seemed to be done with its transformation the four spirits decided to call it Earth. Estrella apologized to the three for her unnecessary anger, Ra and Lucine were skeptical, but Dor forgave her. With this, the for spirits decided never to fight again with this bold movement they also created creatures to express their bonds towards each other, each creature expressing a different feeling. All the creatures from the strange orange-feathered birds, to the aboriginal felines, to the absconding canines, to the horse-sized sloth. They loved and revered all these creatures and decided to let them decide their own feelings. Whether to follow love and peace or hatred and war. ....And that is how it all began.
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Embers
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Post by Embers on Jun 9, 2013 20:38:10 GMT -5
LEGEND by Flynn"Mama, tell me a story!" "I'm not your mama and I don't know any good stories." "Tell me a true story, then." "No." "Please?" "You won't like my stories." "I like all stories!" "Hmm. You won't come crying to me if you can't sleep, then?" "I won't! Promise I won't!" "All right. Just keep walking and I'll tell you what my... what someone told me."
I’m sure you remember the nine, though their names are slowly fading from memory. First, the high three: Liyé, god or goddess of knowledge; Orela and Orelim, the conjoined god and goddess of fate; Maue, god over emotions. Then the material three: Sesua, goddess of earth; Uris, god of water; Nikim, god of air. And finally, the three of mortality: the god of summer, warmth and the sun, Emer; the goddess of winter, cold and the moon, Isir; and the unknown deity of change, Thysar. You can trust to the nine as you can trust to the dry river, which has never run with water and never will.
Way back, a long time ago when the gods still cared, we didn’t have much. There wasn’t as much variation then, even in coat colour. We weren’t defined into species: canid or felid, we were one kind—though you wouldn’t believe it to look at those mangy cretins, would you? My story concerns the first adventure of an ancient warrior called Bayar and her brother, Sarab. Oh, she was a real fighter, that one: too much glory in those bones by half. Sarab was not without talent either. It was said that, where Bayar could fight as if the gods themselves lived in her claws, Sarab could sing so that they would slit their own throats. If you have that sickening interest in portents and all that rot, it might please you to know that they were the ninth litter of the ninth litter—a holy number, a litter for each of the nine gods.
Anyway, the two were alike in every other sense: both were fabulously good-looking, as heroes generally are. They were sleek and grey from elegant nose to graceful tail, and each had eyes of brilliant silver. You doubtless know how the custom went then: there were great clans and tribes of families who all lived together in great cities. Bayar and Sarab’s family had built a city in the forests far west. I’ll have to tell you of their other adventures some other time. Anyway, as is customary for heroes, the siblings lived alone in the wilds, preferring the monsters and constant danger to a life of ease and luxury. On one particular night, they had set up camp under the light of the full moon. It is then that, as Sarab fell into fitful slumber, he felt the telltale sting of prophecy behind his eyes. In his dream, he saw (as if from a great height), his sister’s coat soaked with blood—but not just any blood: this was the blood of the gods. As his sister stood atop their colossal corpses, he saw her throw back her head, look into his eyes and let loose a wicked laugh that shook the heavens and cracked the earth beneath her. She laughed like a mad creature. She laughed like a demon.
The brother awoke panting and looked all about him for his sister. There she slept, her coat turned to coal by the darkness of night. He found himself shrinking back from her; even in sleep, she cut a fearsome shadow. He knew what she was capable of. Still, every second he stayed was wasted time: he knew exactly who to ask to help him. He fled the clearing, running so far and so fast that he left blood in his paw-prints; he ran for nine days and eight nights until, on the coming of the ninth night, he arrived at the foot of the great mountains. She was waiting for him, her milk-white coat patterned with crimson whorls and yellow spots. This was Aiyah, the leader of those who devoted their lives to following the ways and words of the gods, and as he told her his story, he saw her ancient features twist in resignation. It was foretold, she murmured, and gestured him to follow her up the mountain-side. Over the mountaintops, into the land far beyond, she pointed, and Sarab gasped. Assembled were more souls than he could ever have imagined, as many as the grasses in the forests of his home, each painted in the same fashion. These are your people? he asked, in awe. These are my people, Aiyah replied. You see, we are ready for the Warrior.
But from down the mountainside came a familiar cry. Brother! Sarab!
Sarab spun around and his heart fell. Aiyah shrieked. You brought her here! It is not time! What have you done?! Bayar was getting closer now, and Sarab couldn’t help the relief that coursed through him. Sister! The word was a melody, pure and clean. Aiyah bristled and for a moment Sayar saw the flash of something brutal behind her eyes. This was not your destiny, Singer. And like some grotesque and fast-moving maggot, she grew. Her legs became as wide as rivers; her fangs grew until they scraped the ground and her skin bulged taught against thick muscle. And on the ground far below, he saw that the painted army was doing the same.
Like a silver comet, Bayar leaped through the air. She slammed into the growing creature, her claws drawing thick cords of blood, but she did not even slow down. The great beast threw her head back and loosed a roar to shake the mountain. Sarab was frozen to the spot, but Bayar, she was like a shark in bloody water: she did not mess around trying to claw through that thick hide and instead leaped for the great head where two eyes rested, large and oh-so vulnerable. In disbelief, the siblings saw Aiyah simply disappear. Bayar crashed to the earth. The priestess had reappeared behind her brother, her huge paw about to land the killing blow. Bayar knew she was faster. In one leap, she tackled Sarab out of the way and then, as they rolled between Aiyah’s forepaws, leaped for the throat. One bite, one chokehold, was not enough. Sarab, frightened though he was, knew what she wanted him to do. His song was high and sweet. He sang to the air in Aiyah’s lungs and saw her heave for breath, but there was no air that would come to her. Aiyah’s thrashings grew weaker. She began to stumble, and then, as Sarab’s song reached its final note, she fell.
The battle was not yet won, of course: Bayar was only just getting started. A lick of thanks to her brother’s cheek and she tore down the mountainside, already planning the bloody swathe she would cut through this army. Sarab sat on the mountaintop, shaking. She fought for days and nights without stopping, and when the dawn came, Sarab woke to see his sister standing atop a new mountain. She felt his gaze and threw back her head to catch his eye, and laughed and laughed and laughed.
“So it was all OK in the end, right?” “Well, not quite.”
This is where the story gets sticky. See, Bayar and Sarab lived on for many years, slaying the wicked wherever they found them; now they were directed by Sarab’s dreams instead of running from them. When death took them at last -don’t look at me like that; even heroes die- it is supposed that they died in the middle of a wild forest-- but that land has been an empty waste for as long as I’ve been drawing breath.
Before their deaths and after that battle, no more children were born: the gods lost their faith in our ability to raise children. They could not take away that... I guess you’d call it ‘magic’. They couldn’t take away the magic that keeps us alive and that we harnessed to bring new life into the world, as the gods do. In any new generation, the magic used to create life would now be free, and would manifest in some other way. The new species would gain gifts beyond those of any creature before them-- if they harnessed that power. To commemorate Aiyah’s loyalty, the new species’ magic would be fettered to give them the same gifts the gods had given her: prophecy and the ability to jump between places in a blink. But as the gods could alter our magic, perhaps these are not the only gifts we can have.
To replace the former magic, the gods created seeds. Orela and Orelim pulled three claws and gave each to one of the three tiers, to bless as they saw fit. From these seeds grew three trees, and from these trees, offspring were to be born. But Thysar was a sneaky one. Not only had the god stolen some of the twins' claws, Thysar had blessed all three of the seeds. They began to grow; and when the gods saw that they would live, they set about taking their revenge.
Their wrath descended on the grey ones of Bayar and Sarab’s generation. First, Maue let all emotion loose: he would keep the gods' fury contained no longer. Liyé withdrew her gift of knowledge from the grey creatures, and Isir’s fury tore them into tiny pieces. Some she attacked so violently that she stripped most of their fur, creating the pebble-sized rodents. Sesua’s rage frightened some so badly that they took to the trees and never touched earth again. From the first generation, the gods tore and split and rejoined all the grey creatures into all the animals that inhabit this land today-- except for the snakes; they have their own tale. The gods are capable of great things, but they were not terribly great to us.
Bayar’s mountain of corpses soon became a true mountain: an earthquake swallowed the brittle bones and threw up the capped peaks in their place. The children were born: Thyar's tinkering became evident. Some were the colour of night; others glowed golden, like a grey coat changed by the rising sun. Some were such a strange brown that it could, in the right light, be blood red. As they grew, there were even greater differences: faces were wide or narrow, snubbed or long. Tails stretched like vines or were lopped off short, and the length of coats became just as varied. No more would the gods see the faces of the two in any mortal... Well, except once in a while, when Thysar tired of bright colours.
Thysar was the only god who had enjoyed Bayar and Sarab’s time on this earth. In honour of them, Thysar had made two kinds of offspring. The small were called feline, reflective of Sarab’s reserved nature; the retractable claws allowed them to be sharp-clawed when called upon, but gentle and soft during peace. In the canines, Thysar allowed for strength and speed, with huge jaws and teeth to remind of Bayar's killing bite. There were only ghosts for these children; it took another full generation for the memory and fear to be cleansed from the Orchard so that those full grown could stay to wake the young.
Their anger somewhat abated, the gods did retreat a little from this world. Sesua is mostly silent now; her movements are few and far between. Generally her lover Ursis remains pressed to her side, without flood or monsoon to change his habits. Emer chases Isir; time passes, and the gods relax. But Thysar never sleeps, and it is said that the god still nurses a grudge against Fate for spilling their blood on the Blue Plains.
“Is that another story?” “Yes, for another time. Now close your mouth and keep walking.”
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Embers
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Post by Embers on Jun 9, 2013 20:42:51 GMT -5
LEGEND by RayelTime on our world began when the Creator opened his eyes. There was nothing before then; there was no before. At first the Creator saw only blackness, then slowly the landscape took shape through his gaze: soft green grass tickling his paws as he walked, a lone tree on the horizon silhouetted against a big blue sky. He marveled at the beauty all around him. It was spring and the flowers were in full bloom as he explored this strange new world.
Over time he realized that he controlled this world. The sky darkened when he laid down to rest and it lightened when he awoke. Steep hills that strained his muscles and robbed him of breath became complacently flat, evening out instantly into a plateau (usually with a spectacular view). What joy he experienced when he discovered his power! The constant warmth of summer filled his heart as he traversed the world again, this time crafting the terrain to his liking: some sand dunes here, a meadow there, and -- his favorite -- a wide rushing river to cut through the heart of the land.
The Creator also learned that he could transform even his body. He had always existed as both canine and feline and yet neither, flitting effortlessly between forms to suit his needs, his size and fur color ever-changing. But now he knew that these earthly forms, although pleasing, were superfluous; he could evaporate into the wind, float invisibly over the world, sink into the soil only to sprout from the ground as a majestic tree of blossoms.
But even his power had limitations. He grew bored with the earth and became fixated on the sky. With ease he could make the day cloudy or rainy or bright, but try as he might, he could not reach beyond the boundaries of his world. He began to obsessively search for an avenue from this place to that place, pacing the edge of his world with growing despair. The temperature dropped and the leaves changed colors and flew away from their branches in the autumn wind, but he did not notice. At last, exhausted by his relentless quest to find an escape that did not exist, he knew that he was trapped; what good was it to control the destiny of a cage?
Only when he admitted defeat did the Creator realize what weighed on him heaviest of all: loneliness. He wondered how much time had passed since he first opened his eyes -- all that time spent alone. Now that he had identified the problem he believed the solution easily attainable. He took his time strolling to his favorite spot along the river; he wanted the lively water to be the first thing his companion saw and heard. With an artist’s eye he conjured up an animal identical to his feline form, then gently molded the features to be softer and daintier. As he created her, he felt love for the first time.
Yet when he tried to breathe life into her, his confidence met with a harsher reality. He spent days, months, decades -- who could say -- by her side, willing her to wake from her restful pose and join him, begging her. He did not understand. Although we worship the Creator as a god now, in this ancient time he looked heavenward and wondered if there had not been another, more powerful than him, that had created him. If so, he hated him. He hated whatever had left him stranded here, fated to be alone until the end of time.
One day he lost control. He blamed this nameless female he had created and tried over and over to make some feline or canine that would wake up rather than failing him. Why couldn’t he create life? Surrounded by a hundred motionless bodies, he screamed and ran away, new species left behind in his footsteps as he created any animal his mind could conjure: large snakes reminiscent of his tail, birds with wingspans so massive that surely they could fly away from this world the way he wished to. Each one he tried to give life even though he knew that he would always fail.
The snow started to fall and kept falling. Winter descended on the land in full-force, covering all of the Creator’s lifeless creatures and forcing him to plow his way through the cold. Finally he stopped running. He lied down in the snow and let himself be covered by it. His heart was frozen like the wind and he had nothing left to do but become frozen too.
The Creator spent a long time buried in his own thoughts. He realized that the only living creature in this world had always been him. He realized that the life he wanted to instill in his creations had to come from somewhere. He realized that this life had to come from him.
In an instant the snow melted and the land was green with spring again. He looked around with the same awe and respect that he had once so long ago -- but there was sadness in his gaze now too. But there was also love. He saw the many animals he had created and he loved them all; he wanted them all to live.
The Creator teleported back to the side of his first companion beside the river. He whispered to her how much he wished that he had been able to meet her but how happy he was that she would never have to be alone. Glancing over the many felines and canines he had created in his earlier rage, he lovingly put each in a cocoon and nestled them in the safe branches of trees. Tears rolled down his face as he blessed these special creatures with his power, willing them to remember him even though he would soon be gone, and to remember him with kindness.
Would he die? What would it feel like to die?
Before he could change his mind, he evaporated in a huge explosion of energy that swept the land and filled every animal he had created with life. The river evaporated with him. We can still see him every time we look toward the sky; he finally achieved his dream of escaping this world and now shines as the sun and the moon, resting peacefully beside his river of stars. Some see his ultimate sacrifice as tragic -- our Creator, eternally alone -- but I don’t agree. I am an old Absconding Canine that has inherited his power in my ability to see through time and jump through space, and I know that when I lie down beside the Dried River Bed tonight and close my eyes, I will be joining him. Like him, I will be giving my life so that others may live, following in his footsteps to finally meet him.
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Embers
Administrator
Posts: 18
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Post by Embers on Jun 9, 2013 20:46:28 GMT -5
CREATION & AFTERWARDS by AlehuePronunciation key Calliope – Cal – ee – oh – pay Eon – Ee – in Eona – Ee – oh – nah Alumina – Al – ooh – mee – nah Hadrian – Hay – dree – in Alouette – Ah – loo – et – ah Colombe – Coh – lum – bay Aigle – Ay – gluh Alethropes – Ah – lay – throwps Before there was a concept of thought, the concept of belief, the concept of a world, there was Calliope. She was the goddess of light, and she was the goddess of darkness. She was all powerful, but she felt no need to create anything. The nothingness that she lived in was bliss. It was only when darkness overcame light within the goddess that something happened that changed the fate of existence. The darkness in Calliope broke itself away from the light. The darkness called itself Eon, and the light called itself Eona. There was never again a single goddess; Calliope ceased to exist. The two new deities, Eon a god and Eona a goddess, were, despite their conflicting natures, cooperative. They worked to do something more than Calliope ever had – they worked to create a new world, something to entertain themselves with, for without a purpose, a deity is nothing. They rafted their world carefully, bringing only what they needed to not waste the precious energy that was their existence. Though their world was small to them, it would be vast to the beings they planned to create; exploring their world would take a lifetime, if one was not devoted to it. After they had crafted their world, bringing it forth from nothingness, they created their servants; Eon created a servant in his own image, and Eona in hers. Eon’s servant was built stockily, with long, shaggy fur, broad shoulders, a broad ribcage, and an amiable personality. Eon called him Hadrian, and he called his species the canines. Eona created a servant that was long and lithe, thinly muscled, but wiry and able to endure the harsh climate she and Eon had crafted. Eona called her Alumina, and called her species the felines. Their servants were the gods’ most prized possession, so each deity crafted them carefully – they were the epitome of their creation, the thing they were most proud of in their lives. Each one was beautiful – Hadrian was strong, dark and handsome, and Alumina was intelligent, light and pretty. They were assigned as the gods’ messengers between the heavens above and the earth below and they were perfect. The goddess Calliope had previously created a world similar to their own, which had quickly fallen into ruins because there were too many inhabitants. Eon and Eona desperately did not want this to happen to their precious, but fragile, civilization, and spent countless years trying to figure out how they could remedy this situation. As the god and goddess discussed, Alumina and Hadrian ran around the world, shaping it further. As the servants of the all-knowing, they knew that they could not stop, for the wrath of Eon and Eona was great as their tempers grew shorter. Hadrian soon became angry at his endless work – though he could go on like this forever, he did not wish to. Hadrian soon became angry and bitter, and became somewhat like a fallen angel; his duty was no longer to please Eon, but rather to displease him as much as he possibly could. The falling of his servant threw Eon into such grief that he soon took ill. The god of darkness only had one weakness; darkness itself. Hadrian polluted the world with so much darkness, and Eon soon died, leaving Eona to her own grief. Only the knowledge that she had something to complete kept Eona from falling into the same deep despair that Eon did. The burial of Eon occurred underneath the first tree that was created on their world. That gave Eona a new idea – she would have trees carry new life into the world. While Eona busily hand-crafted the first trees that she would plant to carry life into what was now only her world, her servant, Alumina, allowed herself time to grieve for her fallen friend, Hadrian, and for the dead god, Eon. The female approached the goddess Eona with a plan that would allow Eon and Hadrian to be remembered by the natives; she asked the goddess for a small amount of power, and when she was granted it, Alumina created two moons, one that was huge, and painted red, as Hadrian had been, and another a little smaller, subtle hues of purple sparkling across its silvery surface, as Eon’s eyes had been. Eon and Hadrian travelled across the sky together, hand in hand – the faithful servant moon never leaving its master. Alumina also created a moon for Calliope, the first goddess. It was tiny, but bright, as Calliope’s hope had been. When she was done creating these moons, Alumina’s grief had subsided, because she knew that Hadrian and Eon would never be forgotten. When Eona planted the first tree she created on the earth she had molded with Eon, she was delighted to see that it soon produced three new inhabitants of the planet; two were in her own image, and one was in Eon’s. She gave them each a name; the first was Alouette, the second was Colombe, and the third was Aigle. They were told they had free reign over this world, but had to come back once a week to the tree where they had been born, and slumber beneath it to produce more inhabitants. Alouette, Colombe, and Aigle were obedient; though they went to the far stretches of the world, but they always found a way to come back to the tree they were borne from. Eona noticed that they were canine and felines trying to produce a child, but instead of creating a mix of the two, laziness inspired her to randomize which species would be born. As a reward for their service, the two felines and single canine were given the gift of teleportation. They could will themselves to anyplace on the earth, and still be able to come back to the tree in an instant, instead of having to make the laborious journey back through where they came; it was in this way that the Absconding were born. Though Eona was happy with the inhabitants of her world, she felt they had forgotten her, the goddess that made them. Instead of pushing them to worship her, Eona crafted another moon to accompany Hadrian, Eon, and Calliope in the sky. The moon of the goddess of light was not as large as Hadrian’s or Eon’s, and not as bright as Calliope’s, but still beautiful. Every color imaginable shimmered across its surface as one looked at it, which made up for its size and dullness. The animals on the earth could no longer forget the goddess who made them, for how can one forget a moon? For years, all was well – the earth that Eon and Eona made was vast, and the canines and felines were happy on it; they had enough food, water, shelter, and companionship. After a while, though, those that had explored the whole earth soon found their explorations lackluster; there were some places that they could not access, no matter how hard they tried. Eona granted them with a special evolution; they grew bigger, their fur shaggier and hardier, and they were able to access more extreme climates, though those that were turned into this new beast grew a sudden aversion to water – though they still needed it to survive, they did not need it nearly as often or such copious amounts of it. Eona soon realized that she could not sit there forever, hand selecting who would be chosen to move up to this new species of sorts. Instead, she granted the power to Alethrops, the first traveler that she had given the gift to, and told him to only give it to those who had enough experience in life to bear the new evolution with pride and respect. Alethrops was dutiful, so, to keep up with precedent, Eona created a new moon to honor him. It sped around the world she had created faster than the rest of the moons, and was petite in structure, like Alethrops himself. She colored it a light blue, the same color as Alethrops’ eyes. Though the sky now held five moons, it was not crowded, and for that, Eona was glad. When she created a moon for Alethrops, she realized that she had not yet honored her humble servant, Alumina, with a moon of her own. Alumina’s moon was a bright white, and perfectly round, with no crated to pockmark its beautiful surface. When Eona was done with the creation of these two moons, she felt that there was enough in the sky, and though there were many notable canines and felines on the world, she vowed to not create any more moons. But Eona was growing old, even in immortal terms. She had lived to see many generations cycle through her earth; the first three that had been born were just glimmers in the eyes of those who still believed, long gone ancestors whose tales were no longer important. They did not learn that obedience would pay off for them, as it did for Alouette, Colombe, and Aigle. Eona was not pleased that they had forgotten her and her lessons, but she did not want to hurt the inhabitants of the earth she had most carefully tended to. Instead of making an immediate decision, she called on her faithful servant, Alumina, and the two hatched a plot. Eona would fall asleep for a thousand years. Over this time span, Alumina would go across the earth, granting small gifts to the inhabitants to (hopefully) make them believe again in the goddess who created them. If, at the end of a thousand years, Eona was still not remembered, the goddess would create a plague to kill those who did not believe – those that did would be spared, but at the cost of their friends’ and families’ lives. It was only the fact that this was a sad necessity that Eona and Alumina agreed to the plan. Eona fell asleep. Is she still asleep? That is the question that those who believe continue asking themselves, for once Eona awakes, her benevolence may have turned into malignance. The goddess of light may have turned dark. Only time will tell…
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Embers
Administrator
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Post by Embers on Jun 9, 2013 20:50:23 GMT -5
LEGEND by MeeshThere was once a male canine named Nero, and a female feline named Olivia. They loved eachother very much, but as they were of different species, they could not have a child.
One day, they prayed to the gods, begging for this one blessing to be granted them, and soon they both gre very sleepy. They collapsed under the oldest tree in the Orchard, and when they awoke, a pod had sprouted on the highest branch.
Many months passed, however, and soon it was despaired that the podling had fallen ill, and perhaps would never be hatched at all. The pod was soon forgotten, and the careful watch that had been placed over it grew to be neglected until only the two remained to watch over it. They remained by the tree constantly for day and night.
One warm summer's day, the pod fell and cracked apart. Out of it crawled possibly the smallest creature Nero and Olivia had ever seen. When she uncurled, they were surprised by her form- the head of a canine and body of a feline. In fact, she seemed a perfect mix of both species!
Her name was Hope, she said, and she was albino- not just white, but completely lacking in any color except for her light pink eyes. She was also tiny, very tiny, and when others in the orchard saw her, they sneered, saying that Hope wouldn't live long enough to even leave the Orchard.
But Nero and Olivia loved their child very much and cared for her, though she grew much more slowly than other podlings. And so Hope lived a happy life, loved and cared her for by her parents, despite the scorn doled upon her by the other canines and felines. Eventually it came time for Hope to leave the Orchard, and after bidding her parents a fond farewell, the little mixed-breed went off into the world.
The first place she arrived was at the River Garden, then just called the River. Hope was so enchanted by the little River's beauty that she drew from her coat three tufts of fur. Since this was back in the Ancient days when creatures could shape their surroundings as easily as a podling takes their first breath, the fur tufts spread roots and grew beautiful blossoms.
Hope was delighted by this and soon went around planting flowers wherever she went. But because of her white fur, only white flowers grew from the tufts of fur that she dropped. It didn't matter though, because of the great beauty of these flowers. Hope loved them all.
Soon, the other canines and felines began to grow jealous of Hope's flowers. They tried to drop their own fur and turn them into flowers, but the resulting plants, no matter how beautiful, could not match the pure, unrivaled beauty of Hope's blooms. It did not take long for their jealousy to grow into hatred.
Their hatred grew so intense, however, that one day, a young calico colored male feline named Edna, decided that Hope must not be allowed to create such beautiful flowers. He, along with a large group of canines and felines, surrounded Hope, demanding that she never grew flowers again. Only Nero and Olivia stood with her, pleading with Edna to let their daughter be. Hope could not live without her beautiful flowers, and would never stop making him.
But Edna refused. In a rage, he ordered the other canines and felines to rip up all the surrounding white flowers in the area. Hope was devastated by the loss of the beautiful life she had so carefully nurtured, but she would not retaliate against her fellow canines and felines. Instead, she simply gave a sad smile and walked away, dropping more flowers as she walked.
But Edna would have none of this. With one leap, he bounded forward and slew Hope where she stood.
At this, the Gods finally took notice. They had loved Hope and the beauty she had called into the world, and had long since forbidden any fighting or killing between any two of the creatures they had created. In their anger, they threw a bolt of lightning from the sky, killing Edna, and forbidding his calico coloring to ever appear on a male feline again. Their anger only grew, however, and lightning storms boiled in the sky as they threatened to kill every canine and feline for their part in this treachery.
Olivia and Nero stepped forward, begging the gods to stop. They pleaded that they had loved Hope more than anyone else, and that she would never had wanted to be avenged in such a manner. Finally, the gods relented, and instead of shooting the lightning storm into the mass of canines and felines, they diffused it into the ground, creating a huge crack forevermore known as the Dried River Bed.
Greatful that the gods had saved the lives of the others, but still saddened by the loss of their daughter, Nero and Olivia lay by the shore of the Dried River bed, willing themselves to join their daughter in the afterlife. And so it was, and they disappeared, only to be replaced by two new trees in the Orchard.
And the gods were so inspired by the acts of love that they called back all of Hope's flowers, lining the entire world with them. There were colors of every variety, but the most beutiful of all were the White flowers, Hope's flowers, and those remained in all their glory.
And so Hope's flowers remain here even today, and they symbolize the first mixed breed, Hope.
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