Prologue  -  Out of nothing!

 

            A vast emptiness spread out before Osar and his brother Qwentas. Neither could remember a time when they came to be, nor could they remember a time when they were not. They just were. For immeasurable eons, the two formless entities drifted through the cosmos, suspended in the vastness of nothing. Just the two of them enjoying the endless universe, and they were happy. They passed by innumerable star systems and all manner of fantastic cosmic displays, ranging from massively bright supernovae to mysterious black hole vortexes.

            All was good.

            However, regardless of all the boundless time they shared, the two had only traversed a mere fraction of the immenseness of the universe. Despite all they had witnessed, sights beyond imagining, none of it had been able to hold their attention. As time drew on, they grew weary and despondent. Eon after eon; was this all there was to see and do… an endless field of twinkling lights and very little else? Hope began to fade that nothing would ever be new for them again, until one day, they stopped and saw a strange, small orb circling one of the twinkling lights. This one orb seemed different to them than the countless orbs they had passed before. Not just a plain ball of rock, a massive chunk of ice or a swirling gaseous giant. Rather, it had a thin, hard layer that had cooled, trapping in its molten core. Above that dense, hardened surface, a fragile layer of gas had formed, holding in place various layers of gases below it. It was unique to their travels, and so they drew closer. They discovered a seething, undulating liquid that covered a large portion of the cooled rock, and found themselves transfixed by its power and beauty as it endlessly flowed around the strange little orb. This oddness piqued their curiosity, and finally, for once in so long a time, they decided to stop and investigate the peculiar little orb more closely.

            Both cosmic brothers wanted to interact with this odd place, unsatisfied with merely hovering around it, and for the very first time, they drew in their immense power and took solid form so as to move about and interact with this orb. They would experience it in a new and exciting manner, unlike anything they had ever done before.

            Osar was the first, and he was magnificent. He became something new and wondrous, never before seen in all the cosmos. He had thought long and hard about his new form, and it had everything he felt would be needed to interact with this place. Long, thick limbs with small platforms on their ends to walk upon the solid ground. Smaller jointed limbs with multiple small digits at their end, so he could touch and pick up the cooled dirt and rocks. There was a common trunk that held these parts together. Upon this trunk, he placed his mind within a remarkable facet that had, within it, all he would need to see, hear, smell, and taste the things this strange orb had to offer. He covered this top facet with long, flowing golden hair to help keep the elements of this peculiar orb at bay. Oddly, he loved the way the strong winds moved his hair, wildly flapping it about behind him as they rushed on by. He was indeed a sight to behold. Unlike anything they had come across during their endless travels. 

            Qwentas marvelled at his brother's new look. He wanted to join him upon the orb, but he was not as successful in his attempts to take form. He tried to emulate his brother’s glory but ended up grossly distorted. He had an extra arm, deemed to be excessive and unnecessary. He had hard, misshapen feet that tore up the soft ground as he passed over it. Upon his top facet, he had one too many eyes than Osar had deemed required, and upon this facet were two hard bones that curved down, nearly blocking the vision of his eyes. Even though they could float anywhere they needed to by using their vast power, Qwentas had added long, strange appendages stretching outwards upon his back. They caught the winds swirling around the orb, causing him to glide clumsily above it.

            No, Qwentas was not as lovely an image as that cast by his brother, and this saddened him. Osar told him not to be bothered with his sadness. He was just as wonderful to him in this form as any other they had seen. He told Qwentas to be proud of how he looked. There were no other beings like him in all the cosmos. It was his uniqueness that made him special, and he loved him no matter what. The two brothers were content to wander this wondrous place for many Ages. 

            All was good.

            In time, their strange little orb’s newness began to wane, so they used their immense power to breathe new life into it. They created all manner of plants and trees to cover the barren rocks and sands. Great fields of flowing green spread forth, and a multitude of colourful flowers sprang up from those fields of green. Then they filled the great swirling liquid with colourful plants and living, breathing stones. This new look they had established pleased them immensely, so they basked in its glory again in solitude for hundreds of millennia, watching their new creations interact and enjoy their tiny orb.

            All was good.

            This paradise they walked among was unrivalled in the cosmos, yet it was still missing something. The ancient brothers were lonely. They had been alone, just the two of them, for longer than they could have imagined, and the thought of sharing this glorious place with someone was ideal. So, they brought forth small portions of their vast power and split them off, creating smaller, paler versions of themselves. Once again, Osar was wonderful at this. He created several of these new children in his image and gave them names. He called them the lesser gods. They called him Father. Six of these lesser gods did he create. Bazlin, Orthanel, Jaskier, Monatelle, Varandiel and Hormanus. And they were glorious. All unique to themselves, but just as beautiful as their father.

            Qwentas, not to be outdone, gave of himself to make his own lesser gods. Once again, he was unsuccessful in his attempts. His children, Gnavara, Braxious, Tacellen, and Hopptus, were like their father… all misshapen and wholly unique. They were not lovely like the children of Osar, but he loved them no less. The sons and daughters of Osar treated them with no hint of disdain, as their father loved Qwentas despite his appearance, so did they, his children. They were one big happy family sharing their love in a fantastic paradise.

            All was good.

            Life like this went on for many a millennium. In time, the children of Osar and Qwentas created life of their own to please their fathers and add to the beauty of the paradise. The lesser Gods made all manner of strange creatures to roam the lands, fly upon the sky, or swim within the great liquid. The paradise was now full of life, and Osar and Qwentas rejoiced.

            These creatures turned out to be fascinating. They developed a cycle of life and death, hunter and hunted, that kept the checks and balances for continued growth and prosperity for all. The orb thrived like this, for ages, in a perfect, delicate balance. The two Fathers were pleased with the additions their children had brought forth.

            All was good.

            More millennia passed, and the two Godly brothers grew complacent once more. They still thought this world to be empty. It needed to be enjoyed to its fullest by more than just the creatures their children had created. They sought to add life more akin to themselves and their children to share this paradise with, something lesser than their children but more remarkable than the smaller beasts that roamed the lands. Osar made what he called the First Men. He breathed an infinitesimally small fraction of his essence into enormous titans. They were similar to his children, both male and female, but he had erred in his designs as the great giants towered over the trees and the small animals living within. These First Men could use some of the vast power that had breathed them into existence, not on a scale as Osar or the lesser gods, but they could shape their world by will, using that innate power. Osar and his brother were fascinated by watching these great men and women learn to use all that was contained within the paradise that they needed to live off of. Unlike the animals his children had created, the First Men did not merely settle into a symbiotic relationship with the paradise but instead sought to dominate and manipulate it, to bend the world to their needs and whims. This new wrinkle certainly piqued the interest of the many gods as they watched it unfold.

            Not to be outdone, Qwentas created a race that was more in tune with his own image. But failure in these endeavours was in his nature. The beings he made did not walk upon two feet as did the giants. Rather, these massive beasts scrambled around on four powerful, clawed limbs with long bodies, long necks, and serpentine tails. They sprouted great wings much akin to Qwentas’s own, and as he had born them of fire, they too were its master. Dragons, he named them…the Great Wyrms. As with the First Men, these Dragons could also tap into the power their father had used to create them. The Gods’ two newest creations changed the way their paradise would be for many millennia to come, making it far more entertaining and unpredictable.

            All was good.

            These two magnificent creations thrived on the orb, and both were long-lived, but they did not spread out and multiply as the two gods had planned. Luckily so, as their sheer size would have been too much for the small orb to support had they multiplied as Osar and Qwentas had anticipated.

            Hoping for a better result, Osar once again created life. Insatiable was his yearning to share the paradise with as many beings as possible. This time, he used so little of his essence that those he created were diminutive and frail. They could not use any of the godly power within them as their larger predecessors could. Only a handful of these new creations would manage, in time, to learn how to tap into that power, but they were rare cases indeed. He called his latest children… Humans. They were a fragile young race, neither exceptionally durable nor ready to withstand the elements that the paradise often presented, and so they struggled to adapt to the world they were brought into. The many dangers within the paradise plagued his new children, but despite this, they persevered and were innovative, and soon, they began to thrive. In time, the Humans mastered the elements and the simple beasts that dwelled within their lands, and much to Osar’s delight, they multiplied. Osar had placed his humans across many parts of the orb, and they learned to speak to one another in many tongues. He found that when his children from far-off regions came into contact with one another, they had difficulty communicating, so he gave to them a common language that they could better understand each other. Osar had made a great variety of humans, and in time, they moved about the orb, mixing with one another, and soon all the tribes of men were represented in every corner of the orb. Living in peace and harmony with one another. He was sure, if given time, they would be able to fill and enjoy all the orb had to offer.

            Seeing this, Qwentas, not wanting to be outdone once again, also tried to make a smaller race of his own. One to rival that of his brother’s newest children. Many times, he tried and failed to do this with varying degrees of success. The goblins, he made first. They multiplied as he hoped, but they were small and not nearly as strong as he needed them to be. Then he made the dwarves; they were stronger but still not very tall, and they struggled to multiply. Next came the Orcs, who had all the attributes he wanted. Both strong and large. They multiplied, almost out of control, but were unruly and could not live peacefully with each other, nor with his other children, or the
humans. So, they would not thrive. Time and time again, Qwentas tried and failed: trolls, ogres, and so on, all with flaws that held them back. All the races Qwentas made would not thrive as Osar’s humans had. They were all stronger and better able to face the dangers of the paradise, and many could tap into the godly powers given to them by their father, but they could not get along. They fought with one another, and then they fought with Osar’s humans. Osar was not pleased with this and implored his brother to rein in his creations. With great trepidation, though he loved them so, despite their faults, Qwentas abandoned his newest children as they continued to fight amongst themselves, never reaching the great heights that Osar’s humans had.

            Qwentas tried one final time. He was so envious of his brother, and he had to get one proper creation. He poured all his heart into his final attempt. The Alves, and they were perfect in every way. Qwentas was filled with love and pride for them, just as Osar was with his humans. Unlike the Humans, the Alves could use the godly powers within them, and they were ever so graceful and tall. They were longer-lived and wise and could multiply just as Osar’s children could. They outmatched the humans in every way. Qwentas loved them most of all… his final glorious achievement. Both the Humans and the Alves grew and thrived, dominating the lesser races of Qwentas’s earlier failures.

            All was good… for a time.

            It would seem that all great things cannot last forever. The lesser gods began to grow weary of their father’s new creations. Some felt they needed more guidance than their fathers were doling out, while others were jealous of the love and attention paid to what they deemed as lesser beings, and so they started to influence them… some in positive ways, others not so much. Osar’s children tried to teach his humans about love and peace. They tried to show them how to live within their means and how to tend to the paradise and its smaller creations. Qwentas’ children, however, grew bored of all of this and started to set the smaller races upon one another. They whispered in their ears to behave in a manner that was not for the good of the paradise but merely for the good of the individual. They preached greed, lust, and jealousy. In time, many of the lesser races that Qwentas had created banded together, driven by desperation and poor influence, and they attacked his beloved Alves. He did not know what to do and asked Osar, his wise and loving brother, for his help. Osar was not interested in the plight of the Alves. He was so taken with helping his humans thrive and had no time or care for the children of Qwentas. So, the Alves suffered greatly. Eventually, with great effort and sacrifice, they were able to fend off the lesser races, fighting them to a standstill. But they were decimated and had lost most of their lands. What few remained lived alone, isolated upon a large island. They needed more room to thrive, and so they headed to the lands occupied by humankind. But the humans did not want to share their lands with the Alves, and the greatest war of these dark times ensued when these two great creations came to blows.

            As the Alves were longer-lived, taller, and stronger, and as they had an inherent ability to access the power of the gods that flowed through their blood, they soon brought the humans under heel. They were on the verge of wiping out Osar’s beloved children altogether. Now, it was Osar’s turn to plead with his brother to help stop the fighting. Qwentas turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to his brother. And so, the Humans suffered. Osar could not allow his greatest love to perish, so he panicked and used his vast powers to smite the Alves’ homeland. In his haste to save his humans, he wiped out the Alves entirely.

            Qwentas’ grief was inconsolable. During this time, all the lesser Gods, the first children of the two Father Gods, had been taking sides with one or the other. They began to fight each other, hoping to curry favour with their chosen Father. The war of the Gods began. Very few survived this devastating time. Clusters of the great Dragons and handfuls of the mighty Giants survived, but only small packs of the lesser races remained. Most died as collateral damage when the lesser Gods clashed. All ten of the godly children of Osar and Qwentas perished in this great war.

            After losing his beloved Alves and then all of his godly children, Qwentas’s grief knew no limits. His rage built within him, and he grew to massive proportions. His anger and hatred of Osar fuelled him so. He would wipe out the humans that Osar so loved, and then he, too, would know the significant loss Qwentas felt.

            Osar, seeing this, drew on his own strength and called upon the love of his children to bolster his strength. He, in turn, grew to an immense size.

            The two Gods met in combat, one on either side of a massive mountain range. The powerful Gods manifested massive weapons akin to those their children had used to smite each other for many generations. They fought each other to a near standstill for days, but Osar was fighting to save his beloved humans. He could not fail. He saw an opening in Qwentas’s defences and stuck with all his might. He sank his sword deep into his brother’s body and cut his chest wide open. There, Osar reached in and pulled out his brother's beating heart, the heart of a God. Qwentas dropped his massive sword, cleaving one part of the great mountain in half before the blade dissipated… releasing its energy back into the cosmos.

            Osar flung the beating heart deep into the forest on the mountain’s eastern side, where it landed on a small island in the middle of a great lake. The heart sank into the ground, and a massive tree sprang from that spot, towering over the rest of the forest. It radiated a soft green glow as the very essence of God’s heart slowly released through this great tree’s branches and leaves.

            Osar caught his brother in his arms. He looked with tear-filled eyes into Qwentas’ own as the light within them began to fade.

            “I love you, Brother!” he said the final words to his dying brother.

            What had he done? How could it have come to this? Osar wailed in agony as Qwentas’ light faded away, and his body rejoined the cosmos. Osar looked around at what was left of their once magnificent paradise. All he could see now was a land decimated by war. Torn asunder and diminished. Most of the lesser races were all but extinct. Even his precious man had but a smattering of small tribes remaining. Everywhere he looked, he saw his brother and the ghosts of their children or their smaller creations. All of the joy and love was gone. They had failed, and he could no longer look upon these lands. To do so filled him with a grief he could not reconcile.

            Osar once again entered the great void, leaving behind their creation to evolve as best it could without interference. He let go of his form and drifted once again. He would travel the cosmos alone for the first time. Osar hoped with all his heart that he would one day come across another orb similar to the one he and his brother had found together so long ago; there, he would try again. One last attempt for his humankind. Hopefully, this time, he would get it right.

            All was… uncertain.