the Mythologia Elyden - Part 3 (Patreon)

Part 2

“...And the Brethren looked back and they saw then the womb from which had crawled their Forefathers / so many aeons ago, before life was life and thought was thought. They saw their Father, the maker of / all, he who slumbers. What they saw was all and nought and it shook their dreams with darkness / unabashed and light unrivalled. A maelstrom of realisation had been open to them and they knew the / wrong of their ways, the complete and utter foolishness of their overbearing pride and arrogance at / even thinking they could understand their own purpose. The dream of their conception had been / grand, a magnificent climax to the story of creation, but what emerged from the seeds was something / quite different to that – they were mortals, no more than beasts with thought. They were cursed by the / very forces that had created them to be no more than a speck of their potential.”

The Mythologia Elyden. 4: 13–21

The Children of The Shaper, tireless Demiurges that they were, continued to shape the Material Plane, creating new Orbs of Life as they continued adding to the masterpiece that was Elyden.

Like all works of art where matter is shaped into something greater, the Demiurges did not always agree on what was perfection – they each had their vision of beauty and each had their own passions, not all of which sat harmlessly besides those of their siblings. And so, united in their goal, yet disparate in their methods and means, the Demiurges toiled, fashioning the Orbs with thoughts and dreams; every strike, every stroke, every mould done so with love and care. The Demiurges left their mark on all the Orbs, most working singularly on each Orbs, yet each bestowed an equal part of their emotion upon the Orb that was called Elyden. Elyden was to become a rose in a field of dandelions, the greatest of the Orbs, the pinnacle of perfection that The Shaper would measure all else against. Elyden would be, in time, a haven to the Immortal peoples to be born from the Seeds of Dusk.

Their task complete, the Demiurges saw what they had shaped and were pleased.

And they spoke as one, their voice carrying throughout the Material, rumbling across the Orbs of Life as thunder echoes across the heavens, “It is done. Perfection is achieved in the Material. Now we wait for The Shaper to bring life to our love.”

And so they ceased their work, but empowered by the beauty of what they had created, the Demiurges had not the heart to leave their artifice behind. As is the manner with all works of art, the Demiurges looked upon the Material and saw imperfections where none existed. Like an artist who tinkers with a long-since finished masterpiece, sullying their original work.

Each toiled to make Elyden a place filled with their own vision of perfection, they clashed with one another, spoiling what others had already created. This spoiling of Elyden created a discord within the Material Plane that would forevermore mar the face of the Orb. Though not as discordant as was the Sea of Chaos before it, this new Elyden was a place of both light and darkness, chaos and order and timelessness and death – a true child of the Material.

So it was that Elyden was created, a world of Light and Darkness and in that light and darkness, spurred on by the discord, the Seeds of Dawn sown by The Shaper hatched before their time, bringing forth premature creatures into a world not yet ready for them.

Elyden was then not as she is now – no mountains, no oceans, no creatures, no skies, no-thing that our pitiful senses can comprehend did yet exist. And into this world of incomprehensible facets did the first immortals appear.

Their senses were not like those of the Demiurges, which had been created directly by The Shaper through manipulation of the Sea of Chaos and its two constituents. They were intended to gestate in their seeds until The Shaper deemed it fit that they be born, once the perfection wrought by the Demiurges has settled for long enough for them to emerge. Instead, the immortals were born early, like a babe ejected prematurely from its mothers’ womb, unable to comprehend the world it was brought into. They could not understand the world around them, they could not understand themselves. They saw not what the Demiurges saw and felt not the emotions though ought to have at their intended creation.

Seven-times-Two-and-Twenty immortals were born into a world not ready for them, and they despaired at the rape of their senses. Despairing, their mind aflame with sensations that should never be felt, the immortals were weakened into beings of limited life and scope. They were immortal in nought but name, indeed, they were mortal.

The Shaper stirred in the Sea of Chaos and was angry at its Children. Its dream of a perfect existence was shattered with the overwork of the Demiurges. Not only was Elyden ruined, marred forever of the perfect realm it had dreamt of, but the immortals had been brought unwanted into that world, their delicate bodies, their frail minds, still embryonic in their simplicity, subjected to the horrors of surroundings they could not grasp.

In its Wisdom, The Shaper knew that what had happened had happened and could not be reversed. But the mortals were innocent in the matter of their birth and were not deserving of any punishment. Upon each of the mortals, The Shaper imparted a mote of its own divinity and emotion, to shield them from the unready world they had been born into, allowing them to see and hear and smell and touch and feel the Material Plane.

This mote, The Shaper called the spirit, and it was its gift to the mortals.

With a spirit and senses capable of observing and experiencing the world around them, the mortals were strengthened, but for all of The Shaper’s providence, they could not escape the death and disorder that their birth had subjected them to – forevermore the mortals would be plagued by the shadow of death and cursed by the weight of disorder.

Each of the Two-and-Twenty pod became a tribe of mortals – four females, three males – their minds and bodies shaped in the manner of the Demiurge in whose image they had been unwittingly fashioned, added to which was the divine spark that The Shaper had imparted upon them. They knew death, the knew disorder, but they knew too of love and all the emotions the Demiurges held sacred and had themselves imparted upon the Material Plane and Elyden.

And so, the Children came to be in a world that was not yet ready for them, to parents that did not want or care for them.

“...On the Island of Creation they toiled, giving love and thought into that which they cared for most. / Around seven seas did the Two-and-Twenty tribes grow, and around nine mountains did they / thrive, a sickly pall hanging over their temples. With hammer and scythe did the mortals battle the beast / and win. With hammer and scythe did the Two-and-Twenty battle the beast and loose. And so Began / the downfall of the Sphere Elyden and all those who called her once beauteous lands home.”

The Mythologia Elyden. 5: 13 – 17

The Shaper wanted its Two-and-Twenty Children to be exemplars to its later creations, the seeds that would hatch into Immortals. In anger The Shaper sent the Demiurges down to Elyden, and stripped them of their greatest powers of shaping, where it made them continue their task in shaping Elyden, while watching over the mortals.

The Siblings unwillingly became the leaders of the Two-and-Twenty mortal tribes and slowly led their charges along the path that suited each the best. Some of the Demiurges learnt to adapt to this new life, while others revelled in the new experiences that life amongst the mortals brought them. Some, however, were greatly pained by what The Shaper had done, or, perhaps more importantly, by what they had done to deserve such a punishment.

Much to The Shaper’s anger, many of them came to be worshipped as living gods, and in the false glow of their followers, the Demiurges began to grow distant from their father. By sending the Demiurges to Elyden, The Shaper was trying to right the wrongs perpetrated by its Children. Instead it had martyred them in the eyes of the mortals, who looked upon them as their creators, ignorant as to the existence of The Shaper, who was too distant, dwelling beyond the Material Plane. Even with its gift of the spirit, its existence still lay beyond the scope of mortal minds to comprehend.

Even if The Shaper revealed itself to them, they would dispute its dominion over the Demiurges. But, if they all truly understood  and knew of its being, would that not undermine the beauty of their emotion, of their free existence? It would be more credit to the mortals to question and feel and savour, rather than accept and be apathetic in the knowledge of the Cosmogony, so, in its wisdom, The Shaper allowed the Demiurges to rule over the mortals, unquestionably confident that it was their true father. In time, the Demiurges would divulge the Mortals’ true birthright.

Though semi-divine beings, now that they were trapped in the world of their own devising, the Demiurges realised that their influence had lessened. Yet they were still driven by their father’s command to shape the Material Plane, and with Elyden their only canvas, they continued in their work while leading their tribes. While their powers of craft were diminished following their fall, they were still Demiurges and it was no wonder the Mortals looked upon them as gods, for their abilities were still great. The emotions that had gone into their original shaping of Elyden was applied doubly to their new shaping and their responsibilities of leadership.

Over time their tribes grew into fledgling nations, though as their cultures developed around their Demiurge protectors, they found themselves becoming more dissimilar from each other even as their individual lands spread and they explored their world.

And so, the Demiurges too grew separately and differently from one another, each coming to embody their own feelings, with their tribes coming to mirror their own attitudes and demeanours.

The Demiurges had been left greatly weakened by their fussing over Elyden and The Shapers’ punishment. It had been a labour of love, every second spent crafting Elyden in their image draining that much of what made them the Children of The Shaper, bringing them that much closer to the Mortals they were now bequeathed to serve and guide.

Their Great Work left them weak, their light greatly diminished, yet they remained gods amongst Mortals.

Despite their fall from grace, the Demiurges remained powerful beings who commanded great respect from the Mortals they now led. It was through the unyielding beliefs of their followers that the Demiurges came to draw sustenance. As in an age long past, where they ‘fed’ on the joy of seeing Elyden shaped in their image, the Demiurges now came to feed on the adulation of the mortals. This restored some of their strength, but they were still shadows of their former selves.

The Demiurges came to realise that they would become weaker as the number of individuals in their tribes lessened. The opposite also held true, but only the true faithful mattered to the Demiurges – those of false persuasions or empty boasts held no power for them and were ignored. The Demiurges knew that their siblings would be trying to draw power, and, whatever the reason, each secretly desired to become more powerful than the other.

And so, the Demiurges shaped their lands to better suit the needs of their charges and promoted growth. The centuries following the Demiurges’ banishing were characterised by an incessant growth amongst the Mortal tribes. As the Mortals increased in number and power, so too did the Demiurges’ power wax. Yet, however much they tried, they knew they would never return to what they had once been, but they still strove to return to it.

To varying degrees, the Two-and-Twenty toiled long and hard trying desperately to reforge their link with The Shaper – some out of love of their father, others out of severance with their divinity. Some, such as Vorropohaiah, Nergaal, Ialdabaoth and Nyarloth, came to fear death so much that they devoted the rest of their Material-bound life to ensuring everlasting life, and cared little for their followers outside of their influence in this matter. Some, such as Allaishada, Duruthilhote, Avraham and Urakarabarmeel, saw the value of true followers and devoted their time and energies to ensuring that the followers they had were treated well, instilling a sense of loyalty. Others, amongst them Rachanael, Ashterath, Baphomet and Malachai, became consumed by the number of followers they could attract, doing whatever was in their power to increase their numbers.

Throughout this time, the tribes and their lands remained consigned to a small part of the Orb Elyden which hung suspended within the Material Plane. This land became known as the Island of Creation and is the ancestral home of all sentient Material-bound peoples of Elyden. All Mortal tribes originated here, and the first pages of the Two-and-Twenty Mortal peoples’ histories were penned here. From the Island of Creation come many great stories of origin, beginnings and adaptation, some exclusive to certain tribes, others universal amongst intelligent life in Elyden.

During this time of growth, the tribes were relatively close with each other. Trade was not unheard of, and while there were no enmities between tribes, there were fewer close friendships and alliances. The Demiurges had never been particularly close, save for a few outliers, for the act of Shaping the Material Plane and the Orbs of Life was exhaustive and their love of their work allowed little time for acquainting themselves with one another. This status quo changed little after their fall, though the reasons were different. There was no open hostility, but there was little need for close friendship, either.

And so the Mortal tribes and their Demiurge rulers grew within the hub of life called the Island of Creation.

The mortals pondered their very existence, and unlike those who came after them, they had a link with their origins – the Demiurges. They asked of the Demiurges the roots to their life, and they were given their reply. It was a reply that, in most cases, did not mention The Shaper.

None can know what caused almost all of the Demiurges to neglect the true story of creation as they did. The memory of The Shaper was not one easily discarded, but still, the sundering of child from parent had been a traumatic event. It had happened in a timeless realm, the gulf of which can not be comprehensible to mortals. Time, and the mind of one so hurt, can do many things to aid disremembrance. Penance. Spite. Despair. All these things and more could cause the void in their retelling of their creation through the dreams of The Shaper.

And so the mortals learnt not of The Shaper.

This blatant negligence angered The Shaper, who came to realise that few amongst his Children, and even fewer amongst the unfortunate mortals would ever live up to its image of a future perfection. The Shaper lost hope in those who forsook him, but still could not blame the mortals for their ignorance. It castigated the Demiurges by withdrawing from Elyden, severing the divine link that had always existed between parent and siblings. If to be shorn of its touch was their will, then The Shaper would acquiesce.

The Two-and-Twenty, who had many years before forsaken or forgotten The Shaper, felt its withdrawal like a man sundered from his soul. From that moment on, the divine spark that marked them as the Children of The Shaper was gone, extinguished forever. They remained Demiurges, powerful and superior to mortals as mortals were superior to insects,and yet they were not. Immediately, they felt shamed by what they had done, weak and foolish at the selfishness of their inaction.

Though how they processed this shame differed amongst the siblings. Some became wholly insular, falling prey to their own dark thoughts; while others strove to rekindle the rotted link with their parent. This created a great schism between the siblings, who had otherwise lived without great quarrel. Some realised that in order to survive, the tribes needed to unite, while others, bitter at The Shaper for forsaking them (seemingly forgetting that it was their own forsaking that had propagated its withdrawal), forgot the world and their duties and began plotting against the rest of Elyden and creating cruel incantations and hexes to secure yet more strength. Others fell into the deepest of despondency at their abandonment, turning inwards.

And so, the Demiurges were renounced by The Shaper.

Generations of mortals waxed and waned, dynasties rose and fell, empires flourished, struggled and died. Epochs passed the Demiurges at a scale of time that was akin to the cycle of seasons to mortals. Faith that to the mortals was seen as unwavering was viewed in a far less favourable light by the ailing Demiurges. In their unwanted emancipation from their father, the Demiurges felt a loosening of their grip on the mortals’ devotion. Though most mortals continued to  worship them as deities, the fervour with which they were once revered was starting to wane, the legend of their exploits and artifice diminished with their powers.

Some of the Two-and-Twenty were affected by this more than others, and as they felt their life-essence draining away, they looked to their more fortunate brethren, Allaishada and Rachanael the strongest amongst them, and their thoughts grew troubled.

These faltering Demiurges called a great conclave, a gathering of siblings unmatched until that time, where they discussed the inevitability of their waning. Uninvited, yet accepted, was Rachanael who had divined his siblings’ troubles. Where they offered questions and despaired anecdotes as to their doubtful futures, he proposed an answer: fear. He was strongest amongst those there gathered because he ruled over his tribe, the plagi, with fear, keeping their awe of him strong. Through that combination of emotions, and the balance wrought between them, was Rachanael able to keep their devotion true, and his strength high. If only the other Demiurges gave him the means, he could cloak Elyden in that same fear, bringing the other tribes to their knees, restoring the power of the Demiurges.

It was a dark day indeed that saw the Demiurges there gathered (fully half amongst the Two-and-Twenty) agree to that desperate plan, granting Rachanael a base strength unmatched.

And so did the campaigns of fear begin where the mortals of those despairing Demiurges were subjugated and enslaved to Rachanael’s whim, his promise of renewed strength hollow amidst his promises of victories and empire.

It was only when Allaishada, at the head of a great army of mortals assembled from the remaining tribes, cast the shackles created by Rachanael aside, returning the enslaved Mortal peoples to their rightful place in Elyden; and their tyrannical upstart Demiurge to his deserved rung in the Hierarchy of the Two-and-Twenty.

And so it was that the Demiurges were robbed of their divinity, their own pride tethering them further and further to the mortal world they sought so desperately to escape.

Part 4