Chaos... swirling sporadic energy, the first to exist, unable to resist the urge to move. To think. To be. Rushing forward, thrusting outwards, leaving bedlam and half formed thoughts in its wake.   Order... calmly flowing, it surfaced inside the Chaos. Taming the tide. Whispering softly. Nudging gently, it narrowed the focus, allowing stability in their co-existence.   Nothingness.   Their first Creation.   The base from which everything would sprout. Endless Worlds forming and collapsing, a continuous cycle at the root of all Life.   In the midst of the Nothing came Miltiades, our Maker, our Father.   In the Silence he stood, waiting. Searching the void for answers, and upon his wish stepped forth the Exziean.   The Elder, fur like Flame he presented himself. Bowed before the Maker he brought the gift Knowledge, but could not offer it.   And so Miltiades bestowed upon him Speech, and with the Word of the Maker he spoke, and Sound broke the Silence.   He summoned forth the Oracle. Like a Ghost he too stepped from the Nothing, bearing the gifts Wisdom and Insight.   Able to see all Possiblities, the Elder and the Oracle gave council to their Father.   With their guidence Miltiades turned to the void and Made the Stars, and to the Stars he gave Life.   Thus the Guardian of Substance turned upon the Maker with joy. The Great Serpant's eyes contained the vast sea of Light Miltiades had made.   Looking out at the near empty void the Maker was filled with sorrow, unable to fill the space alone.   The Exziean looked upon their Father with fondness, and offered the idea of Family.   And so Miltiades began making the Ancients, the highest of his Children, one after the other they came into existance along side their Father.   Each one more easily molded than the next as he perfected the craft. And unto them he bestowed the gift of Creation. The only ones to recieve this power.   And he taught them how to weild it, first creating Ethiea, the first of the planets. Crafting the Lands and Seas, and the Rocks and Trees.   After five hundred Days and five hundred Nights had passed he finished his World, and from the ground he called forth Vah'Vahnet. The First of the Firsts.   The first to be born of the Land. The first to walk the Land without Power. The first to Grow. The first to become Old.   And so the Cycle continued. Firsts being born, and Firsts becoming Old.   Miltiades was begining to growing tired, and started to prepare for his rest. He stood in a sunny field, basking in the sun and taking root.   And it wasn't until Tayanan rose from the Land at the feet of Vah'Vahnet, that Miltiades realized his first mistake.   Vah'Vahnet, who had become his closest friend, was overcome with tears. A great sorrow had filled his heart, he was the only of his kind.   And so the Maker raised a hundred of each of his creatures.   And he realized his second mistake.   One by one they killed each other, and Vah'Vahnet and the Firsts watched each other Disappear. They learned of Death and Wickedness.   And Miltiades third mistake came to Light.   The First of Firsts broke. He was unable to join his comrades in Death.   Miltiades had not gifted the Firsts with Mortality, and even though his greatest friend begged him so, he could not bring himself to End him.   Instead he banished endless life from his future children, and brought the Cycle to a close.   And with a Great Weariness he finally fell into a deep slumber, awaiting the day he would finally reawaken.
Date of Setting
The Beginning
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