Primordial Forces

Before the gods had names, there were only truths.

The Primordial Forces are not a single being, but the unformed will of the cosmos given flickering shape. They are memory without mind, presence without body, the ancient architects from whom all creation drew its first breath. Long before gods, beasts, and mortals claimed their stories, these forces stirred in the silence between stars. They are not worshipped, for they do not hear. They are not seen, for they are the very veil behind sight itself. And yet, every divine bloodline echoes their breath, every god carries their inheritance like a secret lodged in the spine of their becoming. To call them “parents” is a convenience of language. They are more like primordial currents, from which the gods condensed like stormclouds from humidity. In some traditions, these forces are named and mythologized—as Titans, Leviathans, Great Serpents, Elementals—but these are masks worn by movements too vast to name. They do not desire. They do not choose. But from them flowed fire and shadow, love and fury, thought and time. And those who descended from them—directly or through a thousand divine filters—bear the quiet hum of origin beneath their skin. Though the Primordial Forces have long since faded into slumber or folded themselves into matter and myth, they are never gone. Every act of creation reawakens them. Every god who dares to shape, destroy, or love deeply enough taps their endless reservoir. They are the blood behind divinity, the shape behind the shapeshifters, the pulse beneath pantheon and particle alike.

Known Manifestations of the Primordial Forces:

Elementals

The elemental manifestations are the most physical of the Primordial echoes. Fire that cannot be quenched, oceans that remember no shore, winds that whisper in dead languages—these are their avatars. Elementals act with purpose but without motive, bound by cycles yet untamed by them. Gods of flame, stone, storm, and tide often trace their origins here, shaped by raw, inhuman nature.

Animi (Animistic Spirits)

These are the living wills of place, plant, and primal behavior. The Animi arise in the folds of existence where sentience was never intended. A mountain that watches. A tree that mourns. A river that judges. Unlike elementals, Animi are relational—they bind themselves to land and lore, becoming the unseen caretakers of forests, valleys, and ancient paths. Many early deities of fertility, agriculture, and guardianship descend from these spirits.

Titans and Cosmic Beasts

The Titans are the closest thing to "gods before gods." They embody natural law and colossal scope—time, decay, sky, hunger, inevitability. Often slain, chained, or buried beneath new mythologies, their remnants pulse beneath reality like dormant earthquakes. Some are remembered by name—Tiamat, Ymir, Chaos, Pangu. Others are erased completely, save for the monstrous gaps they left behind. From their blood came strength. From their flesh, the world.

Sídhe and Mythic Ancestors

Not all Primordial reflections are monstrous or vast. Some narrowed into elegance, charm, and subtle immortal craft. The Sídhe—ancient, ageless beings of wonder and wildness—bridge the gap between Animism and Divinity. Though they live in song and story, they descend from something older than memory. They are tradition made flesh, timeless wisdom with dancing feet, and often the bearers of cultural knowledge that predates the gods themselves. In your pantheon, some are Age 1, having walked the edge of unshaped world before history hardened.

Forgotten Celestials and Non-Earth Forces

Before earth had form, before seas had weight, there were forces that danced in The Void between stars—entities whose domains were lightless gravity wells, stellar birth-cries, and the silence of unshaped dimensions. These were the early celestials: luminous, cold, and now mostly lost. Time itself wore them down, their purposes obsolete in a world bound by matter and mortality. No temples hold their names. No pantheon recalls their kin. Yet sometimes, in the space between heartbeats or the vast pause of an eclipse, they are remembered—not as gods, but as echoes of what never needed to be born.

Principles Given Flesh (e.g., Death, Fate)

Some Primordial Forces did not roar or burn or whisper through branches. They emerged as inevitabilities—concepts so ancient and essential that they shaped reality merely by existing. Death did not come from murder; murder only proved Death already lived. These personifications—beings like Azrael Vale —are not deities, but truths with footprints. They do not command domains. They are the domain. Where they walk, their law follows. Some are solitary. Some take form only when called. But all of them wear the silence of certainty like a cloak, and to know their name is to feel the edge of what cannot be undone.

Species

Beings: Divine

Realm

The Divine Realm

Date of Birth

Evos Todhchaí
Gheydh

Parents

The Void

Children