The Banquet of the Waters

Awendir Kothis, Arch Prelate of the Granite Brotherhood, enters the auditorium of one the numerous Norati Guild facilities. He lets the room full of Elven scholars and others seeking knowledge sit in silence. He clears his throat…
“I’ve come to speak to you all today about the legend of The Banquet of Waters, the story of our birth. Eons ago, the great Mother Fay, accompanied by her faithful husband Tor, brought forth our reality from the primordial disorder, forming countless stars and worlds; one among such worlds was Kanui, our esteemed home. But she could not walk among her creations, forbidden from wandering across the lands she made. And so she birthed beings that could, the New Gods. First among these deities was Atracus the Firstborn, followed by his kin Orion, Sunyi, Makos, Zaidos Dai, and Shenzhen Er,” he pauses, looking at the gazes placed upon him and those scribbling notes, and then continues. “The New Gods sought to seed Kanui with their own children, continuing Fay’s legacy. But the Firstborn grew envious of his kin, for in his mind, Kanui was his celestial birthright. In the shadows, he plotted and schemed to banish his kin from the realm, leaving him the sole heir. The Firstborn’s fury would continue to grow in the dark, nearly bursting when the God, Zaidos Dai, formed Golath. The origins of Golath are mired in mystery, but many fellow scholars believe that he was conceived when Zaidos Dai joined with a primordial soul that would be our people. And so Golath was born upon the world, and he wandered it, molding those primordial souls into something new. First, he created the world trees, titans of the natural world. And then he formed the shadows to help him perfect this new world, the beginning spark of what would be Elven and mortal kind. But that was the point of no return for the Firstborn, who struck Golath out of pure spite and wrath. The powerful dragon father Tor intervened, preventing Atracus from brutalizing Golath. And thus the Banquet of the Waters was called, and no God could shy away from it,” he takes a breath, a brief moment of respite.
“The legends continue to describe the magnificence of the Banquet itself, how Orion constructed a grand pagoda that oversaw the Segar Ocean and glided above the city of Hamuran. The pagoda was built of finely cut marble and stood thousands of stories above the celestial city. Along its flanks stood the gargoyles accented with gold and quicksilver who stood silently in their vigil. Along the banks of Hamuran, the deep blue sapphire seas blended into one another, swaying with divine grace, reflecting the gleam of the sun’s rays. Inside awaited a feast worthy of the Gods, great honey oats, rooster sharks, wooly porsams, risfly stew, and other divine delicacies served by Zaidos Dai, the hunter and starlight bowmaster. But as the Gods feasted, while the world remained incomplete, Atracus was nowhere to be found. That was until he entered the great halls, hands bloodied and crimson waters running down his body. And as the feasting Gods stood to fight their traitorous kin, they fell one by one, the very food they gorged on poisoned by the Firstborn. The magnificent Orion watched in horror as his kin lay dead, and in his righteous fury, he summoned forth a wave that rivaled the peak of his monumental creation,” Kothis pauses, allowing the listeners to absorb his teachings, a small tear forming in his eye. “Here, we see the complexity of the divine. How, much like us, the Gods celebrated and suffered in equal measure. But the legend does not conclude there, for we have yet to reach our birth,” he commands, collecting and focusing his emotions.
“As the Gods fell and Orion lashed out, Golath wept, and from his tears, the shadows he had created to aid in building the world began to change. And as the waters of Orion’s fury encroached upon Hamuran, the shadows took shape. In that very moment, mortal kind was brought into the world, tangible and grounded. And in the aftermath of Atracus’ betrayal, only he, Orion, and a few other Gods remained. The survivors, broken by grief, went their separate ways, each taking a portion of mortal kind with them. The Firstborn, for his actions, paid a heavy price. The dragon father, Tor chained the murderer to Mount Irredul, waiting for the volatile fires to burn away at the traitor slowly. But many Gods remained unaware that Atracus took some mortals of his own, who he would use to sow the seeds of chaos and ruin. And thus concludes the Banquet of the Waters, the creation of mortality,” he claims softly at the end, glazing between the listeners. Some teared, some continued scribbling in their notes, some were oblivious and disinterested, and the rest sat in silence, enthralled by the Arch Prelate.