Skormir's Dream

In the beginning, there was only the great silvery sea of the astral plane, as only the future existed. Drifting in this sea was Skormir, a shapeshifting being made from the sea itself, and it was dreaming. A thousand dreams about a thousand things, Skormir saw the greatness the world could have, and strove to make it so. It awoke, and began to weave four beings out of the colours in the astral sea: Samdin the striver, Vathelod the singer, Janzil the changer, and Corbaltiss the devourer. Skormir made them powerful, and made them in the image of what it's dreams had been, and the four started to make places to live. They ventured into the void and conjured their essence into physical form.

Samdin made air, he made the swiftness and freedom that was unstoppable and uncatchable.

Vathelod made earth, as sturdy and permenant as anything that could be, and stunningly beautiful.

Janzil made water, so tame and so dangerous and always shifting.

Corbaltiss made fire, that roared with joy and strove to eat all it touched.

Each took their creation to Skormir, who was unsatisfied. Skormir wanted to make something that resembled it, that had a soul that was whole, and could see the value in all things. Such a being could not live in the savage places that had just been made. It pulled some more colour from the sea and shaped a person, very vaugly, and asked for a place where the person could live. It's children squabbled and refused, so Skormir cast them into the void again, with the shape of a person, and waited.

This time, the four talked, and agreed to use all the four elements, drawing from the new planes they had made, to create worlds that would please Skormir. So they made four worlds, each containing their own interpretation of the person that Skormir had made.

Samdin made the overside, he filled it with light, and in it were the shapes of celestials. He impressed upon them his own ideals, to strive to make the world more filled with light.

Vathelod made nardish, she crafted a stunningly beautiful plane with the shapes of the first people to fill it. She filled them with her love for stories and art, and humour.

Janzil made the feywild, and gave it to shapes of fey. He made them both fickle, chaotic and everchanging, as he was.

Corbaltiss made the casarow, and the fiends she shaped there were filled with her desire to destroy, and bring misery.

As they were returning to Skormir, Janzil remarked that they could not all win if Skormir was to choose, and they would do better to find a way to all aquire the souls. While Samdin believed Skormir would make the right choice, the other three decided not to risk it, and sent Vathelod to talk to it, as she had the gift of persuasion. Vathelod made her case, but as Skormir was about to reply Corbaltiss siezed part of it from behind, pulling away a fragment of Skormir's soul. With that, Skormir shattered into uncountable pieces with a terrible scream; Corbaltiss shivered with pleasure, as she had discovered how to inflict pain. Each of the four gathered all the fragments of Skormir they could, and gave each to one of their people. But without Skormir's blessing, each person withered with time, and began to suffer as it had. So the four made a place to take the ideas when they got too old, and named it the ethereal.

The four watched their people in the worlds they'd made. They saw that, even with the gift of the elements, it was hard work. None of their creations had factored in the death that comes without Skormir's blessing: the being of the future was the only thing that could grant permanance. So they needed a way to help their people. Vathelod asked the others to bring her the ideas from all the planes that existed, and she began to weave them all into a beautiful fabric, that the four called the arcana. Samdin, Vathelod, Janzil, and Corbaltiss showed their people how to find the arcana, and use it to better their cause. The four spend their time pulling souls from the astral plane and giving them to new mortals, so Skormir's blessing may live forever.

Skormir's scream still echos in the death-screams of mortals, as their souls are ripped away.