The Beginning of Sartova Excerpt One

As remembered, but never retold, by the Holy Spirit Arratokon, the mind of Memory within the Oceans of Sartova, who witnessed the coming of the world. Chronicled by the thrice-revered Scribe-Warden known as Tefin Nahaaris, of Vandermount, a shining city in the Eastern Rings of Er'laria's most beautiful peaks.

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Simon looked upon his canvas where already the Danse of Histories has begun to take shape, looking to his favorite, Sartova. As he twitched his fingers, hovering over the infinite seas of the Chronicle, masses of land began to morph and rise from the murky depths. The Storyteller smiled, as one of his forty-and-eight children tugged at his beard of floating chronocules (Translation not found, meaning remains, beard of time particles?).
Looking to one side, he saw his eldest, Dael-Who-Would-Become-Kyr, whose form was too horrific and fluid to describe, watching the churning seas of infinite inky darkness above with a mixture of horror and amazement. Quickly, Simon churned powerful storm clouds over Sartova, turning the skies of void bright and blue to protect his Childe from witnessing too much. However, Dael-Who-Would-Become-Kyr spoke up, questioning Simon as he works, "What am I seeing? What is the purpose of all this?"
Simon smiled, walking upon Evandyr with Dael-Who-Would-Become-Kyr as the other two Children of Sartova followed, still taking shape. "Dael, The Planar Danse shall not harm you, do not fear it". This was the first lie.
Dael-Who-Would-Become-Kyr nodded. The second Childe, Avernus, whose form was growing strong enough to mold mountains with bare hands, looked around at the chalky white sands forming under their feet as they walked. The continent was still taking shape around them as he spoke, "But this? Why are we here?"
Stopping and turning to all three of his children upon this budding Story, and spreading his arms, he said: "Sartova is my Chronicle, and your purpose is to form the Story of Sartova". With a flourish, he rises scattered archipelagos, vantage points in the seas, for Dael-Who-Would-Become-Kyr. With a second wave of his hands, the sun-baked sands and comforting soils for Avernus. Finally, he moves to the Eastern Seas and rises a perfect circle of land for his youngest, Jharia of Jhar'gorn, who would become the Queen of Titans. Simon returned to his children solemnly, "I make all this for you, to be your homes and for you to thrive upon. In return I ask only that you tell the Story as I Tell it, Avernus and Jharia, and for you, Dael, to Observe the Story to understand why I have made it".
Jharia nodded, looking upon her perfect home, naming it Jhar'gorn, and finding a Titan-lord for a mate with which to proliferate their Hold.
Avernus scoffed, seeing his jagged coasts and chaotic home and beginning already to disobey Simon's Story, crafting from the dirt the first men, and calling them the Hob. Simon smiled at this slight disobedience, for he created Avernus to do just that.
Dael-Who-Would-Become-Kyr, however, questioned Simon's wishes, "If I am to Observe the moral of this Story, at least tell me what it is so I know what to watch... I only have two eyes in this head with which to perceive it".
Shaking his head, Simon replied with an old adage of wisdom which all scholars to this day repeat: "Knowledge must be found - and to find a thing, it must be hidden. It is not enough to be told... for if i simply tell you, you shall not understand. Dael, you must find this knowledge for yourself to truly comprehend it".
As Simon watched, proud, Dael-Who-Would-Become-Kyr nodded, attempting to understand. He came to the conclusion that he must not miss a single thing in the story, and so teared his flesh into smaller pieces, which grew into a cacophony of forms, the first of which named themselves the Daelkyr and itself Torashyrra (also known as the Lord of Eyes), eyes budding all over it's mound of flesh while mini-realities spark and sputter to allow these subdivisions. With these eyes, Torashyrra may see through all eyes upon Sartova, to Observe as Simon wishes.
After this performance, the Daelkyr retired to their risen land, naming them the Fiefdoms of Tor. (reason for this unknown! Do the Daelkyr know of the Torfield at this time or did they see it above?)
With this, Simon left his children to their Story, moving to the next of the Sixteen-and-One Chronicles of the Danse of Histories.