Seari Myth: The First Sphere

The Origination myth, as told by the sylfaodolon

The day had finally arrived. After the excruciating search for an appropriate sphere the appropriate distance from a sun, after the construction and the setbacks, an excited Aseris raised her hand. She triggered the magicks held gently within the sphere of earth, bringing the world she, Ceaque, Martaek, Saeotheroil and Leivanthallisie had created to fruition.
Velvynis was born.
Mountains and seas formed, lakes and rivers formed, forests and grasslands, deserts and ice-covered wastes. The air tasted fresh and flower-sweet, the light blazed bright, the shadows cooled. Nothing broke, nothing out of place. An empty rock floating within emptiness now had form, but it did not have life.
Aseris created the first sylfaone to fill this void. Zoerzhe, the first, a shadow, a reflection. She burst into being, eager to explore, but nearly as quickly, fear filled her heart, and she cowered back, afraid at the new.
The second sylfaone was of the willows and the riverside, bendable and never breaking. She was Lumin Illu, the second, the light of intelligence on the earth. She saw her creator and wished to emulate, and she studied as Aseris created other beings, then created her own.
The two created beings of tall stature, beings of small, beings of wings and paws, beings of intelligence, beings of light and the dark. Then came animals, to fill the world, to walk in places the sylfaodolon did not. To swim in the places sylfaodolon did not. To fly in the places sylfaodolon did not. All interacted within their natures, bringing stability and peace.

Not all found the progress to their liking. One, of darkness and chaos, found stability repulsive and tedious. Peace induced laziness. He sought to change the direction of the world and brought together those of similar minds. They plotted deep in caves, away from Lumin Illu and Illumination, away from the knowledge Leivanthallisie wore as a cloak, for Zoerzhe had warned them, illumination and knowledge would end their desires before they bore fruit.
The sylfaone of chaos desired one ally above all others, but that one refused his offer. The sylfaone who trained for battle but never participated, the sylfaone who carried a sword against his chest but never sliced another. He, of battle, had other ambitions, and he thrust chaos from his home and demanded he never return.
Chaos, enraged at the disrespect, furiously walked a nearby riverbank, muddling his mind with revenge. He happened upon the gentle and kind lover of the battlesylf, who relaxed in the sun and delighted in the breeze. He grabbed him and took him to the caves, caged him away from sunlight and the breezes, and again visited the battlesylf. His lover would remain whole, only if he joined the chaos in destroying the world.
The battlesylf fell to his inner hunger and raged through the caves, tearing all asunder to reach his love. Even Chaos could not stand against his might. Chaos did not wish to. Chaos saw the destruction and the pain and fear and reveled in the beauty of it. The earth cracked, fell, bringing injury, bringing deaths. Bringing the discordant lifesong Chaos desperately desired to the sphere.
The sphere, once-beacon and perfect, collapsed upon itself. Few sylfaodolon survived; even fewer lesser beings did.

Aseris's fury rode behind the battlesylf. Her carefully constructed creation turned to rubble due to jealousy and hate, cowardice and ill-intent. She brought her power upon the remains like a hammer and smashed what remained.
Ceaque cradled the small shards, and he dared her strike while he held them. She paused in her fury, and he asked a simple question.
"Do you prefer to create or destroy?"
She had sought to create since a young being, had sought to illuminate through craft and art. She wanted to construct a sphere that held passion and compassion, kindness and devotion, a poet's heart and a painter's soul.
"But there is both, passion and hate. Compassion and disregard. Kindness and cruelty, devotion and indifference. Each is meaningless without their opposite. The universe is not so nice, that it sways to happiness and light. It is a center, nothing more. And all will seek that center, seek that balance."
"It is not how I wished," Aseris whispered.
"No, but we may learn from our first attempt and create another. Perfection is a myth we must overcome."
Aseris shed tears for her creation, for the sphere she thought would contain endless joy for her. Another's cries overcame her own. Zoerzhe, her first created, had survived, and mourned.
"My lover, my love, is taken from me!" she screamed. "Chaos sought the balance you forsook. You murdered your heart for a false dream!"
"Your path is not that of knowledge's light," Ceaque told her coolly as Aseris recoiled. "You forsook that long before you embraced chaos and plots and the ascension of death. You lead nowhere but into turmoil's poison. Such is your wish, to punish the one who formed you."
Aseris did not believe. She could not destroy her heart, by destroying Zoerzhe. Ceaque was not so sentimental, but she slapped her hand over his own.
"It is mine to right," she told him. "Until then, I wish to create with you. To form another sphere where opposites are not destruction's force."

With Martaek, Saeotheroil and Leivanthallisie, Aseris and Ceaque created anew. They searched for an appropriate sphere near an appropriate sun, and discovered one after many wrenching eons. Instead of one sphere of light, they created four intertwined planes, existing in the same place and time, but separate realms. The remains of the first sphere became the realm of twilight, a somber remembrance of that which was lost but also a soft reflection of fierce hope and joy for a better future. It became the realm of Ceaque and his softly fierce ways.
The new sphere sat as the sunlit realm, the realm of Aseris. It was brightness and exuberance and excitement, clouded with the shadows cast by the sun. Leivanthallisie created Arberiss, a place for the sylfaodolon, a place away from the other living beings, a place that they could not so easily destroy. Martaek and Saeotheroil claimed no realm, content to create within what was already made.
Ceaque then created the twilight mists, an in between, a transitional plane, a soft and sensuous realm that never experienced extremes.
Within the realms, the five formed mountains and seas, lakes and rivers, forests and grasslands, deserts and ice-covered wastes. The air tasted fresh and flower-sweet, the light blazed bright, the shadows cooled. Nothing broke, but nothing stood as perfect representations, either. The hint of chaos created the unknown, created curiosity and interest. It formed pathways for exploration rather than ends that never changed.
Aseris again took up the mantle of creator and formed the Abysses from the essences of the once-sylfaodolon. She cushioned them in Arberiss and they became the foundational spark for all living things, for all magick. Encouraged, she then formed the dragons. Her hand and magick molded fierce teeth and fierce intellect, sharp claws and sharp curiosity, filled their hearts with the glimmerings of kindness and love, but also indifference and hate. The dragons would individually decide which path to take, whether to embrace each glimmering or deny them purchase.
She thought of the sylfaodolon. She thought of how they matured, how so many sought to understand the sphere and its workings, rather than destroy. Lumin Illu watched as she created anew. She created Seleyoun, the essence of healing. Naether Mendim, the essence of direction, flow, Ossuhnnu, the essence of warmth, Abdhuniva, the essence of cold. Lumin Illu listened as Aseris placed restrictions on actions, developed natures, and her creations reflected what she learned. Sylfaodolon filled the lands.
Martaek became the master of beasts and Saeotheroil the lord of plants. Aseris withdrew as they created that which filled the empty lands, which walked and swam and flew where sylfaodolon and dragon did not.
The dragons became helpmates, and the five relied on them to navigate the new sphere and its chaos, for they reflected their home.
One hated it all. One saw a betrayal, one saw only darkness in the new sphere. One found the deepest recesses of twilight and swathed herself in their comfort. One vowed a revenge that would end with Aseris scattered across the Nine Abysses--or her own unmaking.

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