A Tale Of The World While It Was Younger Than You Or I

[Wil Nider]

A Tale Of The World While It Was Younger Than You Or I - Part the First
- A retelling of an old old story by Wil Nider.

"Let me tell you of the origins of everything we see around us today, how it all came to pass. The first lesson that must be learned, is that love is all. Love created everything, though hand in hand with death and rebirth. Listen, and I will tell you.

Understand that there has never been nothing. For nothing can proceed from nothing, and around us we see the whole of existence. No, for eternity and more, there has been at least two things. Spedomhain and Eiseamlar.

They have always been here, but not always as they are now. For an eternity before this eternity, they sat, thinking themselves alone. They leaned against an unseen barrier, looking into darkness, for there was nothing but them, and so there was little to see. We see how even the divine can be foolish, for they leaned against each other.

Spedomhain is male, and Eiseamlar female. He is the form - and she the essence - of everything we see around us this day. But separated they were only themselves...and it would have gone on like that for eternity, except for one happenstance. A sigh. A sigh of profound loneliness, issuing from each.

They whirled around, reached out, met each other´s grasp, and for the first and last time saw one another. They knew terror, they knew wonder, they knew recognition. But most of all they knew love. Love radiated from Eiseamlar, the essence and origin of all things...but it also radiated from Spedomhain, who is that which all things are formed with. This love issued forth from Spedomhain, and was doubled back on itself by the great torrent from his beloved. The force of this tide of adoration was too much, and Spedomhain was sundered, splitting apart in all directions. Eiseamlar too was undone, but in a different way. For while Spedomhain was form, and was changed when his body was made into pieces, Eiseamlar was essence, boundless essence, and could not be undone even though parts of her met with parts of her love.

So she found herself within the result of their mating, among the children of her essence mingled with his form. There was no darkness now, but light from a thousand suns, no loneliness but horrible unwanted accompaniment. Eiseamlar raged and smote all that she saw around her, levelling planets, reducing stars to merest cinders. But always she found that what she destroyed reappeared in another form. She could not escape this prison, as she regarded it, and so for long ages she sat in thought, resting herself upon a nebula."

[Aurangzeb Khan]

Very gnostic.

[Ari Rahikkala]

Very chilly. Lisa Chilly.

[Kaiser Ayreon]

Beautifully written.



Who are you, btw?

[Scott of Hyperborea]

That's Eoin!

[Aurangzeb Khan]

Very chilly. Lisa Chilly.

I should be used to not understanding Ari by now, and yet...

[Ari Rahikkala]

Oh well, she was Kevin anyway.

[Wil Nider]

A Tale Of The World While It Was Younger Than You Or I - Part the Second
- A retelling of an old old story by Wil Nider.

After the death of Spedomhain at the hands of love, Eiseamlar grew cold and callous. Obliterating planets had lost its savour, wreaking her vengeance on her prison grew stale. And in time she became more composed...and once more she wept. For what had she been doing, except wielding her anger against the child of the union between her and her only love?

She gazed around at the cosmos, saw that out of the wreckage many more galaxies and nebulae had been formed. For even though she was a goddess, the primeval deity and unique personality in this realm, she did not have the power to condemn any thing within that space to nothingness. She resolved, therefore, to make something to commemorate her lost love, and to absolve herself of her early fury.

Using the power of her infinite essence, she crafted worlds of marvellous hue, ocean worlds where storms constantly broiled, ring worlds where you or I might look up and see ourselves looking back, and others of every type imaginable. But none of them pleased her, and despite her earlier resolution, she smashed them to a thousand pieces, falling to work immediately after each destruction, not looking to see where the remains of her labour had gone.

Behind the feverish work of Eiseamlar, in the maelstrom of colliding debris, new worlds were forming. Five of them. These would become the worlds in which we live today? What´s that, you didn´t know there was more than one world? Oh yes, ours is not the only one, just one of the most important. For this world, Tirlar, is the Gate World, through which all other worlds can be reached.

As for the others, there are four. Tylmarinn, Eochar, Relgann and Meiridos. Of those there is little I can tell you. Travellers have come here from those distant worlds, the Magi on their ships of silver and gold escaping the Fellwars of Relgann, the grim Oáum riding their dark steeds in a warhost from Tylmarinn, the shaggy ape-folk called the Scakti from Meiridos...and the monoliths of shining blue stone that crash to earth from on high, some whisper from a portal into Eochar. Their ways are strange, and they often seek dominion or bloodshed in our world, but these otherworldly folk are our cousins, sure as we are related to every other speck of matter in the cosmos.

But let us return to our tale, where Eiseamlar still tries to craft a world that suits her tastes. Giving up, and taking her rest, she turned to see the five worlds, made by accident it would seem. She stood and gazed at them, not knowing what to think. For she had only been surprised once before, and that had imprisoned her within the shell of her dead love. Now, for the second time she was surprised...but nothing happened, save that the worlds kept spinning in place, orbiting a single sun. For what Eiseamlar saw, what any of us would see if we had the ability, was five worlds in the same position, five different nodes of reality occupying the same space. Something that in all her trials, she had never conceived of. She saw the mark of Spedomhain in it, and she loved the Five Worlds as soon as she saw them.
As we have learned, love is the great leveller, the one blow which we never expect and to which we will fall most easily. Eiseamlar opened her heart once more, and the Five Worlds accepted her love, drawing it into themselves with a jealousy she had not expected. A greater part of her essence was drawn out of her than she expected, and she was now bound to the planets which she had loved but not made. Still the most powerful of all, still the crafter of nebulae...but bound.

With the power of her emotions, with the force of her love, were born the gods.

[Hesam Jayatar]

And you said you'd never return. Welcome back Eoin, I purchased you a gift for your return.

[Scott of Hyperborea]

So, Wil, I was all ready to put this place on hiatus and go to Straylight for a while, as my sensibilities are tending less towards the mystic and more towards the science-fiction-y these days, not to mention that this place is getting a bit to Babkhan for my liking. But if you're here and interested in Hyperborea, well, that makes things a little different.

One possibility: ask Hesam if he wants to move permanently to Byzantipol, get you installed as Count here, and I'll stay in Straylight and pop in here from time to time. Another: we can both hang out here, maybe along with Hesam, and try to make this place a great Shireroth-spanning empire again. Or one of us could take this place, one of us could take someplace nearby, and me-you-Iain-Ric could form a Treesian culture axis to oppose the Babkhan culture axis forming in Zjandaria. Or we could see if Iain's got any bright ideas.

What do you think?

[Hesam Jayatar]

I don't mind giving up the "countship" of Hyperborea for Wil. And I'd be more than willing to assist with Hyperborea (the traditional as opposed to the Babkhan), but I'm also writing that bit for Byzantipol and working on a story arch with Ardy so my time will be limited.

[Oroigawa Koreyasu]

Scott! No! Step into the Straylight! We need you!

[Ari Rahikkala]

Hey, it's OK with me. If he thinks he has as much time to conculture during medical school as he always did (though it might take even more time than that to make Hyperborea dominant again) he's welcome to rebuild whichever empire he likes. It would make me sad, though - I was saving up such a neat genetic-social experiment, with human enhancement and MMIs and all, just for him .

[Aurangzeb Khan]

So, Wil, I was all ready to put this place on hiatus and go to Straylight for a while, as my sensibilities are tending less towards the mystic and more towards the science-fiction-y these days, not to mention that this place is getting a bit to Babkhan for my liking. But if you're here and interested in Hyperborea, well, that makes things a little different.

One possibility: ask Hesam if he wants to move permanently to Byzantipol, get you installed as Count here, and I'll stay in Straylight and pop in here from time to time. Another: we can both hang out here, maybe along with Hesam, and try to make this place a great Shireroth-spanning empire again. Or one of us could take this place, one of us could take someplace nearby, and me-you-Iain-Ric could form a Treesian culture axis to oppose the Babkhan culture axis forming in Zjandaria. Or we could see if Iain's got any bright ideas.

What do you think?

Well we have enough citizens now to make a Baronies a meaningful proposition the options will be investigated and the ducal throne may be petitioned.

[Wil Nider]

Well...I'll think about it. I'd be just as happy to scoot along as a normal Joe Soap here, mythicising myself away. Which reminds me, must get around to writing the next installment!

[Aurangzeb Khan]

A Joe Soap who is Earl (Count). Congrats, naturally.

[Wil Nider]

A Tale Of The World While It Was Younger Than You Or I - Part the Third
- A retelling of an old old story by Wil Nider.

Eiseamlar´s first children were four in number, and they are called the Tetrarchs of Creation. Mortal men also call them the Irdia, and that is the name I shall use. They were born each on a different one of the worlds, but soon each found their way to Tirlar, the world which resonated most with their hearts, and to which all others worlds were joined. There they saw each other for the first time, recognising kindred spirits, and here I shall call their names.

Tineon the Flameforge. He had come forth from Meiridos, where still the volcanoes mourn his departure. In later years he was the king of the Irdia, sitting upon a throne of molten steel only he could touch. He was fiery at heart, and at times his spirit would gutter low, and he would sink into rage and despair. At others, when the flame was truly in him, he could laugh and fight and sing the songs of creation which made the world we see around us today. Among the Irdia, he is the most like their mother, taking joy in the making of things but often destroying them in rage. Summer is his season, and when we feel his blazing heat we know that the Lord of Fire is watching our doings.

Gaother the Windwalker. She flew upon a breeze from Relgann, the same that the Magi navigated long afterShe walks upon the Worldwind, which blows between all worlds, and she is the most frequent visitor of all the lands that Eiseamlar made. She has always been lighter of spirit than her siblings, without the shadow of Eiseamlar´s sorrow upon her heart. The birds and other creatures of the air are her friends and her confidantes. She takes joy in meddling with the doings of her more serious brothers, crafting the rainbow to confound both Tineon and Uisceor. Spring is her season, when she dances amidst the showers and teases us with gusts to remind us that winter has not quite left.

Salio the Gemsmith. She found passageways among the heartrock of Eochar, and left that strange place for the living mountains of Tirlar. More than any other Irdia, her old world calls out for her, and they say the strange monoliths with appear are seeking for their ancient mistress, that she made them in the beginning. Salio has the least patience for the sentient races, preferring the ineffability of animals or the indifference of minerals to our chaotic ways. Though she is fierce in war and implacable in both hatred and love, she spends much of her time away from the doings of the other gods, preferring to carve ever more beautiful caves for herself. Autumn is her season, when change comes upon the world to bring out a beauty that is hidden the rest of the year and unappreciated by many. Salio smiles then, and walks among the fallen leaves.

Uisceor the Waverider. From the mighty rivers of Tylmarinn he flowed into Tirlar and found his kin. He is grim, and never known to smile, for his mind is always in motion. He has never fully relinquished his hold over the seas and rivers, and many of even the smallest rivulets are his own jealous property. Those who sail upon the sea are careful to pay all proper respects to Uisceor, for otherwise they may find themselves sundered. But the heart of Uisceor is free from true avarice, he possesses all he could wish for, and turns no covetous eyes upon the land. And well he doesn´t, for his coill might submerge us all. Winter is his season, when snows and rains and hail fall upon us and Uisceor dreams, but for a few months, that he did indeed hold sway over the whole of Tirlar.

These four stood upon the bare featureless rock of Tirlar, and wondered. For each had already made the world they left in their own image, when they had first found them they had been as plain as this new world at the centre of all things. Who should have the right to say how this new world was built? Thoughts of war entered even the peaceful heart of Gaother (for the gods are always quick to think of war, though they might not resort to it), but they were loathe to commit, for they recognised in each other the same divine spark.

Tineon spoke first, even from that moment he had the command. "There must be a competition to decide to whom this world doth belong." Those were the first words spoken in the whole of time. The Irdia agreed, and fell to discussing the terms of this competition in their new language.

Echoes of this argument reached even the void of space - for when the gods argue it is very loud indeed - and the noise sought out the ears of Eiseamlar, the Paragon of All Things, where she sat musing over her next creation. She had already tired of the five planets, for she had not seen her children the Irdia and had not seen the works they had wrought, and intended to undo them and make something else in their image, intending to improve by repetition. But as she heard the shouts of her children, she turned and was struck with wonder once again. For in place of the five barren yet beautiful worlds she had seen before, there was now only one. The other four had been transformed, each a reflection of the Irdé that had been born there, though she did not know that. Upon the central world, she saw four incandescent forms. It was their argument which she heard. Deciding but to watch for a moment, she waited to see what they would do.

Not seeing their mother above, the Irdia had agreed the conditions of thenge. There would be a contest of power, and the victor would lay claim to the entirety of this world, banishing their siblings back to their homes. For the hearts of gods are often jealous, and unless better intentions present themselves they will often crave dominion for themselves above all others. So the battle was joined.

But to no avail, for when masters of the elements pit themselves against one another the result is always predictable. Tineon´s pillars of flame were extinguished by Gaother´s wind. Gaother´s tornadoes could not penetrate the fortresses of Salio. Salio´s walls were undermined and swept away by Uisceor´s tidal waves. Uisceor´s seas were boiled and evaporated by the flames of Tineon. The Irdia were evenly matched, each able to beat one, but unable to defend themselves from another. Again Tineon spoke, "We are equal, and there shall be no lordship here. Let us divide this world evenly, so that each may claim a share."

Eiseamlar watched as her children worked. Tineon made great pools of lava, seas of flame that scorched the skies, and delighted in the light and noise his realm produced. Gaother took glee in a land of eternal change, where each new breeze brought a different landscape. Salio raised up mountains that challenged the skies, and delved in halls that were nearly as deep as her own heart. Uisceor lived in sea that reflected all other realms and yet was grander still, filled remnants of other lands which the sea claims and makes its own. She was displeased, and descended upon them.

Though she spoke in the language her children had made for themselves, it was not their tongue which she spoke. In that moment was invented new modes of speech, the mode of a mother talking to her child, of divinity addressing lesser divinities, of children appealing to their mother. Eiseamlar handed down edicts, demanded a vision of her own devising. The Irdia knew not who Eiseamlar was at that time, and they refused. They would not share their powers with one another, and certainly not at the behest of a mother who cared only for her own sovereignty. Such is the way at times with children and parents. It shows the necessity of lessons.

Eiseamlar´s lesson was not one that you or I might teach, for we have not the power. Grabbing each of her children in turn, she tore from each of them three parts. "These are your children, and may they treat with you better than you have treated with me! Now, lest you wish me to destroy them, you will give one to each of your siblings, so that you may know each others´ minds!"

This was the first time that the rite of hostage was used, even as it is now amongst enemies who a lord would wish to be friends, where the child of one house is brought up in the house of another. Men do well to emulate the example of the gods.

To Tineon was given Bladhm, Leaigh and Rianna. Bladhm was the daughter of Uisceor, and the most fervent servant of her new lord. She was his first bride, and theirs the first wedding. Leaigh was the daughter of Salio, and she was methodical where her lord was fractious, considerate where he considered none. Rianna was the daughter of Gaother, and she was the bearer of the Sun. She was Tineon´s second bride, for which Bladhm never forgave her.

To Gaother was given Carann, Seicha and Ulcharam. Carann was the son of Salio, and by rooting himself in the earth yet reaching to the sky he taught the trees how to grow. Seicha was the son of Tineon, though in the whirling chaos of the storm he created he can be anything. Ulcharam was the son of Uisceor, though he gave himself wholeheartedly to his new mistress, loving her though she was truly enamoured only of the air.

To Salio was given Crandoigh, Runda and Aincoim. Crandoigh was the son of Tineon, and it was he who brought the secrets of the flame to Salio so that she might make greater things still. Runda was the son of Gaother, his quick mind always thinking of new inventions. Aincoim was the son of Uisceor, and with earth and water together he made the beasts that walk upon the earth.

To Uisceor was given Dobharcufile, Lochrin and Folcador. Dobharcufile was the daughter of Gaother, the patron of bards, and her mischievous ways are not as much a frustration to her lord as he pretends. Lochrin was the daughter of Salio, and it is in lakes and underground waters that she finds solace, preferring to leave her master to care for the seas. Folcador was the daughter of Tineon, taking joy in the terrible storms of the sea in winter, but tasked with Uisceor to provide the life-giving rain in less wild times.

With these, the Irbegdia, Eiseamlar thought to resolve the differences between her children and to achieve her ends. Indeed, she was right. The Irdia found that through the Irbegida they could better understand their siblings, where their whims and desires had seemed incomprehensible before.

Thus was our world truly born, from the concerted efforts of the Irdia, the Irbegida and the orders of the watchful Eiseamlar. When this was done, the Paragon of All Things threw her eyes to the other worlds, finding fault with them, she demanded they be altered also, but with one difference. Those Irdia which had originally made a world in their own image might have the greatest hand in remaking their own world along with their Irbegdia, though with the help of their siblings. So it is that even now the denizens of those worlds hold one Irdé and their Irbegdia above all primeval, whereas here we venerate all equally.

The Five Worlds were made, and the Irdia took time to survey their work and glory in it. The intervention of Eiseamlar had made them allies, willing to put aside their differences, and given them the joy of children. Even after the work was done, the Irdia were unwilling to return their hostages, for they had grown used to them, and did not miss the children of their own flesh.

As time wore on though, the Irdia found they had new desires. The desire for many more children, or in some cases subjects to rule over and direct even as Eiseamlar ruled over them as the Paragon of All Things. The idea crossed the mind of all four Irdia, and they began to scheme with their Irbegdia. War was never far away from the minds of the gods, as we have learned before...

[Wil Nider]

Differences between this chronicle and the Books of the Orchids:

- Far more about the creation of the universe. I recall a sermon by Brother Ezekiel years ago where he said the founding principle of the universe was love. As a callow youth, I didn't realise the profound truth of that. Love, especially tragic love, is enormously powerful. In this case, it was the factor that resulted in the cosmos as we know it.
- Far more about the Irdia. In the Books of the Orchids they pretty much took a secondary role after the Faldia came along, because in fairness the Faldia are more interesting in and of themselves. This time around the Irdia are as you see them now: warlike, capricious, constantly plotting against each other. It'll be interesting to see what happens when Eiseamlar ushers in the Faldia!
- Eiseamlar as a Paragon, but not perfect. I've studied philosophy since I came up with all this junk, and the idea of perfect form and perfect essence was already in the Books of the Orchids. I know that there are some very blurry lines here, and definite anthromorphication of the two concepts, but I like Eiseamlar as a goddess deranged by grief. Obviously we can see where the Irdia get their tempers from!
- The Irbegdia as hostages. I don't know if I executed it as well as I'd hoped, but it's an idea that's been floating around in my head for almost two years now. With the new version and the primacy of the Irdia (at least at first) the Irbegdia become more of an enforcement of the peace rather than servants sent by Eiseamlar. More on their antics in the next Part...

Opinions on the changes appreciated. For comparison, the Books of the Orchids are in the Multi-Temple

[Jess]

What ever happened to Iridia?

[Wil Nider]

Ehhhhhh, nothing?

[Scott of Hyperborea]

Jess: Iridia is the name of some johnny-come-lately country. The Irdia (note the lack of a third "i") are the original Gods of Creation.

Eoin: your powers have clearly waxed in the years you've been away from micronationalism, and since they were never that low, that's saying something. Now I remember what it was like to have REAL micronational religions instead of this Boomist flim-flam.

[b3n|<3r|\|]

Bah. You are all Abbas Namvari.

[Scott of Hyperborea]

People should use the Multi-Temple more.

[Wil Nider]

Instead of this forum, you mean? Yes, probably. Watch that space...

[Andreas the Wise]

Eoin: your powers have clearly waxed in the years you've been away from micronationalism, and since they were never that low, that's saying something. Now I remember what it was like to have REAL micronational religions instead of this Boomist flim-flam.

I don't know about flim-flam, but I do appreciate the great mind that created this. I've tried my hand at legends, but never have I got something which felt so much like a Greek Myth like this feels. It is great (though I haven't read the original)

In fairness though, Boomism is a many person religion, whereas religions like this or Soloralism tend to be one or two people who develop them in great detail ... whereas Boomism has a multitude of gods, and many people pick one or two to honour and develop in greater detail, so as a whole it could perhaps be richer, but it is not as coherent.

[hypatias mom]

Besides, the only real thing that attracts many people to the B0O0O0O/\/\ist gods and practices is the fact that they like to blow things up and hear and watch the explosion. This religion that Eoin is developing is much different, and has an intiirely different level of seriousness and detail to it.

Thank you, Eoin, for expanding upon this creation story.

[Scott of Hyperborea]

In fairness though, Boomism is a many person religion, whereas religions like this or Soloralism tend to be one or two people who develop them in great detail ... whereas Boomism has a multitude of gods, and many people pick one or two to honour and develop in greater detail, so as a whole it could perhaps be richer, but it is not as coherent.

Back in the days when men were real men and women were real women and so on, the TUC probably had at least ten or so people. Me, Eoin, Iain, Ardy, Cutterham, Benazir, Steven, that guy from Cumquat, a Baracaoan or two, Friedel...others would probably remember better.

As for being "richer", http://baronyoftreesia.yuku.com/forums/ ... brary.html

[Andreas the Wise]

Fine ...

Wil, your problem clearly is that you didn't incorporate your religion into a famous micronational RPG with anything more than passing references

[Wil Nider]

Just editing some posts to fix grammar and stuff that appears to have been contracted over time.

Also to bump the thread to allow for further segments to be written

[Wil Nider]

A Tale Of The World While It Was Younger Than You Or I - Part the Fourth
- A retelling of an old old story by Wil Nider.

The five worlds were complete. The Irdia and their servants the Irbegdia were at rest, save for Aincoim who delighted in bringing to life more and more of his children, the beasts of the land, the birds of the air and the creatures of the sea. His divine imagination knew no bounds, and the smallest and greatest of animals were made in this time. Many of the other Irbegdia took pleasure in Aincoim’s creations, and they adopted some of the forms for their own.

Thus it is that Dobharcufile takes the form of the otter, and indeed gives her name to that creature as a gift. Seicha flies as a great hawk, Folcador as the albatross, and Ulcharam as the owl. Bladhm became a panther, taking her only moments of unfettered joy in leaping after prey and others of her kind. For a time, Aincoim’s foster-brother Runda took the form of the ox and dwelled amongst the great herds that roamed the steppes of all worlds. Even now, a particularly strong or brave ox is called a son or daughter of Runda.

But the Irdia did not take forms of mortal animals, for they were deep in plot. Even though they had been born out of love, the worlds they called home were birthed out of frustration and a desire to rule only that which seemed perfect in the creator’s eyes. Their sons and daughters were granted reprieve from these emotions thanks to their fosterage, for the Irdia loved them fiercely and with none of the reservations Eiseamlar had for her offspring. So the Irbegdia were allowed a time of festivity, until their parents called them to council.

It so happened that the Tetrarchs of Creation had decided on the same course of action. At the height of Bol the greatest volcano of Meiridos, Tineon and his servants summoned forth the white-hot magmas. In the gem-lined caverns of Eochar, Salio and her cohorts carved the formations of hard stone. Upon her cloud-fortress that rode the skies of Relgann Gaother and her accomplices plucked the strongest currents of the Worldwind. In his home amidst the titanic forests of weeds while the seas above churned with storms, Uisceor and his allies stood in the eye of a maelstrom of whirlpools and chose from the wildest waves and flows. From these, the most potent of their elements, the Irdia fashioned the first people that the Five Worlds ever knew, the Duilne.

Of course, though they kept their identical plans secret from one another, Eiseamlar saw all of this plotting and scheming. For the briefest of moments, once more she contemplated destroying this flawed creation, which seemed set to devolve once more into war between her divine children. But the Paragon thought better of it, and while her children had for a moment left the marshalling and instruction of their new populations to their servants, she stole amongst them, sowing seeds of her divine essence, which would come to fruition at a time of her choosing. Then she returned to her seat above all her accidental creation, and smiled.

The original purpose of the Duilne was conquest. Each of the gods was primeval on their own world, but each also desired Tirlar. Such irony, that each of the Irdia desired most the treasure which had been forged equally, as if they recognised the wisdom of Eiseamlar’s design. Truth be told, each merely desired to extend their uncontested domain. Since they had found in past times that their divine powers could not afford them such dominion, it was these elemental legions instead which they charged with their quest.

The Duilne quickly adopted a veneer of civilization, although it was of a martial flavour. They also adopted the manners of their Irdia creators, and venerated them. With the aid of the Irbegdia, they fashioned cities and great temples to pay homage to the Irdé which gave them life. After a time, as the Duilne came into maturity, their own leaders began to emerge. There were precious few scholars or sages and many more generals and warlords, and the former were present in the main because of the pity of the Irbegdia, who were bound to carry out their overlord’s orders but did not completely agree.

When they judged that their Duilne were ready for the war which they desired, the Irdia opened the gates from each of their own worlds to Tirlar. From Meiridos spilled the Tineduilne, sounding their grand march upon their horns of brass. From Relgann the Gaothduilne rode forth on steeds of the wind itself, the chimes of ivory upon their battle standards lending an eerie quality to their charge. From Tylmarinn came the Uisceduilne in their chariots which treated land and water the same, beating drums with tones as deep as the seas. From Eochar came the Salduilne, bearing hammers and shields, and their march was silent.
These armies swept all in their wake, causing the animals to flee ahead of them and the trees to shiver in fear. After three day’s march, the four armies met on the same plain where the four Irdia had met millennia ago. This was the nexus of power with which a god could control Tirlar itself and its gates to the four surrounding worlds. The Irdia manifested then, each standing at the head of their army, glaring at their siblings. Spies! Betrayers! Warmongers! These accusations left each divine lip, for they had thought they plotted in secret. Lo, here were their rivals, with armies to match their own. Well, there would be a reckoning! Turning their back upon their traitorous family, the Irdia exhorted their armies to charge, and wipe the offending interlopers from the face of Tirlar.

No army moved. Stoic, they faced their creators. Tineon roared with the fury of a million blazes, Gaother blustered with the rage of a tornado to end worlds, Uisceor grumbled with the anger of the fell creatures of the abyss and Salio said nothing, though her eyes twinkled with the wrath of striking meteors. Still their Duilne stood, unafraid. Then, at once, each army parted down the middle, stepping aside to create a passage.

At the end of each corridor, standing directly in front of the piqued Irdia, stood a figure. These figures bore strange forms, like and yet unlike the Duilne armies that allowed them through. The Irdia beheld them, and they saw the essence of Eiseamlar within these newcomers, just as they saw it in their siblings.

From behind their turned backs there came a voice, speaking the language of a mother addressing her children. It was Eiseamlar, of course. “Behold, my children, I have judged. This world will not be yours, for I have already given it to others. Look upon them, your sisters and brothers, the destined rulers of the heavens and this earth. Faldia, come and meet your family!”

So these strangers walked the paths which the armies had created, and stood before the Irdia. These were the Faldia, the Spirits of Destiny, whom you all know well. But for the benefit of the Irdia, let me introduce them.

Before Tineon, born of the Tineduilne and bearing their fiery heritage, stood Laguna. She shone with the sacred light of all mothers, and her hair was as a flame. The Flamelord looked up, and was aghast to see that the banners and emblems of his people bore the same symbol as this new goddess bore upon a brooch securing her cloak of reddest silk. She met Tineon’s eyes, and spoke, “Flamelord, cousin, war no longer.” Tineon bowed his head, and spoke, “Lady of Life, Mother of All, cousin, I will war no longer.”

Before Uisceor, born of the Uisceduilne and with the tattoos of a wave-tribe upon him, stood Aeon. He was not young, but in his eyes vigour was plain to see. The Waverider felt the mood of his people as a rising tide, which would engulf him if he refused this being, born both of his will and Eiseamlar’s. Aeon spoke, “Waverider, cousin, war no longer.” Uisceor grasped Aeon to his bosom, and spoke, “Lord of Time, cousin, I will war no longer.”

Before Gaother, born of the Gaothduilne and hiding nothing of the essence of both the Worldwind and the Paragon which suffused her, stood Ilass. She was beautiful in a bewitching way, her hair was tossed wildly by the slightest breeze and her skin was as white as the purest clouds. Gaother met her eyes, and she knew fear for the first time, and knew that this goddess wielded power over the Gaothduilne which she might not match. Ilass spoke, “Wildwalker, cousin, war no longer.” Gaother stepped back, and spoke, “Lady of Power, Great Witch, cousin, I will war no longer.”

Before Salio, born of the Salduilne and blatantly the epitome of that people’s quiet majesty and wisdom, stood Utas. His skin was the hue of the stone from which his people came, but his eyes had no one colour, fleeting instead from shade to shade until those who met them were struck with wonder. Salio and Utas stood for the longest time, until the other assembled armies and gods and goddesses feared that there would be war indeed. Finally, Utas spoke, “Gemsmith, She Who Will Raise the Isles, cousin, I have come.” Salio wept, and spoke, “Lord of Wisdom, He Who Will Die, cousin, I welcome you.”

In that moment, as the Irdia acknowledged their brethren, the collected armies of Duilne burst into a triumphant music. The Tineduilne blew their horns of brass in a swooping melody which was upheld by the chimes and drums of the Gaothduilne and Uisceduilne. The Salduilne broke the silence that war had brought upon them and sonorous notes issued forth. The Plain of the Eight Gods was consecrated that day in the conjoined joy of their peoples.

Amidst this elemental concert, the first of its kind on Tirlar or any other world, Eiseamlar raised her arms then, and said, “So the Irdia yield lordship of this world to the Faldia, and we have peace at last. To seal this peace, I deem that the same sacrifice be made of the Faldia as was made of the Irdia.” She clapped her hands, and beside each Faldé now stood three beings. These were the Falbegdia, the servants and children of the Faldia, fostered to ensure peace between the Faldia. Alas, if it were that easy!

To Laguna was given Suainn, Ardescit and Moril. Suainn was the son of Ilass, and his eyes could see all that took place in all of the realms of Eiseamlar, and outside them too, for he knew the secrets of the Worldwind. Ardescit was the son of Utas, and with his help Laguna could hear the birth cries of all of her children, for he could hear the heartbeat of the earth itself, and no heart could hide its secrets from him. Moril was the son of Aeon, sent to lend guidance to the Mother of All when the time came for Aeon to deliver mortality upon her children.

To Aeon was given Broda, Gheitall and Mandorel. Broda was the son of Laguna, given so that the Lord of Time would remember that love was the catalyst of all creation, and to respect it even as his domain sealed its doom. Gheitall was the son of Ilass, and his ability to change his form aided Aeon in his rule, for Gheitall could walk amongst the mortals unseen and know all they knew. Mandorel was the son of Utas, as young as Aeon was old, for the Lord of Wisdom wished to teach his brother of pity and the joy of nurturing the young of all worlds.

To Ilass was given Sceilleann, Toric and Galric. Sceilleann was the son of Utas, and with his wisdom and Ilass’ power many wonderful things were made in the first days of time’s reign. Toric was the son of Laguna, and he taught the Great Witch all she needed to know of secrets of life. Galric was the son of Aeon, and his lessons were of the passage of time and the eventual death of all things.

To Utas was given Cardainn, Amara and Dlithail. Cardainn was the son of Laguna, and Utas instructed him of the Path of Wisdom, so that in later days Cardainn was the wisest of all living beings. Amara was the daughter of Aeon, and she and Utas loved each other with the power of the wildest seas and the heart of the earth. Dlithail was the son of Ilass, and with Utas he tempered power with wisdom and created the laws of the gods by which all mortals are bound.

The new families of the gods were complete. Eiseamlar raised her arms once more, and this time she looked upon the Duilne, whose music suffused what was briefly a battlefield, and now a birthplace of divine mandate. “Children of the Irdia, you have served the purpose I planted within you when your races began. Now, you will have your reward.” She swept her arms wide, and a change came upon all the Duilne. Where before had stood people of fire and earth and water and air, there now stood people of all four elements conjoined. This new race knelt before Paragon and the Faldia and the Irdia. The race of men was born at last.