AN ACCOUNT OF THE FIRST CREATION
Text continued from: section one
The “Lost Age” or “Lost Epoch” came prior to the rest of creation. Az formed a land of primeval beauty and piquant idealism, casting the founding pillars of his creation, which was to follow, in a place known only as the Dreamlands. Ehrimon, brother of Az, corrupted half the Dreamlands into a dark land of horror and strangeness known as the Shadowlands in an attempt to dominate the creation of Az. But for all his power, he could not bring the Dreamlands under his rule and so he destroyed them. By this very act, he made the first creation into a memory—a dream—rendering them immune to his own powers of destruction.
However, the ideals of that first creation survived. Life, beauty, earth, water, stars, angels, and every other component of existence developed by Az during the Lost Age were preserved by Az for all ages to follow as the Dreamlands, forever severed from temporal and spacial reality, but at the same time eternal, ruled by the god-king Somnus. The creatures and races first created by Az during the Lost Age were able to find the Dreamlands through sleep and dreams. Humans are one of these races, though finding the Dreamlands is a rare and difficult achievement, normally accomplished only a handful of times during the life of a common man, who often will not even remember the event in the waking world.
Jastinna, the first being created by Az, is the scribe of creation. She is a life-goddess, who draws upon the senses of all living things to record the activities of creation. During the First Age, when life spread from the Dreamlands into reality (also known as the “second creation” of Az), Jastinna was able to observe the unfolding of events there as well. The emanations of life, an energy called anima, spread through the multiverse, and by this energy Jastinna records the progression of creation. However, tainted by the touch of Ehrimon’s corruption during the Lost Epoch, anima also carries with it corruption, a dark side, the energy of death as well as life.
Oneiron, a wizard-vizier to King Somnus, detected Jastinna’s ability to project herself into the later ages of creation and was envious of her great power and of her knowledge of things beyond the Dreamlands. He set his mind to harnessing the magical energies radiated by the river Haoma, which divides the Dreamlands into the Lands of Shadow and the Lands Eternal. Using this dream-radiation, called soma, Oneiron developed dream-magicks, which enabled him to travel to and from the Dreamlands in the form of a dream, contacting and influencing those races and things native to the Lost Age which were to appear in later ages. Humans, being natives of the Dreamlands, were destined to become one of his frequent targets, from whom he gathered information not meant for those of the Dreamlands.
Hypnos, another vizier to the king, and priest of Az, discovering the machinations of Oneiron, brought the matter to the attention of King Somnus. Somnus considered Oneiron’s clandestine research of dream-magic a betrayal. He banished Oneiron to the Shadowlands and, for his loyalty, established Hypnos as lord of the Lands Eternal (the brighter half of the Dreamlands, you might say). Oneiron used his dream-magic to take for himself lordship of the Shadowlands, conjuring dreams of fear and lust with which to influence the minds of those he could reach by means of his dream-magic, which was developed and expanded upon to be known in later times as Oneiromancy.
As a result of Oneiron’s machinations, humans began appearing in the Dreamlands from later ages. Some arrived in fear of Oneiron’s dreams to serve as his thralls. Some came seeking after Oneiron’s promises of power or pleasure. Others arrived on dream-quests, seeking out King Somnus himself to plead for answers to the meanings of their dreams. Somnus was greatly disturbed by the unexpected appearance of mortal travellers, but also sympathetic to their plight. He was further angered by the intrigues of Oneiron. In response, he granted Hypnos leave to send his own dreams to the mortal realms to counter those sent by Oneiron. To gifted mortal travellers, Somnus taught the art of Oneiromancy, which humans could grasp, themselves a race from the Lost Epoch. Oneiron was furious at the dissemination of Oneiromancy to those in the waking world and devised nightmares to do his bidding and bring horror to the Dreamlands.
Following Ehrimon’s destruction of the Dreamlands, Az endeavored to craft the second creation, a limitless realm of earth and water, air and fire, summoned and woven from the energy of aeon with the harmonies of creation. To aid in this endeavor, he formed the archangels, known as the elohim, beings of tremendous power, invested with the ability to manipulate aeon to shape reality. I was one of these first beings, and we formed the land and the seas together, each of the elohim contributing our separate genius to the collective wonder of creation, and as the lands spread before us, we shared in the discovery of what was possible. We were the creators.
Ehrimon had the power of destruction, but not creation. He could not manipulate aeon as the elohim could. Instead, he determined to warp and defile creation with ubilaz: the breath of corruption. With it he withered forests and scarred the land, he poisoned water and mutilated creatures. Even the elohim were not beyond his power, and those of us who fell beneath his grasp he tortured into grotesque shapes, twisting not only our bodies, but our minds and spirits as well. The corrupted elohim, once beings of beauty and harmony, became known as the shayatin, the dark angels. Our song, once a symphony of harmonic power, became instead discordia. What had been beautiful became ugly, fearful, and dire. We found that we were able only to unmake creation, to disrupt it, to warp it. No longer could we share in the creator’s plan—we, the abandoned of Az. Time could be distorted, shapes could be twisted, but no longer could we create.
Az was greatly angered by the defilement of his creation and war was the result: The War Incipiens. The artist decided he would protect his wall from being painted black, and battle was joined between the archangels of Az and Ehrimon’s shayatin. Brother slew brother. In the archangels, we saw what we had lost and lashed out in despair and regret. In so doing, we realized the immensity of our power. Ehrimon reveled in the slaughter, not to be equaled in devastation. In our pride and hatred, we transformed the beauty of that second creation into endless layers of misery and gloom, desolate fields of ice and fire, infinite planes of rot and ash. The devastation we wrought was entire. All of creation burned.
From horizon to horizon, the lands of creation lay corrupted and destroyed. But Az raised his voice in a new song. It was glorious. It was triumphant. Ehrimon’s host stood dumbfounded. The sense that we, the angels of darkness, had overcome the armies of light and had been proven the masters of war was at once thoroughly dispelled by that soaring, victorious voice. It split the skies and above us new vistas of perfection, order, and harmony appeared—a billion new worlds, as many as we had finished destroying. It was as if the war had never been fought. The joy and relief in the eyes of our enemies asphyxiated our gloating. All the shayatin smoldered with hatred and disbelief. Az called his host to him, where he stood overlooking the wasted lands which once we all had built together. His elohim rose into the Heavens with him, all but Semyaza and the Watchers.
I remember Az calling down to him. But Semyaza only looked up into the brilliant, expanding Heavens. The music of creation cascading down upon our heads was unspeakable—full of promise and grandeur undreamed. There were the explosions of nascent galaxies and the glow of vast nebulae streaked across the skies beyond the receding host of angels, and the voice of Az recalled his grace and compassion and the memories of our time together, and our souls were ripped asunder at the thought of our coming eternity of separation from our maker. This is the truth of which no shayatin will speak. The sight of Az alone blinded us as if a storm of light was raining into our eyes.
Semyaza cast his eyes down upon us, a host of vile degeneration, of pride and sloth and hatred. “There must be one who stays,” said Semyaza. He unsheathed his sword and spread his wings out full and, from his perch above the field of battle, plunged like a comet of white light.
“So be it,” said Az, turning his attention on his brother. “You are master of the netherworld now, Ehrimon. You and your shayatin shall shape its lands and warp its blackened walls forever. There you shall remain, to know what your evil has wrought. The Heavens shall be a shared dominion, shaped by the symphony of life sung by the many angels, a place of peace and hope for those who earn their place. These lands you have desecrated and defiled will be your home—a great abyss of contention, a labyrinth of discord and dissent, and it shall be to you a place of eternal damnation.”
Then Az summoned the aether, a barrier of cold air and empty space, to separate the Heavens from the Hells and shield the planes above from the infernal heat and noxious stench, to which we, even then, were inured. And then I heard his voice one final time. He sang a song that rang terrible and powerful. The sound of crackling filled the cosmos, as a great sheet of earth filled the skies above us, blotting out the light of Heaven, blocking the glow of angels and the piercing light of stars, blackening even the light of Az, sealing us within a darkness complete. The creation of this plane between planes, which came to be called Midaerd – the middle plane – marked the beginning of the Second Age, the Age of Order.
It would be difficult to convey the vast amount of time which the First Age represents and all those things that transpired. It is beyond the ability of the human mind to comprehend it. To attribute the enormity of that expanse of time to a single human age defies reasonability, but for our purpose here it shall suffice. For mankind dwells upon itself before all else. So much the better.
Return to: section one
Continue to: section three