A Short History of Everything
I'll write this entry a bit differently. I've shared the information here many times, and often in the form of a story. As such, I'll tell it like a story again.
There was nothing but time. Minutes passed into hours, hours into days; however, there was nothing to experience the passing of moments, and so time had no meaning. Despairing at this, time began to create so that it might be experienced. And so a world was born with plants and animals upon it, and people as well. One person upon the world had a special gift - a special connection to time and existence leading him to grow in power and wisdom. This man ascended beyond mortality and became a god, personifying time and thus all things of that world - all that was static, all that was fluid, creation, destruction, nobility and evil, and so on, great and lesser things alike. He was the Master of the realm and all that existed within it.
While the Master embodied all that existed, there was, in a way, more than what existed. When there became that which did exist, there also became that which did not. That which did not exist, the emptiness and nothingness that was outside of the world, found extant things abhorrent. This nothing attacked the world, and its effect was grievous. A family, for example, might have lived upon the banks of a river, and upon waking one day they would find the river not just gone, but to have never existed in the first place. The river itself wasn't all that was gone - the very notion of rivers had been destroyed. What then of the pier they fished off of or the ferry they operated? What sense could those make?
And thus existence itself was undone by an enemy that didn't exist. Fighting a terrible foe is difficult enough, but fighting a foe that cannot truly be comprehended or understood, an enemy that simply wasn't, was beyond any normal man or woman of that realm. It fell to the god of that place to defend it, but even he was a poor match. In the end he stood defiantly atop the remains of the grandest mountain, the last place left, and fought as hard as he could. Thrice he fell, and thrice was he reborn to fight again. Finally, he was struck a slight, glancing blow, but it was a mortal blow, for poisonous doubt crept into his mind, and so he was defeated. He was struck a final time, but as he fell he did something incredible - he burned the doubt from his mind and struck a final blow against the nothingness, a blow that defeated it. He named it. He named that which did not exist, and in so doing, forced it, in a manner, to exist. The nothingness recoiled in pain, horror, and defeat, but before it was finished it lashed out to take the Master. The Master cast away his eight artifacts - the sword, the lance, the shield, the armor, the candle, the book, the amulet, and the scroll - away and outside of existence and non-existence altogether, and he was taken into the corruption. The nothingness receded then, leaving nothing but ash and that one last mountain, the broken remains of the world.
Existence had essentially ended. There was the barren shell of the world, waiting for even the dust to fade away, and all else was just a great emptiness. Time itself had been consumed when the Master was taken, and now existence was like a painting of a corpse, dead, yet unchanging. Eventually, though, something else appeared - the candle. That rogue of an artifact had returned, and with light and song birthed time anew. A new realm was made, but there were many changes. The world was broken up into several realms - one of mortals, one of fae, and there were many others, each a different balance of the various elements of creation. This new order extended to those ingredients of creation as well, breaking them up. Worlds contained fire and earth and dream and reason and many other things, but they drew these things from outside of themselves, from realms made entirely of that thing - a world that was a vast expanse of fire in all its forms and meanings, another that was an infinite ocean, and so on. Even time itself was changed. There would never again be one personification of it, but rather a great host of lords in council, they and their forces eternally vigilant against the corruption of the nothingness outside. It was a complicated and difficult world, but clarity had been sacrificed for security, and nothingness would never again find such an easy target.
On this world a first civilization awoke. A faultless and innocent people, the ogre magi were perfectly in-tune with the earth beneath their toes, the heavens above their heads, and the spirits all around. Their cities were wondrous, made as they were not only of crystal, but of emotion and thought and magic too. Gold, platinum, and precious jewels lay beside the streets, so plentiful that they held no value. The people were harmonious, honoring their world and each other, living their guileless lives with sincerity and purity. In time, though, the nothingness returned and chose to attack them, hoping to birth the corrupted Master onto this world.
The nothingness found assault far more difficult than before, but it eventually found a way - it corrupted one of their chieftains. These people knew not how to respond. They knew nothing of evil or dissonance, and trusted that their leader's dark deeds were in their best interests. Death and defilement seemed inevitable, if only they could realize it. They were saved, to a degree, when their great khan came into possession of a scroll - the same scroll that had been the Master's. The scroll sacrificed itself and gave great power to the khan, changing him into a being of the world itself, reminiscent of how the master personified the earlier world. The khan had far less power than the Master, of course, and it was all he could do to seal away the corruption in a prison of perfect jade. The evil was sealed away and in time faded, but the ogre magi now knew evil and descended into barbarism.
The ogres fell, as all eventually do, but in time others rose. It came to pass that elves and dwarves walked the land and matured into the stewards of the world above and below. There was a third group as well - the young and directionless tribes of humans. Thus were the inhabitants of the world when the nothingness and corruption came again.
The corruption tried a new tactic, releasing two champions upon the world. These champions were dread things, having been born of the Master. The Master's very dedication had been taken from him and remade as a thing of evil focus, a tireless and mighty hunter that never could stay defeated. The Master's legacy had been taken too, turned into a being of invincible golden metal that moved so quickly as to be invisible, and rather than inspiring people it enslaved them in metal shells in imitation of itself.
These "children" of the Master made war upon the elves and dwarves, and their wrath was terrible. Faced with foes that either couldn't be destroyed or reformed short moments after defeat, the good people fought a hopeless battle. Salvation came from without once again, as the sword of the Master returned to existence. The sword, however, could not be wielded, so it gave instruction to the dwarves and the elves. The dwarves were given great skill in the molding of metal, and forged an incredible sword at the artifact's instruction. The elves gained a new mastery of magic, and enchanted the weapon beyond anything ever imagined. Thus was a mighty and singular weapon made, but its makers were puzzled, for none of them could wield such a thing. Indeed, it was to be wielded by a human of proper ability and noble spirit, for only humans could heft such a sword in battle. The humans chose one among them and named him king, and he took the weapon to war. As battle with the Master's children was joined, the Master's sword gave of itself, empowering the weapon further, and when the king swung, the blade severed the possibilities that were untrue, and the children were defeated. They fled, diminished, weak, and broken, and were unable to act until many ages had passed, stirring again only to prepare for the third of their kind.
And so existence was safeguarded a second time, and time passed as it always had and always would. The three peoples forgot their pasts, and alliances fell and the empires waned. The dwarves and humans, short-lived and passionate, had many kingdoms and thane-doms that rose and fell, and they started anew many times, but the elves, patient and deliberate, had only one new kingdom. This new kingdom endured and thrived, giving example and purpose to all those around them, and was, for a time, the glory of the goodly peoples of the world. It was in this kingdom that a young elf was born, an elf who would one day say the right thing at the right time and in so doing would defeat the children, would lead an army of existence itself to destroy the corrupted Master, and would purify and resurrect the Master to make a new world.
~A
There was nothing but time. Minutes passed into hours, hours into days; however, there was nothing to experience the passing of moments, and so time had no meaning. Despairing at this, time began to create so that it might be experienced. And so a world was born with plants and animals upon it, and people as well. One person upon the world had a special gift - a special connection to time and existence leading him to grow in power and wisdom. This man ascended beyond mortality and became a god, personifying time and thus all things of that world - all that was static, all that was fluid, creation, destruction, nobility and evil, and so on, great and lesser things alike. He was the Master of the realm and all that existed within it.
While the Master embodied all that existed, there was, in a way, more than what existed. When there became that which did exist, there also became that which did not. That which did not exist, the emptiness and nothingness that was outside of the world, found extant things abhorrent. This nothing attacked the world, and its effect was grievous. A family, for example, might have lived upon the banks of a river, and upon waking one day they would find the river not just gone, but to have never existed in the first place. The river itself wasn't all that was gone - the very notion of rivers had been destroyed. What then of the pier they fished off of or the ferry they operated? What sense could those make?
And thus existence itself was undone by an enemy that didn't exist. Fighting a terrible foe is difficult enough, but fighting a foe that cannot truly be comprehended or understood, an enemy that simply wasn't, was beyond any normal man or woman of that realm. It fell to the god of that place to defend it, but even he was a poor match. In the end he stood defiantly atop the remains of the grandest mountain, the last place left, and fought as hard as he could. Thrice he fell, and thrice was he reborn to fight again. Finally, he was struck a slight, glancing blow, but it was a mortal blow, for poisonous doubt crept into his mind, and so he was defeated. He was struck a final time, but as he fell he did something incredible - he burned the doubt from his mind and struck a final blow against the nothingness, a blow that defeated it. He named it. He named that which did not exist, and in so doing, forced it, in a manner, to exist. The nothingness recoiled in pain, horror, and defeat, but before it was finished it lashed out to take the Master. The Master cast away his eight artifacts - the sword, the lance, the shield, the armor, the candle, the book, the amulet, and the scroll - away and outside of existence and non-existence altogether, and he was taken into the corruption. The nothingness receded then, leaving nothing but ash and that one last mountain, the broken remains of the world.
Existence had essentially ended. There was the barren shell of the world, waiting for even the dust to fade away, and all else was just a great emptiness. Time itself had been consumed when the Master was taken, and now existence was like a painting of a corpse, dead, yet unchanging. Eventually, though, something else appeared - the candle. That rogue of an artifact had returned, and with light and song birthed time anew. A new realm was made, but there were many changes. The world was broken up into several realms - one of mortals, one of fae, and there were many others, each a different balance of the various elements of creation. This new order extended to those ingredients of creation as well, breaking them up. Worlds contained fire and earth and dream and reason and many other things, but they drew these things from outside of themselves, from realms made entirely of that thing - a world that was a vast expanse of fire in all its forms and meanings, another that was an infinite ocean, and so on. Even time itself was changed. There would never again be one personification of it, but rather a great host of lords in council, they and their forces eternally vigilant against the corruption of the nothingness outside. It was a complicated and difficult world, but clarity had been sacrificed for security, and nothingness would never again find such an easy target.
On this world a first civilization awoke. A faultless and innocent people, the ogre magi were perfectly in-tune with the earth beneath their toes, the heavens above their heads, and the spirits all around. Their cities were wondrous, made as they were not only of crystal, but of emotion and thought and magic too. Gold, platinum, and precious jewels lay beside the streets, so plentiful that they held no value. The people were harmonious, honoring their world and each other, living their guileless lives with sincerity and purity. In time, though, the nothingness returned and chose to attack them, hoping to birth the corrupted Master onto this world.
The nothingness found assault far more difficult than before, but it eventually found a way - it corrupted one of their chieftains. These people knew not how to respond. They knew nothing of evil or dissonance, and trusted that their leader's dark deeds were in their best interests. Death and defilement seemed inevitable, if only they could realize it. They were saved, to a degree, when their great khan came into possession of a scroll - the same scroll that had been the Master's. The scroll sacrificed itself and gave great power to the khan, changing him into a being of the world itself, reminiscent of how the master personified the earlier world. The khan had far less power than the Master, of course, and it was all he could do to seal away the corruption in a prison of perfect jade. The evil was sealed away and in time faded, but the ogre magi now knew evil and descended into barbarism.
The ogres fell, as all eventually do, but in time others rose. It came to pass that elves and dwarves walked the land and matured into the stewards of the world above and below. There was a third group as well - the young and directionless tribes of humans. Thus were the inhabitants of the world when the nothingness and corruption came again.
The corruption tried a new tactic, releasing two champions upon the world. These champions were dread things, having been born of the Master. The Master's very dedication had been taken from him and remade as a thing of evil focus, a tireless and mighty hunter that never could stay defeated. The Master's legacy had been taken too, turned into a being of invincible golden metal that moved so quickly as to be invisible, and rather than inspiring people it enslaved them in metal shells in imitation of itself.
These "children" of the Master made war upon the elves and dwarves, and their wrath was terrible. Faced with foes that either couldn't be destroyed or reformed short moments after defeat, the good people fought a hopeless battle. Salvation came from without once again, as the sword of the Master returned to existence. The sword, however, could not be wielded, so it gave instruction to the dwarves and the elves. The dwarves were given great skill in the molding of metal, and forged an incredible sword at the artifact's instruction. The elves gained a new mastery of magic, and enchanted the weapon beyond anything ever imagined. Thus was a mighty and singular weapon made, but its makers were puzzled, for none of them could wield such a thing. Indeed, it was to be wielded by a human of proper ability and noble spirit, for only humans could heft such a sword in battle. The humans chose one among them and named him king, and he took the weapon to war. As battle with the Master's children was joined, the Master's sword gave of itself, empowering the weapon further, and when the king swung, the blade severed the possibilities that were untrue, and the children were defeated. They fled, diminished, weak, and broken, and were unable to act until many ages had passed, stirring again only to prepare for the third of their kind.
And so existence was safeguarded a second time, and time passed as it always had and always would. The three peoples forgot their pasts, and alliances fell and the empires waned. The dwarves and humans, short-lived and passionate, had many kingdoms and thane-doms that rose and fell, and they started anew many times, but the elves, patient and deliberate, had only one new kingdom. This new kingdom endured and thrived, giving example and purpose to all those around them, and was, for a time, the glory of the goodly peoples of the world. It was in this kingdom that a young elf was born, an elf who would one day say the right thing at the right time and in so doing would defeat the children, would lead an army of existence itself to destroy the corrupted Master, and would purify and resurrect the Master to make a new world.
~A