At the start of the time loop, four gods were created to
balance nature: the god of delight, the god of pity, the god of love and the
god of hate. These four are imbued with the natures of their namesakes:tasked
to balance nature and all of its inhabitants. Ages have passed and little has
changed. The animals rutted and killed. The plants flowered and spread. Finally,
a new kind of beast pulls itself out of the muck and shit and nature itself. It tears itself out of the
very womb of its creation, and it names itself Man.
So vain already, so
charged with the energies of the four gods. Man decided to name every beast,
every plant, every thing that ever was. Man named things that didn't exist,
things that would exist and things that should never exist.
The four gods were pleased with the creature called man. Why wouldn't they be? Man reflected the things that they saw as beautiful. Themselves. Lost in their self-adoration they failed to see a new energy being created.
The four gods were pleased with the creature called man. Why wouldn't they be? Man reflected the things that they saw as beautiful. Themselves. Lost in their self-adoration they failed to see a new energy being created.
Father Light was born.
The Father was an intelligent being: far more intelligent than any of the gods who came before him. Still, he was made up of the four that came before him. His emotions ruled him, and his passions led his hand, his mind, and his magics. He saw himself above all of nature, above man, and infinitely above the four gods. He looked at the god Delight and poured upon him every beautiful image, every sweet sounding tone, every sensational feeling. Light overloaded Delight. What was once his nature became too much, and Delight lost himself in himself. He became a paradox, and was deleted from nature.
The Father was a being far more connected into the energies of pity. He saw into the soul of the Pity and built an everlasting wall. This wall was made out of pity to block pity. The god couldn't understand how what was once its life blood became a clog in its artery. The god Pity destroyed itself with its own energy. Pity shrunk into nothingness.
The god Love, seeing her brothers vanish from existence, hid herself. She hid herself so well that no other being loved. No other could feel desire, could feel wanted: could feel beautiful. The Father feeling this change in nature, poured himself into every being into every plant and rock and molecule of existence. The Father of Light overwrote the god of love. She became useless and sank into stillness.
The god Hate: How he had loathed every other god. Every being, and especially this new god, the god Light. The god Hate rose from his pit, and attacked Father Light directly. What a pitiful excuse for an attack. How can hate destroy love, and delight, and pity. Hate destroyed itself. Hate committed suicide.
Father Light looked on at what he had won and declared himself God. The singular the everlasting, and the most supreme being to ever exist. Then he withdrew from the world he dominated.
Man was shocked from the time of the loveless. Every creature and every being was so close to becoming one. Now so far away: their goal a distance dot in the future: a blessed hope for those who held on. The man who was to be a clown whose image of himself was based on the laughter of others. Based on the pain he induced in himself. He continued to jump, pose, and laugh at himself. He cries himself to sleep every night.
The poet: a man who lived alone, high in the mountains. Tapped into the energies that once existed, he now saw himself as nothing. What could he possibly create how could he express without the four gods? He lost himself in his depression. He drowns in his drink, and his sorrow.
As man grew woman also grew. She grew more powerful more influential than any other of her race. She made herself and remade herself. She becomes the first CEO of an industrial complex. Smog rises in the air, and sludge fills the seas as she pumps out consumer goods for all of her race. So blissful, with all her money, and yet: so alone. No one ever good enough to be with her. She never cries, as she cried too much in her past.
A raving lunatic dances in the streets of Industrial City. Dance is all he has left, as his tongue has been cut out and sold to the highest bidder. Once he was a great philosopher: Philosopher of the four gods. As his time passed, the people turned on him, and they took away what created had him. So he dances, and dances, and dances.
Father Light, God, the one. The only. He does not care for man. As far as he is concerned man should be left to man. Let each be responsible for his own. He is at the cloud level. Waiting for one that is worthy.
The monks of the god Pity still meditate in their monastery. That is all they have left. These monks of pity. They meditate and get nothing in return. They mediate to become nothing, as their god before them. One monk is different than the rest. His job is to feed the other monks. Doomed to be alone while his brothers and sisters meditate themselves into nothingness.
A bard sings his woeful songs. His tunes lose their smiling nature. People continue to stare at him, and that is what he truly wants. Their stares, their attention, and their applause. But no one cheers for a sad song. No one dances for his tunes. He plays to deaf ears, and he is dead inside.
A soldier who fancies himself a historian has burned every bridge he has ever known. So filled with woe, it floods into his works. His histories become works of self absorption. He sublimates himself into his work, and he writes his world into a self-hating machine. He sees into the future of every action and declares it pointless. He declares it not worthy of existence. .It has already been: therefore it should not be again. He is surrounded by friends, and yet ultimately alone.
Finally, the last remaining druid walks from his hallowed wood, and looks upon Industrial city. The birds no longer chirp in this area. They cannot fly. The smog fills their small lungs and they drop dead from the skies. The druid alone, yet in bliss with nature. He waits for the time. The time when he won’t be alone. He waits for the next druid. When he can finally teach what was taught to him.
So we find our armless hero in a meadow by his burning house. The tall grasses lick his shins, the smell of the wood to the distant west is his only company. Industrial city rises like a shadow to the north. Our hero being diagnosed with Bi-Polar disorder by the great wizards of Camah, sets off to balance the universe and meet new people. As his house has been destroyed, he is searching for himself, as well as a new home.
Edited By:
The Father was an intelligent being: far more intelligent than any of the gods who came before him. Still, he was made up of the four that came before him. His emotions ruled him, and his passions led his hand, his mind, and his magics. He saw himself above all of nature, above man, and infinitely above the four gods. He looked at the god Delight and poured upon him every beautiful image, every sweet sounding tone, every sensational feeling. Light overloaded Delight. What was once his nature became too much, and Delight lost himself in himself. He became a paradox, and was deleted from nature.
The Father was a being far more connected into the energies of pity. He saw into the soul of the Pity and built an everlasting wall. This wall was made out of pity to block pity. The god couldn't understand how what was once its life blood became a clog in its artery. The god Pity destroyed itself with its own energy. Pity shrunk into nothingness.
The god Love, seeing her brothers vanish from existence, hid herself. She hid herself so well that no other being loved. No other could feel desire, could feel wanted: could feel beautiful. The Father feeling this change in nature, poured himself into every being into every plant and rock and molecule of existence. The Father of Light overwrote the god of love. She became useless and sank into stillness.
The god Hate: How he had loathed every other god. Every being, and especially this new god, the god Light. The god Hate rose from his pit, and attacked Father Light directly. What a pitiful excuse for an attack. How can hate destroy love, and delight, and pity. Hate destroyed itself. Hate committed suicide.
Father Light looked on at what he had won and declared himself God. The singular the everlasting, and the most supreme being to ever exist. Then he withdrew from the world he dominated.
Man was shocked from the time of the loveless. Every creature and every being was so close to becoming one. Now so far away: their goal a distance dot in the future: a blessed hope for those who held on. The man who was to be a clown whose image of himself was based on the laughter of others. Based on the pain he induced in himself. He continued to jump, pose, and laugh at himself. He cries himself to sleep every night.
The poet: a man who lived alone, high in the mountains. Tapped into the energies that once existed, he now saw himself as nothing. What could he possibly create how could he express without the four gods? He lost himself in his depression. He drowns in his drink, and his sorrow.
As man grew woman also grew. She grew more powerful more influential than any other of her race. She made herself and remade herself. She becomes the first CEO of an industrial complex. Smog rises in the air, and sludge fills the seas as she pumps out consumer goods for all of her race. So blissful, with all her money, and yet: so alone. No one ever good enough to be with her. She never cries, as she cried too much in her past.
A raving lunatic dances in the streets of Industrial City. Dance is all he has left, as his tongue has been cut out and sold to the highest bidder. Once he was a great philosopher: Philosopher of the four gods. As his time passed, the people turned on him, and they took away what created had him. So he dances, and dances, and dances.
Father Light, God, the one. The only. He does not care for man. As far as he is concerned man should be left to man. Let each be responsible for his own. He is at the cloud level. Waiting for one that is worthy.
The monks of the god Pity still meditate in their monastery. That is all they have left. These monks of pity. They meditate and get nothing in return. They mediate to become nothing, as their god before them. One monk is different than the rest. His job is to feed the other monks. Doomed to be alone while his brothers and sisters meditate themselves into nothingness.
A bard sings his woeful songs. His tunes lose their smiling nature. People continue to stare at him, and that is what he truly wants. Their stares, their attention, and their applause. But no one cheers for a sad song. No one dances for his tunes. He plays to deaf ears, and he is dead inside.
A soldier who fancies himself a historian has burned every bridge he has ever known. So filled with woe, it floods into his works. His histories become works of self absorption. He sublimates himself into his work, and he writes his world into a self-hating machine. He sees into the future of every action and declares it pointless. He declares it not worthy of existence. .It has already been: therefore it should not be again. He is surrounded by friends, and yet ultimately alone.
Finally, the last remaining druid walks from his hallowed wood, and looks upon Industrial city. The birds no longer chirp in this area. They cannot fly. The smog fills their small lungs and they drop dead from the skies. The druid alone, yet in bliss with nature. He waits for the time. The time when he won’t be alone. He waits for the next druid. When he can finally teach what was taught to him.
So we find our armless hero in a meadow by his burning house. The tall grasses lick his shins, the smell of the wood to the distant west is his only company. Industrial city rises like a shadow to the north. Our hero being diagnosed with Bi-Polar disorder by the great wizards of Camah, sets off to balance the universe and meet new people. As his house has been destroyed, he is searching for himself, as well as a new home.
Edited By:
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