I am writing an 11-book series that takes place in a made-up realm. This is the story of its creation.
In the beginning, there was One, and that was all. Time did not exist. Nothing existed but the One who always existed, still exists, and always will exist. This One was before all time and is separate from time. This One has no cause, for the One Is. The One is the cause of all things.
The One decided to create, for the One said to Himself, “It is good to make beings to worship Us and to love.” And at that moment the One decided that there was such a thing as good, and that there could be an absence of good, and it was so. And so the difference between good and evil began.
Then out of nothing the One created beings of lesser nature than the One. For their inhabitance, the One formed an expanse in the middle of nothingness, a realm which in the latter days was called “ierah” or “îrah”. The One gathered all the beings together and sang a beautiful song over them. The Song of the One gave the beings life.
Thus time began.
The beings learned language from the One, and they called themselves “Thaliel,” which is approximate to “indrê” in Maraian, “korquai” in Izyphorn [and “star” in English]. The One, they called “Antrabilgathaluman,” which has no equivalent in any language known to mortals.
The realm that existed was spiritual in nature, being not physical but inhabited by souls.
There were multitudes of Thaliel. Always, they served the One, singing songs of joy and praise and love.
Now, there were three Thaliel who gained great favor in the eyes of the One. These were the three who formed the upper order of Thaliel. The One loved them dearly and gave them places of great power. They were called Níaille, Ilaiadt, and Rœindrêh by the Maraians; but the greatest of them was Rœindrêh. The One loved him like a son and made him second to none but the One.
The One was not yet finished creating. So the One sang a song, and the Thaliel listened. And lo, it was so beautiful that, though they knew not death, the Thaliel felt that they could no longer go on living, so great was its beauty, purity, holiness, and power. And behold, as the One sang, out of ierah, the spiritual, in its midst was formed Orrock, the physical, and many other, less glorious lands besides.
Antrabilgathaluman made Rœindrêh lord of Orrock, the most magnificent planet of all. Orrock was at this time smooth of surface and cylindrical of shape; but at its ends it was attached to ierah, and a strange and wonderful phenomenon occurred. The Thaliel could leave the spiritual and experience the physical, though they themselves remained spiritual in nature. And Orrock was smooth and featureless, and none bethought themselves of what was at its center. (There is nothing, it is a void—but not the Void. It is empty; but it has always been shrouded in mystery, since, as it will be told in proper time, âvenah took up residence there and made it his abode.)
Through the power given him by the One, Rœindrêh sculpted the surface of Orrock into glorious landscapes of soil and rock, with high, rugged mountains and wide, smooth plains, with great caves decorated in formations of rock and plateaus covered with awesome carvings. He then added living plants of many kinds, by the permission and gift of the One. He formed giant trees and tiny flowers, and he covered Orrock with life by the gift of the One. The likeness of such beauty has only been seen once since then, and not until the End will it be seen again.
Roeindree had everything the One, called Aia by the Maraians, could give him, for Aia loved him as a son, but two things he could not have. Aia would not bestow upon him the power to give life, nor would He allow praise to be shown to Roeindree. For an age, Roeindree watched all the Thaliel come and sing before Aia. They brought Him gifts that were the work of their hands, and as the age drew on, Roeindree’s jealousy grew, and he kindled envy inside himself.
Therefore Roeindree began to covertly subvert Aia’s authority. In secret, he gathered to himself a following of Thaliel. Through it all, he continued serving Aia with the appearance of fidelity, though sometimes Aia looked at him with deep, silent sorrow, and he knew that Aia knew. But the One did nothing to stop him, so Roeindree’s hatred grew, and he retreated to Orrock and plotted in secrecy.
The day long in coming, the fateful, deplorable day, the day of greatest tragedy and the day of greatest treachery—that day finally came.
Roeindree and his followers went as usual to the presence of Aia. When all the Thaliel were together, they began singing as always. But there was a harsh, off-key note. The Thaliel sang louder to drown it out, but the harsh note grew, and its source became evident: Roeindree and his followers were rebelling. They drowned out the beautiful song with their own words, and the noise was terrible. Those who remained faithful to the One covered their ears and fell to the ground. It was so evil that the Thaliel, who were immortal and knew not the meaning of death, felt the life in them draining away.
Just when it became most unbearable, sudden silence fell—a silence was worse than the song, but not so unbearable that the life in the Thaliel continued to seep out of them. The faithful rose to their feet, and all looked upon Aia, even the rebels, for the silence was not imposed by Roeindree, but by Aia.
The silence stretched on for a year. Not a sound was heard or created, but all watched Aia and were under His gaze.
When at last He spoke, His voice broke the hearts of the faithful. “Roeindree, I made you My son and kept nothing from you but what is Mine alone. Yet you have rebelled, and the first age, the perfect age of the beginning of all, is at an end. Henceforth, the realm of what is, is divided. You have torn perfection.” Here He was silent, and all felt deep sorrow that beauty was permanently marred.
“For three ages, you will be chained to Orrock. The planet that was once your gift is now your prison. Your name is no longer Roeindree, King of the Thaliel, but Aevenah, Wicked Being. As for you, Thaliel who rebelled with him, you are chained to his will. At the end of three ages, you will be thrown into the Void, absolute separation from Me. Then the schism will be complete.”
So Aia threw Aevenah to Orrock, together with his followers. Aevenah in his wrath destroyed all on Orrock which he had been given and made—the plants and the landforms. And Aia covered the planet in a robe of mourning.
All the indree mourned, and no song of joy could be heard in all the realm of what was. Aevenah glowered in Orrock with all his followers around him. Cae-il—He who is Aia and is Spirit—hovered over the surface of the rock like a cloak. There was no light in all the realm, but all mourned. Thus passed the second age.
Then the age drew to an end, and Aia once more wished to create beings to love and be loved by, and to demonstrate to the Thaliel such unfathomable aspects of Himself as His mercy, grace and forgiveness. He said to Himself, “Let us make man, and let us place him on Orrock. He will be for a little while inferior to My Thaliel, but after that he will rule over all the work of My hands.”
So Aia gathered together all the faithful and He began to sing a song so beautiful, the Thaliel wept. Their tears fell on Orrock and covered it with water. Thus the seas were formed.
His song is not recorded here, for its beauty is so great that it would kill a mortal to hear, but it echoes still in creation.
As Aia sang, changes occurred. First, there was light. It lit up Orrock, the other planets, and all the Realm of the physical. Aia saw it was good. The light became separated from darkness, as goodness was separated from its absence, and that, too, was good.
The seas made by the tears of the Thaliel gathered together and dry land emerged. Aia saw that it was good. From the land sprung tiny seedlings which grew at an enormous rate into every plant on the planet. Grasses and small plants spread out across the ground like oil spilled on water, and the trees shot up like lightning, for the soil was young and fresh. He saw that it was good.
The ground began to bulge in various places, and animals burst forth like the plants, breathed in, and separated their limbs from the soil. The seas bubbled, and gave birth to fish, whales, and every kind of sea creature. Small whirlwinds formed in the sky, and out of them came every living thing that flies. And they were good.
Three orbs grew in Ierah, the realm of the spiritual. One was for the day; the two smaller ones were for the night, for He said, “It is not good that the deeds of Aevenah should be hidden while light rests and night reigns. Let Us put in Ierah globes to illuminate all deeds.” He called the first “indree” and the second “jshai.” And it was good.
Then He went down to Orrock and took in His hands the soil He had made. As He sang, He took the soil and split it in two, and from each half he formed a being in His image, and He breathed life into them. Thus the First of the First, Sceorn and Eesorn his wife, first opened their eyes in the presence of the One.
Then He took up more soil, and in the same way fashioned twenty more humans, and He breathed life into them there. He sang to them a blessing, and to them He gave Orrock and all that dwelt within it, in order that they might reign over it in justice.
Aia looked at all He had made, and He saw that it was supremely good. And so His song ended, and He rested.