The Book of Ethērēum
“As you have toiled with shapes in the dark, the light shall bring them color beyond your design.”
- Kéfrē, to Dümǝzid and Mőrdét
The Idle Age
Early mortals first mistook the stars for gods themselves. When the gods revealed themselves to mortals the name was not much changed. Thus Dümǝzid, Kéfrē, and Mőrdét adopted the collective name of Lights in the Dark, or Flitósa-Tanmăǝ in celestial. In truth, the gods are older than the stars themselves.
In the beginning, there was balance and nothing else; creation, consumption, and energy lived in a single moment of empty harmony. Then they split. When balance divided, the infinite Eꞇērēǝm erupted from the spaces between its parts and in the dark were three distinct entities. In modern common they are named Dümǝzid, Mőrdét, and Kéfrē. There was nothing and Dümǝzid wished to fill the void, for they are creation. Their designs were grand and visions far-seeing, yet where there was not, came nothing. Mőrdét hungered greatly, for they are consumption. They scoured the ever-expanding Eꞇērēǝm for something to consume, yet where there is not, comes nothing. Kéfrē drifted through the endless void, in themself at ease and wholly disinterested in the disquiet of their kin, for they are energy.
Time passed in the darkness.
Dümǝzid could not understand Kéfrē’s ease in the void, as they searched tirelessly for a spark with which to realize their visions. Mőrdét, however, knew the nature of Kéfrē and hungered for their energy. There have perhaps been instances when Mőrdét consumed Kéfrē in this age–such darkness would be ever-lasting–however, in this instance, a thought interrupted Mőrdét’s hunger and they began to plot. Time had turned Dümǝzid's curiosity to frustration as they gazed across the edge of the unfolding void, demanding it produce something beyond themselves. Mőrdét was there to comfort them, and convinced Dümǝzid that Kéfrē held the answer. Together they convinced Kéfrē to bring light to the darkness and Kéfrē sparked the stars into existence. The long dark became alight with energy as stardust permeated the void.
Dümǝzid fashioned the first worlds from stardust radiating off Kéfrē’s stars; they were gas giants. Principle among them was Celéstis, still the sacred seat of divine power in the Eꞇērēǝm. Notable is another known by Ꞇőläp si Hwēn scholars as Pȃrdētӓ; it is there that Dümǝzid first tested their grand vision for existence. For eons Dümǝzid toiled over their physical creations until attempting to create sentient life; many worlds were created and destroyed. Mőrdét basked in the success of their ploy, consuming vast amounts of energy from the new-born stars and Dümǝzid's novice creations. Kéfrē drifted easily through the brightened void, content that his kin were assuaged and disinterested in their early toils.
Time passed in the light.
Age of Origin
The Age of Origin began when Dümǝzid drew sentience into the Eꞇērēǝm in the form of giants, the first mortals, and made for them a home, the world Magnăüs. Dümǝzid had done their work well; the giants were strong, wise, and long lived. They quickly outgrew their homeworld and spread in great numbers across many more. The Eꞇērēǝm was constant no-longer, and Mőrdét grew jealous of Dümǝzid’s influence upon its change. They yearned for Dümǝzid's power to create and convinced Kéfrē to birth an artifact that would allow Mőrdét to limitedly mimic that power. Kéfrē made the first Life-Stone, Üseꞇcän, meaning “father to the rest” in modern common, in much the same way they made the stars, and gifted it to Mőrdét. With it Mőrdét created the world Ümbrőcǝs, its orbiting moons, and, in time, filled it with fiendish imitations of Dümǝzid's sentient creations.
The Origin War began as the gods struggled to contend with their creations, most of all the giants. Too powerful and too many, had Dümǝzid made them. Mőrdét had long been jealous of Dümǝzid’s creations and sought an army of their own to punish the uppity mortals. Dümǝzid was moved by their hungry kin to craft a new form of life; together they designed divine soldiers to fight until eternity if called upon. Kéfrē watched from the edge of the universe, detached from the folly of their kin; yet the stars were made, and Dümǝzid had learned much from them. Where there is, something always remains.
These divine soldiers have been given many names. Theologians worship them as Origin Gods, scholars study them as demi-gods, but to Flitósa-Tanmăǝ they are children and so many call them Cemünꞇél, meaning “children of the gods” in celestial. Dümǝzid pulled the first of their children from the heart of a star, Adämēǝ. Mőrdét bore witness and took heed; they pulled the second-born from Üseꞇcän, Crēelӓ. From the hearts of stars Dümǝzid also bore Sővelis, Dőrkärin, Seräfēn, Sälǝmac, Arümǝwӓn, Bőgänē, and Ērsü. From Üseꞇcän Mőrdét also bore Alzálxǝbӓn, Năsiꞇ, Grrrǝmmbǝlhīst, Gärgőraʂ, and Zéd. With these new celestial warriors, the gods set upon the rebellious mortals with new strength. The Kingdom of Giants spanned many worlds, and the war became life for untold generations of their kind. Cemünꞇél are long to fall and will always return to revisit the descendants of their ends. Stars dimmed by the end of The Origin War; the gods and their children were victorious. Mőrdét wanted to destroy the last of the giants, but Dümǝzid still loved them. They had mercy on the mortals, casting the survivors far across the young worlds of the Eꞇērēǝm, so that none could hear another and gather in enough strength to threaten the gods ever again.
The end of the Origin Wars is only the beginning of everything else. When the first of Cemünꞇél’s ranks fell to the giants, Flitósa-Tanmăǝ wept for they knew not of their own hands. Their blood became rivers of new things even Dümǝzid had not foreseen, as mortal life rose from their children’s ashes. Humanoid life born of stardust, uniquely manifested. Where there is, something always remains. Cemünꞇél do not truly die when they are felled; their stardust is dispersed, settling in the celestial bodies built by Flitősa-Tӓnmăǝ and fertilizing such places with unique mortal life. Each mortal bears a morsel of their Origin God’s stardust, one’s säwōle (soul), and returns it upon death, as a drop of water runs into a pool. In this way, in some way, we mortals all have the potential for divinity.
The Origin Wars had changed the Eꞇērēǝm; it was no longer the still canvas, but a wild running of color untethered to the brush of those who had begun the thing. Dümǝzid, and indeed Mőrdét, saw the uncontrolled nature of their creations and sought it undone. They then called to Kéfrē at Eꞇērēǝm’s edge, chasing the yet to be stars. The two beseeched the one to undo their works, so that stars no longer lit the blank space. Yet where there is, something always remains.
“As you have toiled with shapes in the dark, the light shall bring them color beyond your design.” This Kéfrē told his kin.
Kéfrē’s gaze was then cast upon the made Eꞇērēǝm for the first time since setting their course along its expanding edge. There they saw their light reflected in Dümǝzid’s and Mőrdét’s creations as color in flux. The irregular dancing spectrums of light created a silent ethereal orchestra that drew Kéfrē finally and forever inward. Kéfrē saw the lives of mortals as dazzling color, refracting the light of the stars in an ever changing and expanding landscape not but they could inflict. Kéfrē’s gaze would forever be cast upon the light hence, and reflected back was fear. Not the fear of mortals, but the fear of Flitősa-Tӓnmăǝ. So ended the Age of Origin.
Celestial Civil War
Dümǝzid and Mőrdét could not see the color reflected in Kéfrē’s light: they only saw the Eꞇērēǝm slipping from their control. When Kéfrē would not darken the stars, Dümǝzid and Mőrdét fashioned their own solutions for the new Eꞇērēǝm. Dümǝzid began creating worlds for his children’s spawn, instructing his children to raise them in their own names, but for creation’s purpose. Mőrdét shepherded their imitations to Ümbrőcǝs and used Üseꞇcän to build a great fortress across its face. They would make moons to orbit the dark homeworld: domains to offer Mőrdét’s loyal followers, and tools of their dominion. From there Mőrdét launched a campaign of destruction across the Eꞇērēǝm to reign in the growth of mortal life. As Mőrdét’s path of destruction approached Dümǝzid’s domain, they met for the first time in anger. Thus began The Celestial Civil War.
An eon of ensuing conflicts saw the making and unmaking of dozens of worlds, and the rise and fall of countless mortal civilizations amidst the chaos. More Cemünꞇél fell in this conflict than even the giants had felled in The Origin War. Kéfrē wept for their role in the abating of color in the Eꞇērēǝm. It was their gift that Mőrdét now wielded so relentlessly against creation, Üseꞇcän. Every weapon Dümǝzid wrought against Mőrdét would be matched by thing, the grand stalemate’s permanence felt most by the mortals below. Kǝʂän bore witness to the power of such weapons; it was the last meeting of such powers. Ꞇőläp si Hwēn scholars named these celestial weapons; Ēr-fănen, the ‘sacred tool’ in the hands of Dümǝzid, and Lēr-wüyăsǝ, the ‘sorrowful weapon’ in the hands of Mőrdét. Late in the Celestial Civil Wars, Dümǝzid and Mőrdét’s children met in immortal combat on the made-for-purpose battlefield of Kǝʂän. There the Ēr-fănen and Lēr-wüyăsǝ met in a cacophony of light that to Kéfrē’s eyes seemed for an instant to blot out the Eꞇērēǝm. Kǝʂän lay broken and upon it the gods’ children. For a moment in the Eꞇērēǝm the three were alone again, above mortals, yet there was no balance. Kéfrē had gifted Mőrdét the tools of this reaping Üseꞇcän, and until it was recovered there would be no balance. Kéfrē then went to Dümǝzid as an ally against Mőrdét and together the two defeated the one; Mőrdét was banished to their fortress on Ümbrőcǝs, marking the end of The Celestial Civil War and the systematic destruction of mortals across the Eꞇērēǝm.
After Mőrdét’s defeat, Kéfrē reclaimed their fell gift, Üseꞇcän, and shattered it into as many shards of light as there were stars in the void. These, Kéfrē cast across the many worlds of the Eꞇērēǝm, planting seeds of Üseꞇcän where mortals might find them and be granted a breath of the power of the gods. Mortals call these Life-Stones; blessed be their bearers. Divided so, Üseꞇcän was reduced, yet intact; Kéfrē took the father of Life-Stones to the farthest reaches of the Eꞇērēǝm where Mőrdét, and indeed Dümǝzid, would not find it and repeat the folly of The Celestial Civil War. What Kéfrē refused their kin, they left for mortals. Life-Stones are not only blessings of power, but blessings of sight; the blessed may see the path to the father of them all and claim that old tool of mortal ends.
The light dims, yet by the Light we are still saved.
Thőläp si Hwēn Scholarly Remarks
“What is stardust but potential energy? [...] Dümǝzid, Mőrdét, and Kéfrē are ALL energy, in varying states. We must hold them as no more than extreme concentrations of the stuff if we are to conceptualize the truth of the Eꞇērēǝm.”
- Dayereth Amastacia, 8 BR
“This is where we toil for our gains before we are taken. They who made me may only claim what is left, for what I am hence is mine own bearing.”
- Khadija Zeinab, 2378 BR