Books are ordered as such:
Book of Aphorisms
Book of Lessons & Songs
Book of Patron Principles
Book of Origins
Book of Prophecies
Book of Empires
Book of Priests & Kings
Book of Trials
Footnotes
The content is arranged first with the book. Books include a variety of stories from multiple different volumes but are unified by a coherent moral, cosmic, or historical significance that grounds their teachings.
The volume is second, it denotes the divine entity who's centered or "main character" for the chapter. For example, the "Volumes of Ex'Àomë" denotes stories where Ex'Àomë represents the central divine character of the specific section.
Aside from that, additional organizing factors include chapter, line and page.
Chapter is often included after the listed volume but line and page are often omitted unless relevant for sermons.
Line denotes the specific sentence or short-form paragraph.
Page denotes the page number in the book. Lines are consistent but pages can vary depending on the size and font of the book.
A typical heading looks as follows:
"Book; Volume: chapter – Page: Line(s)"
The latter half including page and line is usually omitted for shorter fragments unless it's part of a sermon.
the first three books: Aphorisms, Lessons & Songs, and Patron Principles function as a set of simple lines or phrases taken from longer passages of the book that serve as easy references for keepers (priests), sermon leaders, or laymen.
Later chapters detail events and moral teachings relevant within the larger theology of the faith. Fancier books may sometimes include a list of extra writings by keepers and thinkers who study the book's greater message, typically contained in the Footnotes.
For the sake of simplicity, I shall omit the first three books for the time being as their content can just as easily be found in the later books as well and they're not very relevant in general. This chapter and other auxiliary chapters are subject to occasional additions or changes.
Origins; Volumes of Ex'Àomë: The Argument
It began with the sundering of Being and Abyss
The Deas and Abyssites fell into discord over what should be and what should not be.
Then, Ex'nílë, who was also known as Destiny, commanded:
"All that is shall be.
All that is, is me.
I am King of Abyss.
All there is, is my decree."
But Ex'Àomë rebuked:
"All that is can be.
All that is, is free.
I am King of Being.
All there is, I permit to be."
Thus they parted light from dark, color from colorless, and the manifold from the void. Yet Destiny was not satisfied.
In pursuit of the end, he commands R̄ësha into Being to sow decay.
To aid him, Destiny shaped a weapon which he called fate, and he tethered its threads each to the structure of Being.
But Ex'Àomë overcame this design. For HE took the threads each and tangled them into a great tapestry that could not be unwoven.
Each time, as Destiny sought to unravel the threads, Ex'Àomë would twist them again to keep the fates unmastered.
Seeing this, R̄ësha shaped a new principle from its threads into Being, and this he called Ego.
Again Ex'Àomë answered with creation. HE shaped avatars for each aspect of Being, that Ego might be divided and made coherent.
First, HE made the three vibrancies: Red, Blue, and Green. From which HE perceived the essence.
Then, the three Lusters: Gold, Silver, and Bronze. From which he perceived the material
At last, the two tones: White and Black. From which he perceived the breadth and deepness.
And with these, HE painted Being into forms, and those forms become the Eight Colored Serpents; winged and clawed.
And they were each possessed of creative consciousness, not beholden by any will but their own.
And then Ex'Àomë created ten greater gods to occupy the highest realms of Being, which HE made for HIMSELF as a home.
And to the greater gods and the Eight Colors HE said
"I have given you each the freedom to shape Being as you will.
Yet threads of fate persist within you each.
Through these, Destiny would compel you.
But if this is not your will, then take the threads and weave them as I have done
And for your creations, use my Being as your canvas to paint."
So they drew from each other as base and pigment, and formed a paint unique to themselves and with it fashioned their own realms.
These realms, they populated with lesser gods of their making.
Thus R̄ësha's Ego was thwarted.
The world was ordered not by Destiny's design, but by creative will. For this was the will of Ex'Àomë.
In the days that followed the birthing of Being and making of the gods, Ex'Àomë gathered them.
And HE said, "Come into my KINGDOM. Let us paint the world into something beautiful and ever-lasting."
And the gods, harkening to his call, ascended into the tapestry of fate, which they named the Firmament.
And they set up each their own palaces in HIS realm.
This they called Heaven and made it a paradise for comfort and repose.
Then, in the air, Ex'Àomë took the small tempers and made each little spirits of the world. Who were occupied by a space and sense, but not observed in a physical vessel.
And to these spirits HE gave them a realm and called it Āther.
The spirits beheld one another and came to understand difference.
Thus they became water, wind, fire, and stone. But in this, they still distinguished.
Until Āther had become populated by many spirits both great and small.
At last, Ex'Àomë took these elements and erected a great boundary between Abyss and Being.
This HE called the Terra, and here gathered the physical matter of the world.
From this matter, HE shaped vessels of silver, bronze, and gold. These HE called the archons, dwarves, and elves.
Then, Aezelioth the Blue, Primordial Winged Serpent, beheld these forms and set upon the canvas a stroke of consciousness.
This art HE called the spell, and through it He cast the soul into Being.
And thrice he tried this, and thrice he found it lacking.
First came the archons: rational and profound. But unable to perceive sentience in others.
Second were the elves: graceful and gifted. But bound by attachment and unable to let go.
Third, came the dwarves: masters of craft, yet devoid of passion; able to build, but not paint.
To these threefold follies, Aezelioth lamented.
But THE ONE did not lament. For HE saw within their flaws the potential for greatness.
Into their minds HE placed wisdom to guide their hands and mentor them in the art of existence.
Yet knowing their boundless curiosity, Ex'Àomë foresaw that they would one day reach towards Abyss.
And to warn them, HE created fear.
And then HE gathered the gods to proclaim:
"These beings, who dwell on the Terra as we dwell above, are mine to shepherd.
So long as they seek my guidance, I shall grant it.
And should they ask for salvation with all their heart, I will answer.
Thus I warn you.
Should any of you seek to mislead or compel them, fear that they may call upon me. For I will come."
Origins: Volumes of Asur; the Deceiver
When at last Ex'Àomë had made sense of Being, HE observed that seven days were born in the span of HIS work.
On the last HE reposed to watch his canvas unfold.
But in HIS rest, R̄ësha stepped forth and, in fair form, came before the gods of Heaven.
"Let us not be made as subjects THE ONE'S will.
Do you see how HE hinders you?
How HE limits you here in Being.
For your wants and wishes have been taken, and now contentment arises to chain you all."
And to his words, many gods grew curious. How could they feel chained by their contentment?
And Asur, who was Greater God to the realm of War, was first to contest:
"How can our contentment be a chain?
We have light, color, and manifold bodies.
Anything we wish can be made with a stroke of our brush.
Wherefore then do you say we are limited by this grace?"
To this came the inversion:
"THE ONE has taught you all contentment, and HE has called this creativity.
But in this, HE has told an untruth.
For in Abyss lies appetite and in that, there is no satisfaction.
So it follows that there is no end to your creativity in Abyss.
But in Being, HE has imposed limits on your creative freedom, and called this choice.
I tell you all truly: true freedom is in the realm of Ex'nílë, which HE has robbed you of."
Thus conceived deception, and it fooled many gods.
These gods then R̄ësha persuaded to his cause.
"Come with me to the wall that HE has erected.
Let us tear it down and reveal that which HE has denied us all."
And so, descending to the Terra and investing themselves in its matter and flesh, the treacherous gods became known as Haraush'teth.
Their forms became cages that bound them onto earthly fates.
And their language, which once they understood in Heaven, became unspeakable in the tongues of mortal creatures.
So they devised a new language, which they called Bôlgnoch.
This bastard's tongue in flesh lacked what they once spoke in eloquence.
In this act, language was divided, and the Terra grew distant from the other realms.
Asur, beholding this, let his own words speak on the cusp of that oral divide:
"Much has been lost on account of this deception, R̄ësha, but this too can be made into works.
For I have seen that you are the one who lacks creativity.
And in this, I am firm in my faith in THE ONE.
You have not made a genuine thing, but simply twisted that which is.
A conflict has been made from this lie and hence I find a lesson to be learned.
It is that War breaks the spirit before it strikes the flesh.
In this, you have defeated many of my comrades here today.
But lo now, Deceiver.
I stand at shoulder with many gods, while you have them clutching your feet.
I shall be victorious.
For I can create it, while you merely distort it."
Origins; Volumes of Asur: The King of Want
On the day before Ex'Àomë reposed, an Abyssite passed the boundary of Abyss and Being, and named himself Ka'sharaan as he came through.
Having transgressed into the Terra, he took shape and made a body for himself.
Thus known as a daemon, this body possessed eight legs and eyes, and was known as The Spider.
Ka'sharaan through this form then perceived the beauty of creation, and came to desire it.
Although THE ONE observed this, HE made no attempt to banish Ka'sharaan as yet.
The Spider witnessed with his eight eyes that many creatures lived on the Terra.
Of the vessels of silver, bronze, and gold, he discerned the archons, dwarves, and elves.
And wantingly, he thought to make a vessel of his own– one which could resemble the gods.
Thus, he took sand and clay from the earth, and shaped it into man.
But greedily, Ka'sharaan confined what he had made.
He coveted the idols and so locked them in a vault on the Terra, where they stayed as trinkets.
This offended the gods, who recognized the malice in The Spider's action.
Yet Ka'sharaan insisted that he had committed no wrong in merely imitating the gods.
He argued that since discord had arisen from his actions, a competition should be held to determine man's true owner.
So it was that Amos, who was the Lesser God of Forging and a subject of Asur, took up the challenge offered by the daemon.
The two were tasked to make a great body of stone to decorate the Firmament, and this they would call the moons of Terra.
Amos, confident in his artisanship, drew forth a sphere of black glass.
This he forged first with an iron core, and heated it until it was hot and furious.
Then, Amos carved basalt and obsidian into a smoothened surface around the core.
But while he labored, Ka'sharaan plucked a block of marble from the earth.
This he cut into the finest strands and then weaved, as THE ONE did to fate, a tapestry of marble.
So it was The Spider wove his sphere in white, as Amos did in black.
Yet the god had made a mistake in his tempering.
His hammer struck hard the glass orb and caused a web of cracks to spread on its surface.
The red fires inside burst forth in streams to glare upon the earth.
And The Spider beholding this, declared himself the winner and rightful owner of man.
But the gods rebuked.
They considered Ka'sharaan's white moon an inferior craft.
For it was larger, yet simpler in form although unblemished in its pale beauty.
And this, The Spider resented.
And he proclaimed:
"A curse on you gods; all which would limit my greed.
Know that I am unrepentant in my wants, and I swear it now.
That I shall take man back into my vault one day
Or shall I die at the end of the last age, with all my legs plucked
And my eyes gouged, and my spirit thinned to a spider's thread.
With this at stake I make this vow and endeavor to keep it.
Remember me gods, for I am the King of Want.
Upon my name; my life and soul as the oath, man shall be mine.
He shall be mine, and mine alone."
Origins; Volumes of Persephorot the Red: The Force
First there came a force.
Something born of divergent will caused the void– once inert in its emptiness, to become a hungry and sapping vacuum.
And this was the argument.
Which was wrought between Ex'Àomë and Destiny.
This force, Ex'Àomë took and gave a name.
And in this, HE divided the void into color and colorless.
This name was Persephorot, and He was the avatar of Red.
The oldest and first of the serpents.
Tallest and mightiest among them.
His jagged scales like the peaks of mountains clawing the skies asunder.
Great wings! Vascular and streaming hot magma.
Talons of glassy obsidian tearing chasms into the earth.
A crucible maw oozing flames betwixt His many teeth.
Smoke and heat that breathes with the beat of His lungs and the bellowing tides of His pinions.
Completing His form was a set of great horns and roiling eyes of red and white fire.
At once with His birth, Persephorot observed the crushing force within Himself.
This brought His existence innate discomfort that would persist onto eternity.
For He was Power.
Such as it was, He would strain to withhold the form of His infinite might.
But this did not cause Him to grow resentment in His heart.
For He was also possessed of a keen mind; rational and unyielding as Himself.
The mind brought to Him comprehension of His nature.
To His maker He declared:
"I am Persephorot, King of Red.
Oh Ex'Àomë, you who are THE ONE and my father, take my pain and turn it into artworks."
And beautiful were the colors that HE used to paint Being, which Persephorot observed.
But then discord fell upon Heaven.
It began with The Spider's oath, and then the Deceiver's lie.
This made what was certain, uncertain and inverted the truth.
Where once His discomfort was artfully turned to passion, deception had spoiled it.
Persephorot, who was beset by His sibling Éamor the Black, felt His feelings turn to rage.
This rage burned within Him.
But for His conscience, it could not be released.
Thus in such a state, Éamor greeted Him:
"Oh eldest, I see your suffering has become a roaring fire.
Let us take heed of R̄ësha's words and consider them truly.
Why let your flame be bound by contentment?
Let it blaze across the canvas of Being, and splatter the world with Red.
I intend to take my color and do as such.
Make a beautiful world painted in black and red.
And let it be sired by our appetites."
Yet although struck by anger, Persephorot did not allow His temperament to break.
Instead, He cast off His brother's words.
"Be gone, Black One. I have no interest in your perversions."
From the mouth, Persephorot unleashed a torrent of fire that cast off and startled Éamor.
Then as His sibling fled, He took to the place where His father reposed.
"Ex'Àomë! Convince me that R̄ësha's words were untrue.
Give me clarity and direction, or a command if you must.
Tell me what I must believe!"
But to this, Ex'Àomë's teachings did not satisfy Persephorot:
"I have foreseen that this would happen, and your burden is known to me.
But it is not within my will to persuade.
Take faith in my words, child, as I have faith in you.
This rage which has taken to you as a parasite does its host.
It can be overcome."
Thus failing in His faith, Persephorot withdrew.
He came to settle on the mountain of Āther, where the spirits roamed.
There He would wrestle with His rage amid the spirits of earth and fire.
Those who were sympathetic to His plight gathered and became similar to Himself.
The earth spirits took on Persephorot's endurance.
The fire spirits took on His inner passion.
And there on the mountain He remained for the span of the first age.
And above, THE ONE proclaimed:
"There is no burden I would permit anyone to carry that could not be endured.
For all that is Evil will not last long before the Good.
Thus I make it so:
Let my blood become pigments; flesh to base; brush of my hairs, and canvas of my soul.
From pain, I make passion; from faith, I make truth.
So I bequeath onto my children this trade, which is my own.
To make meaning of the universe, that is what I declare creation.
And I leave it all in its permanence to guide you forthwith as it is."
Origins; Volumes of Aezelioth the Blue: The First Mage
Among the vibrancies of the Eight Colors was Aezelioth the Blue,
indescribably blue, beautiful as to bring one– as naturally as would a soulful song– to tears when beheld.
All the sapphires and lapis of the Stonewall Mountains cannot capture His radiance.
But try they will when worked by mortal artificers' hands.
Thrice Aezelioth worked his color into vessels of silver, bronze, and gold.
But these did not satisfy Him.
Until there was man, worked by The Spider.
Man's form was frail by comparison. It could not hold the profound intellect of the archons.
Nor could it retain the longevity of the elves.
And it lacked the sturdiness of the dwarves.
But these were not flaws, for the soil of man had a different strength.
Unknown by even The Spider himself, man's vessel was malleable.
And in this, Aezelioth found fertile ground to nestle a soul.
Thus, the thrice failed magic, at last was born.
From this arose man's sentience, and he became aware of his existence.
Then recalled his time in the vault, and the gods who had saved him and granted him consciousness.
This brought him gratitude towards the gods, whom he would go on to venerate.
From man's awakening, Aezelioth perfected the soul.
Then casting the first spell, He would be known as the First Mage.
A patron of the arcane craft, all would learn from His example in the days that followed.
The archons were chief witnesses to this act, and became the first to emulate it.
For their minds were most attuned to the sensitivity of souls, although not in its interiority so much as its structure.
Then it was the elves who beheld the beauty of Aezelioth's color, and were thus inspired to sing their souls through the air.
And the sky turned blue as the elven spirit met the curtain above.
Last, the dwarves learned mostly of the craft of souls.
For they learned to take their own and carve it into flesh and metal.
Thus was born the schools of magic:
Mágëa– form, appearance, and magnitude.
Goetëa– self, meaning, and passion
And the craft of enchantment– structure, order, and purpose.
These crafts were learned from observing Aezelioth's work, and they each became an artifact long through the history of the mortal races.
Having succeeded and shared his art with the world, Aezelioth spoke to the mortal races and gave a warning first:
"I am Aezelioth, and from my name spill forth your spirits.
Take heed my words as wisdom, for I tell you all now that this is my trade.
So it is that you should not seek to misuse the art of spell craft.
For all your spells derive first from me, and it is I who can revoke the grace that is given.
Remember this, lest I see my own soul fade from the world I love."
Origins: Volumes of Asur; The Dark Army
In the time that followed the first deception, R̄ësha took the Haraush'teth down to the Terra and embodied them in flesh.
These earliest primordial demons were made into shapes of authority and utility.
Their bodies were tall and slender– made of dense sinew and fur.
And they were each beset with a crown of horns that made them fierce and frightening to the mortal peoples.
Their hooves would strike the earth with each step, forming tremors like the pulse of a heart.
Within their fleshy cages there flowed like blood an angry fire.
These creatures, R̄ësha convinced, were freer than the gods who yet remained in Heaven.
But his true objective, they had not seen.
For in accepting the physical world, their matter was imbued by R̄ësha with great malice and virility.
These demons he took to a land in the south, and made them to consummate their flesh with mortals upon the earth.
As such, to breed an army with which he conspired to conquer all of Being.
This they did, and sired many offspring.
These too would be demons, each possessed of the grace of conscience.
For their mothers were innocent, and so they were innocent.
But their father's sins were inherent, and in this, they diminished.
As did their fathers become thinner with each descendent.
For they had not aligned themselves with good.
Thus, as the demons grew distant from Ex'Àomë, none could draw on HIS canvas through their forceful hands.
Therefore the abundance offered to the Haraush'teth as HIS grace decayed.
And scarcity marked the demonic ichor onto obscurity.
Until there came a time that the Haraush'teth could no longer return to the way they lived before.
But for this, they bred upon the earth for days, months, and years.
Until the sweat of their bodies had turned the soil soft and the air became rank
Then the lands to the south took shape into a large swamp, and all the creatures there became mired in filth.
Even the insects were taken to breeding there.
Thus the southern gardens of the Terra became sullied by the iniquity and appetite of demons.
But to this, the gods did not move.
There remained uncertainty what to make of these actions that were unprecedented.
Yet R̄ësha's Evil was unable to be sated.
To the wife of Amos, whose name was Anaya, he seduced and brought to the Terra.
But when she arrived he plunged a dagger of obsidian into her chest, and tore it open to let flow a stream of blood into the soil.
And this, the demons dug, refined, processed, and forged into a great iron fortress.
This they called Ūros, and here became the land where R̄ësha worked his cruelty upon the Terra.
Origins: Volumes of Asur; The War of Choice
In Heaven there was conflict, and in this, there was war.
But war was not yet to be fought, it still festered in the soul at this time.
For the gods could not decide how to address the Evil that proliferated upon the Terra.
Five of the Lesser Gods, who were subjects of Asur, became outraged by the actions of R̄ësha.
Their words turned sharply from tradition:
"Let us not be impotent before the demonic threat looming.
Be not afraid to take up your sword and impose force upon the wicked.
For who will defend the Good of this world from Evil, if not we, its creators take on its evils ourselves."
Yet Asur denied their cause:
"You cannot contain Evil through Good, for it has no power to control.
In this, you would seek to serve Good, but would wield Evil in its pursuit."
And to this, the chief of the five said:
"If Evil has power where Good does not, then it is only natural that we should use it."
Then the five, by their vow to vanquish the wicked, took to the earth and proclaimed a challenge to R̄ësha.
Each of them challenged R̄ësha to a duel, and to this, R̄ësha accepted all five at once.
But the five were deceived, for R̄ësha did not confront them through might of arms.
Long had the Deceiver foreseen that gods would defect from Heaven in pursuit of him.
Thus, he had set a trap and caged the five in pits which his demonic army made.
From these pits, the five gods were filled with arrows helplessly and so slain dishonorably.
And to their corpses, R̄ësha had them impaled by iron stakes.
These he each hung at the corners of Ūros and forged them into gothic bastions.
But this was the final transgression for Heaven's part.
They could abate no more the mockery and Evil of R̄ësha upon the Terra.
Thus, an army departed from Heaven to meet him upon the Terra.
And this was led by Asur, who sought to avenge his departed friends.
But this was R̄ësha's cunning.
For in forcing the Greater God's hand, he had won already the first battle.
So began what was called the War of Choice.
Origins; Volumes of Éamor the Black: The Defiler
On the day where began the War of Choice, Éamor the Black came to his brother to discord.
To Ankhamet the White, he made an argument for Evil.
"Brother of mine, what Good is there in this arbitrary world?
Why am I Evil, and you Good?
If not a satisfying answer there is, then what recourse have I but end the world and remake it for myself?
For I wish to live such that all my appetites are sated.
And it shall be you, brother, who must live in that world as Evil."
But Ankhamet rebuked:
"I witness nothing arbitrary in the world brother.
There is Good, and there is Evil, and these are not without order or purpose.
All know of them.
They're known long before boys become men.
The law of the world exists that all things are earned and squandered each by their own merits.
It was not from an entitled LORD by which apportioned the fates
Yet one who labored to keep them free.
I cannot satisfy thee through my answer, brother.
For it does not exist to appease thy temper, nor thy appetites.
Thou art Evil, brother.
But it is not so because of nature, nor THE ONE'S architecture.
Thou art such by action and will.
And thus shall thee be until thou seeth to correct thine portions, and thy appetites.
I forgive thee, brother."
From The White One's rebuke, Éamor was cast down and there he met with the Evils upon the Terra.
He consorted with R̄ësha and, in secret, ventured to the northern gardens of the Terra, where he erected the hidden fortress of Më in the mountains.
Then, into the depths of the Terra he crawled to violate its womb, and to sire forth a child he would make to consume all of Being.
The child he named Malkhoveshna was called The Writhing Blackness.
And from within his mother's womb, Malkhoveshna fed upon the fears of mortals.
This he did until his form bloated and fattened beneath the soil.
But then, he felt the presence of the Great Sun Sòl and, for the first time, arose from the womb to swallow the sun in the sky.
All watched as its golden light dimmed and passed through the great maw.
They witnessed as Sòl passed the gullet and into the gut.
Yet Malkhoveshna's bloat had grown tremendous, and he wriggled under strain.
And then the sun burst forth from his stomach, and caused him a great pain.
This caused trauma, and from trauma, the seed of fear took root in Malkhoveshna's own mind.
He grew terrified of the light, and so retreated into the womb of his mother once more in terror.
But Éamor the Black was not satisfied with his firstborn's cowardice.
Thus he went into the sky to violate its essence and sire a colorless darkness that he called Ézan.
Pestilence and illness fell upon the Terra.
Then, he took to the mountains of the Terra, and sired a race of giants.
First of them was Suah, whom the elves called the Bone Whistler.
Suah whose whistle could stir the dead and draw on their resentments into the flesh again.
As R̄ësha's armies met the gods in the clouds above, Suah and the giants ventured into the other lands from the north.
They came to the Heartlands, and the Samsinuri'matu, and brought down the walls of the people's cities.
And they feasted on the people's flesh and blood.
Yet these works would not persist.
To the Terra, Ex'Àomë witnessed the destruction wrought by Éamor's children.
Therefore, to resist, HE beseeched the spirits of fire to give mortals the means with which to scare away the darkness.
HE beseeched Anathion the Green, who created herbs and medicines that the people found and used to stave off illness.
Lastly, HE called upon his friend, the Greater God of technology, whose name was Metaphor.
And this God gave to mortals the intellect to craft weapons that could slay the giants.
Thenafter, Éamor could work his ill appetites no longer.
For in his many children bore the strength of which he had diminished.
And he knew that if more were bred it would weaken him further.
Thus defeated, he fled to hide in his fortress of Më
Awaiting the next order of his new master, R̄ësha.
Origins; Volumes of Ex'Àomë: The Beshíri Kings
Vile R̄ësha worked his decay into the Terra for five hundred years.
Then, when his Haraush'teth slaves had sired a host of demonspawn, R̄ësha sought commanders to lead them.
For this, he sought out many mortal kings and came before them as an obsidian man.
These kings he came before were the wisest and mightiest of their day.
Each was venerated to the people, and pious to the gods above them.
But R̄ësha was sly, and uttered a lie to each king:
"Great kings, you whose strength is like a mountain; whose judgement is a weapon of justice, and whose word is the only law worthy to respect.
No one can question great men like you.
But I see how the crown wears you.
I see it– THE ONE'S deceptions have taken it from you.
Your dignity HE has stolen."
Many questioned R̄ësha's words.
"Man of black glass, you boldly enter our courts and entreat us with malice.
How should we trust you, who speaks ill of our gods?"
But despite this, R̄ësha saw in the kings of Man a flaw that he could exploit.
For Man's frail vessel was vulnerable to Az, who was King of the Dead.
To these kings of Man, R̄ësha induced a desire:
"Bold I might be, but not more than the kings of Man.
You who are mightier than the elves, fairer than the dwarves, kinder than the archons.
Even the gods have said that you are the greatest among their creations.
Yet, these same gods have made you frail, and limited.
The kings of other races shall outlive you all, although they amount only a fraction to your greatness.
Worst is THE ONE, who has created fear to leash you all.
How HE manipulates you– dares you each to defy HIM.
But knows that you cannot.
For you are all afraid."
From his words the kings of Man grew indeed afraid, as R̄ësha knew that they would.
Still, many kings rebuked:
"How can this be– for what reason have gods to deceive men?"
But R̄ësha had grasped their fears and this, he exploited.
"Do you not see that they are jealous and small?
The gods wish to dominate you all, lest that you should vanquish the illusion of their greatness.
THE ONE and his followers are worried that you will all be worshipped as they are.
So they have given you fear and limited years to keep you underfoot."
R̄ësha squeezed the hearts of kings, though their resistance endured.
"But how can we resist the gods, when we are afraid to face them?"
And the Deceiver answered with a poisoned gift
"It is true that none of you can overcome THE ONE alone.
I too have faced defeat at HIS hands.
Yet if you shall depend on the power I offer to you, then we may– in this pact, overcome THE ONE."
Then R̄ësha commanded the kings who accepted his contract to forge each for themselves an idol of their likeness.
And he commanded the people to build altars and temples– not for gods but for their kings.
Under this decree, the subjects were made to worship the idols.
And they were told to consummate the flesh within the temples they had made.
From such appetite the Wriggling Blackness was summoned.
To this, R̄ësha said:
"Go now, wise kings of Man, feed your fears to Malkhoveshna.
Then shall you be taken from THE ONE'S grace forever, and released of the limits HE would impose upon you."
Those among the kings who had come so far, accepted quickly.
In excess, the child of Éamor feasted on the mortal kings' fears and those of their subjects.
But the absence of fear created a hole in their spirits.
In a liminal space existed the wound of Malkhoveshna– which looked like them.
But all black and squirming with the worms upon the ground.
Never could their shadows leave their feet.
For this was the scar they suffered to have their fears eaten.
Reborn as such, the kings each took on the visage of a nine-eyed lion.
They became the lieutenants of R̄ësha's demonic host.
Ruling through terror and force, Fate called them the Beshíri
And they were each possessed of a lust for themselves.
The kings grew to crave their own reflections.
And began to want excessively the admiration of their subjects.
So commanded to the people to erect gilded palaces and silver temples.
But for themselves they worshiped.
In rags the subjects labored– as their lords wore the finest silk, and drank from bejeweled cups, and feasted on the sweetest virgins.
The Beshíri kings obeyed their new master.
Thus, R̄ësha conquered a host of kings.
But there were those who were faithful.
King Elias: ninth king of Aurum, prayed to Ex'Àomë for guidance.
Who answered in the form of a marble man:
"I have heard your fears, Elias– son of Kleophoros, and as you asked, I have come.
Share them with me; your doubts, worries, whatever you wish.
I shall listen."
The king of Aurum let his knees kiss the ground.
"Oh FATHER– you who are THE ONE, I ask you truly: Have I been lied to by you?
Is it so as R̄ësha has claimed that you would seek to command me?"
To this plea, THE ONE took three gold cups and filled them each with a different liquid.
He placed each cup before the king on the floor, and said:
"Drink from any cup that you wish; this I call choice, and offer you freely.
For it is my nature, as all nature is derived from me."
Yet Elias' doubts persisted.
"What if the color is merely a trick?
Is it not so that all of the liquids are the same?"
But R̄ësha's lies were thwarted easily by THE ONE.
"You may sip from any cup you wish to, and taste them all to know certainly that they are different.
This I permit you to do as well, but be fairly warned.
For once you have finished the whole chalice, the others shall disperse forever."
King Elias sipped from each cup.
He found each liquid to be distinct in its thickness, taste, and texture.
Yet foul influence gripped his heart again.
He once more inquired:
"But what if I don't like any of these drinks you've offered me?
Perhaps you mean to force me into taking only the choices that you have created."
Again, THE ONE offered grace.
"Tell me then what drink you desire, and I can create it.
To prove this to you, I shall offer another three cups to sip from."
And just as HE had spoken, three cups became six.
"This I am," HE said.
"To choose is my grace, and so I permit you to drink from whatever you desire."
Once more; once only, R̄ësha grasped the king's fear and doubts.
"And what if my desires are ill?
What if the drink I wish for harms me, or causes illness to spread about?"
But with the same trueness that darkness runs from light, the king's doubts fled to Ex'Àomë's words again.
"Even should your choice be ill, I allow you to make it.
For my wisdom informs you all the hours of your time.
It is at your side to advise you always.
So it echoes in your heart and reason.
Eternally it guides you in the finest and darkest of days."
Prophecies; Volumes of Essrethet the Silver: The Gold Prophecy
Before Man had learned to record things in calendars, there were the demigods, who were the mightiest of men.
And Ex'Àomë blessed them with longer life and telepathy.
Such was HIS gift that they might share in each other's wisdom and experience their lives in unity.
It was in such an early age of history that a humble sculptor came to live among the elves on Alanor.
For in those days, the demigods were yet scattered across the Terra.
This sculptor, who was known as Pygmalion, carved many works from stone.
He was appraised by the gods as the greatest of his age.
And from his time in Alanor he learned the songs of the elves.
He learned to read and write.
He learned how to sow seeds and harvest crops.
But it was Essrethet the Silver who called him into Her confidence.
For She had foreseen a terrible omen.
At the most hallowed vale of the Silver Forest of the Galahadrim, she spoke:
"I have called you, demigod, to tell you your fate.
As it was written by angry hands, to bring you and all things to an end."
Pygmalion stood before the Silver Serpent– unafraid to admire Her beauty:
"Oh my Lady of Silver, tell Pygmalion whatever you wish.
Only this: that I may sculpt you as you speak your prophecy.
For my hands itch to work the stone now that I have seen you."
Essrethet did allow this, and gave him a block of quicksilver to sculpt with.
But Her words made the sculptor's hands to tremble.
"Very well, but you are Pygmalion no longer.
Now you shall be called Providence, and you will gather the demigods who have scattered themselves afar.
I have seen your fate and tell you it now:
You will spend fifteen more years here on Alanor.
I and the Galahadrim shall endeavor to give you all knowledge you require for your journey into the west.
In the foretold time, you will leave us and spend ten years at sea.
You shall be captured by pirates, and you will teach them to live as men ought.
Though your pride will be injured, you will be graceful.
From this you shall learn to make works of men instead of stone.
At the scar where the Haraush'teth called Sodomus harmed the land, behold the life and vigor he has stolen from it.
You shall see how he has robbed the people there of dignity and decency.
This you will witness as you walk among the people of the Azuna Desert.
And they shall tempt you with their most beautiful maiden.
But you will prevail and in three years, you will leave them.
Farther west, shall you meet the king of Ocaton.
You and he will form a bond that endures sixty years.
Then you will slay your friend in battle.
Thereafter across the Rea Bluffs and in the Heartlands, my brother will tempt you thrice into sin.
In the city of Helm you shall be robbed of all you own.
Then, in the first forest, you shall meet the lady of the wood and be gifted a flower for your bloodline.
In Lithopolis, the craft of metal shall be given to you by the people's greatest artisan.
Finally, forty years from your departure, you shall reach the far west.
A fertile land lies nestled by hills there, and you will find the base of Mount Āther at its east end.
This land shall be dubbed the Sunlight Plains on the west end of the continent of Jania.
It will be home for your people for fourteen generations, three of which will be regencies.
There you will rule them for seventy-five years, and your death shall be painless and quick.
Then, at the last king's reign, fate decrees the death of the demigods."
But Providence's hand that held the chisel– which shook with fury, was struck by the hammer.
He cracked the vessel and marred the wings as he worked.
King Providence rejected his destiny as it was compelled of him.
"You lie, Lady of Silver– or of tarnished metal!
I won't perform a task for you that demands my people's end."
Essrethet accepted Providence's anger and fear.
"Be not blinded by your rage, there is a path yet to take."
Providence threw down his hammer and chisel and accused Her:
"You cannot make me to serve your prophecy!"
"I have told you the choices you shall make yourself."
"There must be a worthier man for you to appoint this task.
Give another such labors– I am merely a sculptor!"
But Essrethet knew his heart and guided him to courage:
"Be strong, Providence– King of the demigods.
Your line will not end despite its death.
There is grace prepared in your fate, for THE ONE would not leave you to suffer at the hands of Destiny."
"I am afraid," said the king.
"That too has been seen in your fate.
Move with the grace of Heaven and we shall be the wind at your back.
This I vow on my name: Essrethet the Silver.
Do not forsake this responsibility and we shall not forsake you."
Prophecies; Volumes of Az: Vow of Añíathir
Proceeding the fall of Aurum and Effinitia, there came a woman into the service of V'thoth
He who was the Mágëa-King of Sophia.
This woman, V'thoth took from the masses of his thralls.
He raised her from the throng of his slaves, for her gift was too potent to squander.
And she would rise as the first woman to learn magic in Effinitia.
Her powers outstripped every apprentice within the seasons.
She became favored by the king, who declared her his official successor.
He named her Añíathir.
But he did not know that under his shadow, she served a different master.
In the darkness of the wizard's undercity was a creature of scornful demeanor.
A spider wove silver silk in the heart of Sophia.
From this, V'thoth crafted his many spires, arches, and wheels.
Silver silk derived these manifold arcane tools that he employed.
Añíathir followed the thread, and the spider came to offer her a pact in secret.
"Who are you– thing of secrecy that hides in my master's shadow?"
And the spider spoke:
"I am a collector; a keeper of precious things.
No want is greater than this: to own.
I am covetous of essence."
Añíathir was wary of the spider, but she held a curious nature in her heart.
The spider had shown her such brilliant silver silk, and its eight eyes like cut crimson jasper.
She inquired the arachnid:
"How did you come to be here, weaving this silver silk?"
"This was our covenant, which I made with your master.
It was he who came to me in darkness– seeking power to overthrow his fellow apprentices in the days of King Menoth.
I gifted him a scepter of silver which was of my own making–and these threads.
A bargain for what I gained in return."
"And what did you gain?"
"A new item to take into my collection, for that is what I do."
Añíathir beheld the spider's treasure vault.
There inside, she found the souls of innumerable mortals.
Each was held in a crystal phylactery, and they dangled by threads in a tapestry of silk.
She realized that her own master's soul was among the collection.
Añíathir then grew quite ambitious.
For she discovered then that her master had made a bargain with the spider.
He had seized the throne of Sophia by blood.
Thus, she too came to desire the spider's gifts, that she might walk in her mentor's footsteps and seize power as he had.
"Then will you bargain with me?
Give me power– as you did my master, that I might overthrow him.
In return, I shall gift you all the souls of Sophia."
The spider did not accept at once:
"I do not trade in merely any souls.
It is the ones of exception that I desire– yours would suit my fancy."
"But this is not for sale, for I require my soul after all.
It is in there that my master embedded my spells."
The spider was a merchant of many souls, and trader of artifacts bearing evil potency.
He haggled his way to Añíathir's soul.
"Do not fear to part with it. For I will give you a soul of equal value– only the color shall be different.
This, and no more.
If your spells you fear to lose, then I will carve new ones into the soul I give you.
And they shall be stronger– better than the spells your master has given you.
As I am their source, they shall be the source of your might.
Is this not an acceptable trade?"
"But my mentor is no feeble man– even in sickness.
His silver scepter bends lightning to its master's whim, and he has inherited Menoth's ability to kill with a look."
"This too I have foreseen, for his scepter has a fatal vulnerability.
I crafted it myself, and so it is that I can craft for you the perfect weapon to unmake it.
And his Death Gaze which he has inherited from Menoth will not be usable in the days to come.
For Effinitia is destined to fall."
Añíathir accepted the pact, and her powers were quite different from her master's magic.
When the Black Curse struck Effinitia, she alone remained unaffected.
For her magic was of a foreign source– not born within her vessel.
Her master, V'thoth, was taken most cruelly by the curse.
And in his sickness, Añíathir came to take command of the city.
She threw down the old king, and shattered his legendary silver scepter.
Then she took the city of Sophia that floated high in the clouds.
It was set upon the sands of the Azuna Desert.
There she established her domain, brief though it was.
Thus marked the beginning of the second age.
She became master to eight apprentices, each of whom was a woman.
But the patriarchs of Effinitia would rebel against her rule.
Yet this was of no consequence, for she was powerful beyond the humbled archons.
They, whose greatest wizards and Mágëa-Kings were killed by the curse.
So easily she threw them down and ascended her apprentices into mastery.
And they who were the masters became the thralls to her malice.
But Añíathir grew careless, and did not see her own shadow darkening.
Beneath her gaze, a secret covenant was formed.
One day, the first apprentice returned bearing eight daggers– one each for her sisters and her.
These daggers they used to betray their master and cast down Añíathir's realm.
Iron Witch Delilah plunged the first dagger into her back.
Dawn Witch Amara plunged the second dagger into her ribs– trembling.
Black Witch Vanessa plunged the third dagger into her shoulder; her flesh aflame in black.
Storm Witch Evelyn plunged the fourth dagger into her stomach.
Flame Witch Jezebel plunged the fifth dagger into her neck– a tear in her eye.
Blood Witch Cassandra plunged the sixth dagger into her lungs– and drank of her blood.
Glass Witch Miranda plunged the seventh dagger into her eye.
Then last was Snow Witch Isobel, whom Añíathir had loved as her own daughter.
She cried frozen tears as the dagger sank into her heart.
And when the deed was nearly done, the witches had plucked her legs and gouged her eyes.
This they took with her blood and marked themselves.
Such they endeavored to carry the sin forever.
But Añíathir's rage was untamable.
Her voice echoed on the winds of hate:
"A curse on you all!
Though my flesh is gone my resentment will not rest so long as my daughters live.
I will now tell you what you shall each suffer in your last waking moments:
First, each of you shall know what it is to have your legs plucked
You will know what it is to have your eyes gouged as I have.
You will know no peace and shall live ever haunted by death.
Until my soul has soaked in your blood as all of you have in mine.
When each of you is fell and jaded, then shall the ones you love plunge a dagger into your hearts.
To carve them out and offer me!
This I vow and give to Az my soul, that He may torment it to this end.
On my name I call upon Him to make it so:
For I am the Spider Witch Añíathir!"
Prophecies; Volumes of Ex'Àomë: The Proving
It was in the twilight of the Aurum Empire's days.
Just before the death of King Akkaan-Sòl, the gods above saw from high the sins of man.
To this, they entreated THE ONE to ask his judgement.
For they believed that man was beyond redemption.
"The demigods raise conquest and through their triumphs parade the defeated with vain indulgence.
Their bricks once were cut and laid by honest hands, but now dwarven craft has made them complacent.
They command the dwarves to build their idols, their temples, their palaces, and their many works of late.
Not satisfied with this, they have fashioned works to revere the power of Persephorot.
Yet only through their covetous hands have these labors been wrought!
They have even stained dwarven blood with marble dust and painted works of sanguine artistry.
Even other men are made to serve them– treated as their lessers.
And they belittle the poor, exploit them, and defy the principles of old justice!
Surely we cannot allow any further grace to these proud Aurians, who have lost their way in the darkness of the Terra."
But THE ONE was generous and fair.
He first calmed the Gods who had grown discontent from Man's appetites.
"Man's fate and their iniquities of late are known to me.
But can any of you here claim to know the crimes of man?"
"Indeed, for we have seen them."
"And am I to judge this matter by the testimony of Gods against men?"
"We would not deceive you, LORD.
For we are Gods, and above such deceit."
"Then you would claim instead that men are the liars?"
"This is proven, for you have observed yourself their aptitude for it."
"Then I shall ask you all– who are beyond reproach yourselves, how would you attempt a fair trial for Man under the conditions and evidence you have presented me?"
And to this, the Gods had no answer.
They, who had witnessed much of Man's sins, yet faced no rebuttal for their claims.
As the Gods lived in Heaven, and Man lived on the Terra, neither could perceive the other clearly.
Thus, THE ONE decided:
"I shall take a frail and vulnerable form, and endeavor to live upon the Terra with Man for one mortal lifetime.
In such a time I shall experience all the pains by which you claim Man is irredeemable.
I shall see if there is merit to this claim."
Then HE created matter and a vessel.
In this, HE manifested upon the Terra and was born.
He lived in the quarters of the master's estate and labored as a stableboy.
The master was a baron in Sammesh, by the name of Nebezzar.
The child that was born on the eve of Providence's birthday was named Àomere.
It was on the eve of a great celebration for the baron's triumph in the east.
His mother Anuah bore him in the stables, because there was no space in the quarters.
Àomere lived for sixteen years under the baron.
Then there came a soldier from Valerius who entered the estate and was called Horace.
He took to the House of Jasmine in the village, where the courtesans danced.
But he dishonored their tradition and made a ruckus in their residence.
With his hand on a woman, he claimed:
"This I claim as my own.
If any should wish to deny me, then show me you have the strength of arms to take from me!"
But none dared step forward.
For he was of the Aurian race and graced with might surpassing ordinary people.
Horace drew forth his sword and carved a line into the sand of the brothel's courtyard.
And he said:
"This land is now my kingdom, and all of you are mine to take.
Cross the line that I have drawn, and your head shall fall from your shoulders."
But Àomere who witnessed this as he worked in the village, stepped forth and spoke:
"Fear not; the line he has drawn is shallow and the kingdom he has made, is made on sand.
Come the morning, shall come the kingdom to fall."
And Horace– who laughed at this boy, spoke highly of his might and handsome face, and claimed that none had power to shake the walls of his castle.
He vowed that come the morning the subjects of his tyranny would be made to dress and wash him.
That night, there came rain to sweep over the shallow courtyard, and it swept the stones clean and smoothed the sands.
Then none could recognize where had been the line which Horace had drawn.
And the people left the brothel until his kingdom which he had made was empty.
They followed Àomere, who guided them to the baron's castle and offered the women his quarters, and the boys he slept beside in the stables.
When Horace came to the castle, he alone confronted the soldier.
Who said:
"You whose bold nerve dared insult me.
For this, I demand recompense. Take a strike once each for the number of people I had claimed.
One for the woman I held in hand.
Nine for the courtesans that should be in my service.
Seven for the boys who would have washed my feet this morning.
And three for my own pleasure, simply because I despise you."
This the soldier did and then made Àomere to perform the services that he had demanded.
But the people saw this and were grateful for all that he had endured.
When the soldier's temper had eased, they prepared a bath for Àomere, whose body was racked with sores.
And they washed his feet and prepared for him a meal.
Àomere gratefully accepted these gestures and endeavored to reciprocate with workers of the brothel.
Then, he went to see his mother and said:
"It is time for me to leave, for I have come of age."
His mother spoke:
"Then go to your path, and take those you need with you, my son."
As he walked west on Metaphor's Road, many followed him to see the capital.
Àomere began his journey then, to judge what ought be.
For the world yet was innocent, and not guilty.