RE: Deity - The Breath of Creation

The Progenitor watched his world from afar, as he always had and always would. His home was located at the very center of his Garden, in the heart of the massive ball of light that shone on all of creation. Worlds spun around the light, hundreds of thousands of them, each with their own unique characteristics. Some were barren and empty. Some were frozen balls of ice, others flaming spheres or giants made of gas. A few still were inhabited by life forms, beings that naturally grew from seeds of his own making. Those could be intelligent or not – sometimes, letting random evolution grow in those life forms was more entertaining than micro managing it.

Up this close to his greenhouse and home, everything was planted in neatly ordered rows. Like items were placed together in tasteful arrangements, be they swirling circles or perfect cubes.

Further away, the worlds and systems grew differently than the carefully manufactured planets up close. There was everything from flat stretches of land, one side holding life, the other barren, held together through magic, to nebulas and other such curious features. Sometimes it was fun to look at the simplicity of a lifeless stretch of space. Sometimes it was fun to watch life, with all of its chaotic moving parts. And through it all his immortal helpers could be seen wandering through the depths of his garden, tending to planets and other such things. Most were very similar to the being he had brought to the meeting with him; feathered, six-legged beasts without a face.

They aided in his tending of the garden, helping to ensure no unwanted pests got in, or weeds grew.

The Progenitor turned his attention back to those who had come with him; nearly everyone, save for the Dragon. Most attention was locked onto him, undoubtedly, he knew, to speak about what he had done in the meeting room. That would come in a moment. When the time was right.

"This, is my, Garden," he said, floating upward a bit to allow everyone a better view. His position there allowed him a perfect view of his entire garden; like watching through the window of a mansion. "Winter is coming right now, so silence is starting to fall, but it is still a beautiful scene. If you wish, you may explore, my greenhouse as well." A beam of white light shot off from his form, arcing through an open archway behind and to the right of the assembled deities. His entire home was the central light of the Garden, and within it, it held his laboratory and greenhouse, where seeds were stored to be replanted when winter wiped out the rest of his garden.

Sylphina immediately fluttered in that direction, MR-10 going opposite of the butterfly to investigate the Progenitor's laboratory, where he experimented with elements of creation to make new features for his garden. Most of the rest split of to join those two, only Statera Luotian, the Emperor, and Yueya approaching his spot, looking out at his garden.

"How beautiful. You have created a true work of art here, Progenitor," Yueya breathed, placing a hand over her chest, eyes sparkling as she soaked in the sights.

"I, thank, you." the Progenitor said. "It is, my, sanctuary."

"I do not understand," the Emperor admitted, shaking his head with a frown. "This is a baffling universe, and I cannot understand why you built it this way." The Progenitor pulsed once, confused.

"What part of it, do you not, understand?" he asked. It was a fairly straightforward universe, not too far different from his old one, where he'd been one of the personal aides of his own Origin Deity.

"You let the Void destroy your garden." Statera said, brows furrowed and hands folded into the sleeves of her robe. The Progenitor could sense frustration swirling about her heart and soul, her green eyes narrowing. The emotions were swiftly curbed by a gentleman appearing beside her, dressed in a fine black suit as he stepped out of her dreams. His salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed, and he handed her a steaming cup of tea. "Thank you, Randus." She muttered. The butler bowed once and stepped away, gaze flicking only once to the garden.

How respectful. What was he to Statera?

"I do. That, is, winter." The Progenitor agreed. "Such is how, my Garden, grows. Winter comes, and all is returned to the fundamental matter of creation, flowing back into my greenhouse. When the Void reaches the Central Light, I ignite the created Primordial Chaos, causing a massive explosion of growth and rebirth. For a time, everything is allowed, to grow. Then fall comes, and the decay begins, and it all starts over once again."

"You willingly allow your territory to be destroyed." The Emperor said, shaking his head.

"I, do allow, that. But with each cycle of destruction, the size of my creation becomes larger, and larger. This process also eliminates, the most dangerous aspects of the Void, to my own being. By the time it reaches my greenhouse, the destructive impulses of the Void are largely, sated." The Progenitor reasoned. The Void reacted to the size and power of that which was disrupting it, after all. Plus, this process allowed him to rebuild the garden in many different ways. This was already the fifth iteration of his garden, and also the longest lasting. How long had it been around? A while, now, when his first garden had barely lasted a hundred thousand years.

His old universe had lasted trillions of years between cycles, supposedly.

"There is beauty in impermanence, just as there is beauty in eternity." Yueya said.

"Not all, of it is, destroyed." The Progenitor argued. "My greenhouse, contains, [Eternity.]" the word echoed through his home, and the other origin deities shuddered. It was not as poignant a word here in the depths of his home. It had already been mired in [Eternity], after all.

"There it is again," Yueya said, perking up. "The way you said that word. What is it?"

"The language, of the, Overgod. One of the reasons, we are chosen as Origin Deities, is our instinctive understanding of it. We have a connection, to the Overgod that, transcends normal reasoning. Did you not think it odd, we were able to borrow a sliver of the greatest, being in existence's power without ill-effect?" he pressed.

"The language is power, then?" The Emperor asked.

"No. The language, is mere, words. But the only being in existence, who fluently speaks it, is the Overgod. When we speak it, we are borrowing the Overgod's understanding of reality, and making it part of our own." The Progenitor said. The other origin deities were slowly filtering back into the room, his voice having spread out to reach all of them. This was important for each of them to know, and…huh. Hadn't he just said he would do this speech later? Ah, well, it slipped out. Such is life.

"Your first, word, is your [Enlightenment.] It is something, that will affect your growth throughout, the rest of your time as an origin deity. My first, word, was [Light.]" As soon as he said the word, brightness filled the world in an intentional display of power. Warmth spread through the assembled gods, all save for Shin and Statera shuddering, smiling at the kind, soft, nurturing light he projected.

"What does it say about Statera, then, that their word was 'shut up?'" Sylphina teased, the chaos butterfly flying in the air on unmoving wings. The Progenitor appreciated the gesture. A single flap of its wings here, in this place, could send waves of chaos throughout his Realm – if, of course, the Overgod had not been protecting this place while all were gathered.

"I do, not, know. It could be related, to some aspect of themselves, or something they admire. What I can say, Statera, is do not turn away from it. Whatever possessed you, to say what you did when you did, had a purpose. Perhaps it connects, to a piece of yourself you have forgotten, or gave away. Sight is most limited, when turned towards, the self after all." Statera flinched back as if struck as the words came out of the Progenitor, expression morphing from shock to sudden anger – but was swiftly smoothed over to a more neutral expression. Her butler, Randus, appeared behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. She nodded to him once and took a slow sip of her tea, Randus silently handing Reilly a cup when he asked for one.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"How do you know this?" MR-10 was the one who asked this question, which was immediately echoed by Rising Wind, Crashing Waves. To be expected of the most logical of the assembled origin deities; those two were the slowest to accept information without knowing where it came from, or without having any information to back it up.

"Because I was, once an aide to, an Origin Deity. My understanding of my own world, and the greater multiverse is far deeper than any of yours, by nature of my past. This is however, one of those lessons that must be learned, not taught. Understand that, your first word will come, when it is time. Now come, we have much more to see and I would be remiss, to allow you all to traverse my Garden without a guide." The Progenitor started to float away from his spot, talking the entire way.

Who should he introduce them to first? One of his gardeners? Or perhaps someone else? His attention turned briefly to the being he had made specifically for the meeting, the Nameless Guardian. It had spent all this time sampling the other gods auras, and still had yet to decide upon its own. Ah, well. It was an experiment, anyways. There was little need to swap out its plus one, especially since no one else had the desire to go with him. They were busy enough tending to the garden, and preparing for winter.

The Progenitor let out a little hum.

Let us start in the greenhouse. That should be best.

Randus had been confused as to why the Mistress had chosen him to accompany Her for this journey at first. But now he understood a bit better. She was agitated. She hid it well, but he was better than even the Big Four at picking out Her emotions. He would hedge his bets that it had something to do with the ball of light and the pitiful dragon he'd seen in the meeting room. That was where he came in; no one was better than he at finding ways to distract or soothe Her. She said it Herself on occasion, and he was happy to oblige.

That wasn't to say the Garden wasn't fascinating. Even if the Progenitor's take on its creations was far, far different from the Mistress' own, they had truly made some incredible things. Incredible enough that, once the Progenitor began explaining some of its creations, the entire group of origin deities were properly enthralled. Leaving him with little to do.

So he wandered a bit through the building the Progenitor called the greenhouse, always prepared to go back to visit the Mistress, yet still taking the time to observe. It was the size of a largish continent, extraordinarily small compared to the rest of the Progenitor's realm, but big enough. And big enough for what was contained within.

Eternal things resided here.

Trees that grew golden fruit, fruit that radiated immortality. Birds of fire that hurtled through the ever-shifting white skies. Mountains of strange, immutable metal, and even souls that had echoes of dreams contained within. Each and every one had the memory of a hero, of a paragon of their time…and though none were as impressive as their Paragon Soul, Xing Wu, was, they were acceptable for what they were. Given immortality through their deeds…he could see echoes of their actions throughout all of the dreams of the Progenitor's creations, fuzzy though they were to him, being a foreigner.

What truly drew his attention, however, was what grew in the very center of the greenhouse. Immortal things were a common enough occurrence in the Four Realms, but this? This was new. A ball, perhaps twice as tall as he, of condensed primordial chaos. Streams of chaos flowed into it like dust from all corners of the garden, constantly adding to the ball yet never once increasing it in size. It reminded Randus of an egg, or a seed, ready to explode into life once the right conditions were met.

"It is fascinating, is it not?" a new voice asked. He turned to the speaker, a pointy-eared maiden with pitch-black hair that glittered with stars. Her eyes were silver, and her expression was blank as she circled around from the other side of the ball of primordial chaos.

"Indeed it is." He agreed. "Fascinating concept, this…creation through destruction. The condensed primordial chaos is truly beautiful. Though I pity the lack of known permanence in this world; the mortals seem to live hopeless existences, destined to fade into obscurity, their dreams gone, unless they achieve the impossible." Even if most did not make it to immortality in the Four Realms, their souls were at least immortal. They had the chance to try again and revisit their memories in the Spirit Realm. Here, he wasn't sure. It seemed all so impermanent.

"It is not as hopeless as it seems." The woman said. "There is beauty in impermanence, yet the cores of their beings remain. Memories may fade, but the truesouls return to the source of creation in the end." Randus closed his eyes for a moment, feeling out the world around him.

It was true, he found. Though their shapes were different, the souls of the Progenitor's realm did, in fact, have a truesoul. Relief flooded through him - though their shape and color might be different than the truesouls of the Four Realms, which was likely why he missed it at first, it was encouraging. That they might have not had been unthinkable.

"Ah, forgive me. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Astraea, goddess of the stars. And you are?" The self-identified Astraea said, coming to stand before him.

"I am called Randus. I serve the Mistress." He said, placing one hand to his chest and bowing slightly. Astraea continued to watch him, expressionless, as he straightened back up and clasped his hands behind his back.

"You are like me, I believe. Born of our creator's…well, never mind. I know not enough to truly speak of the subject." She said slowly, turning to face the ball of chaos. Randus puzzled over what she had been about to say, watching the strange woman closely. "Can you sense it? The danger." The hair on the back of his neck stood on end breath catching slightly as he turned his gaze to the ball of chaos.

…yes. He could see it. Not only through his connection to the Mistress' dreams, but through his own power as well. The dreams here were not blind to the danger posed to them, some subconscious force of this world's creator paying minor attention to it.

"Disease," he said with a shake of his head. The potential for it was there.

"I can barely see it. But the danger here is obvious." Astraea agreed. Randus opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by the sudden arrival of a new person.

"Interesting conversation you're having here." Reilly said, the beggar-like god slinging an arm across Randus' shoulders, leaning on him heavily. Randus wrinkled his nose – the smell of alcohol was only barely covered by the scent of the tea he'd given him. And he'd have to clean his suit after this, the rags Reilly wore were filthy. "Statera was being all mysterious 'bout it when they mentioned it. But I think I can see a little what you're talking about – don't let a disease run through the garden and ruin the seeds, eh?"

"I believe I said too much," Astraea said softly.

"Nonsense. Statera may be a freak of nature when it comes to seeing through things, but the rest of us aren't slouches about it either. Even I can feel the luck wavering here, somewhat. Statera may have pointed it out to us all, but, well…ah, I'm annoying you. Sorry. My luck is exceptionally bad today, so it seems I won't be making any friends." Reilly apologized, pulling off of Randus and stumbling away, swigging from a flask he'd hidden in his sleeves. Randus frowned at him and dusted off his suit, looking up to see Astraea had vanished.

Randus straightened out his suit and looked at Reilly, who shrugged helplessly, cheeks red from alcohol.

"Sorry. Seems I scared her off. Wonder what her deal is, though, huh? Quiet, she is," Reilly muttered, stumbling away and tripping over a rock, falling face-first onto the ground. Randus bit back a smirk of amusement, shaking his head at the drunkard god.

But Astraea's words echoed through him all the same. What did she mean by he was like her?

What had the Mistress really called him here for? He wasn't sure she even had a plan for it and that, more than anything, made him worried.