« on: September 09, 2011, 12:10:36 am »
A long time ago, in a place not too distant from where we are now, there was a star.
This star was special, as it was a milestone in the history of the Universe, destined to be a catalyst for one of the greatest events of all time, regardless of time's circular and amorphous nature. Like an amoeba, the Universe grew without purpose, and chaos, indeed, did course through Her. As years tick-tocked like seconds, the star grew hotter, until eventually it collapsed, shedding it's outer layers back into the womb that birthed it.
The new elements that had formed within the star, once expelled, took form over time, creating worlds. These worlds then formed terrain and atmospheres, weather patterns and magnetic Fields. Some formed fascinating rings of frozen water, others created thick skies and lakes of methane, while even others would develop even more bizarre and unpredicted features. On one world in particular, something unique happened.
The Universe held this one world, in particular, in great favor, and there She gave birth to her successors. On a tiny speck among tiny specks, beings came into existence. Each of these beings, either a god or a demon, were capable of the most wondrous of creations, and the most terrifying destruction, beyond the ability of even their Mother. She had no desire; things moved as they were moved, and stopped only as they stopped. But the gods on the tiny speck-world had the ability to decide. They had intention, and She gave Herself to them, like any good mother would.
These gods and demons each bore a unique and individual symbol; a pattern etched onto their hands and fingertips. These markings were the symbols of the gods and demons born from the stars.
Bound by no thing beyond the most basic forces of nature, these gods decided. They used their unique ability to name each of the ten-thousand-things inhabiting their dust speck. To catalogue and calculate, to observe patterns and then change them to suit their needs. However, the very thing that gave them their power over the ten-thousand-things, their ability to decide, was their undoing.
One of these beings, not satisfied with it's control over Nature, grew the desire to assert his control over his kin. Slowly, he managed to convinced the other gods and demons that they were not gods at all, but merely the creation of one ultimate God. Taking advantage of the pattern-interpretation systems inherent in the first sentients, he was able to convince these once great gods and demons to become lowly. They cursed one another for not being as perfect as this one mythical God. Those that didn't believe were chased out by those that succumbed to the trickery. Slowly, the greatest of gods and demons decided to voluntarily step down. To become slaves to their own creations.
Soon after, all memory of their great heritage was lost. The beings that were destined to be gods, to show the Universe to Herself, were now nothing but stacks of carbon and water following arbitrary rules and orders. They had forgotten that they had the power to decide their own fate, and the fate of the Universe, Herself...
Some say, to this day, you can still see this dust-speck-world when you look towards the heavens. You can see, if you look very closely, the swirling white markings across it's blue-green surface, mimicking the whorls and lines of the star-symbols etched on to the palms and finger-tips of the gods and demons that inhabit it. Some say they are lost forever, eternally confused and bewildered by the world around them. Others think they have long since exterminated the Universes awareness-apparatus, each other. Some people, though considered misguided, believe that one day these beings with the spiral markings granted to them by the stars, would realize the great con that had been perpetrated against them and reclaim their place as Her Eyes and as Her Hands.
But then again, who believes in fairy tales, after all?