End Of The Beginning(Exalted/Aberrant)

[SirNitram]

(Yea, a bit of a Mary Sue in places, in the form of the character 'Gravitas' from my time playing Aberrant, but I'm allowed my weakness. One possible way the Novas of Aberrant created the world of Exalted.. And how they paid dearly for it.)

The formless void was everywhere. The dozens of Novas stood in it as unmoving rocks, stability points within the roiling chaos which was everything and nothing at once. Divas Mal stood at the front of the group, his face creased in annoyance.

"This," He stated simply. "Is a very poor result for crafting a universe." A concept of anger distilled briefly out of the chaos, then leapt away, seeking out things to be angry at. "I don't suppose any of you have any ideas to make something from nothing?"

As a tiny peice of blackness formed and whirled away in the malestrom, the least-impressive of the Novas watched, and thought. In the meantime, the Confederate's anger grew overmuch and he stamped his foot. Flames roared around him... And there was suddenly ground, racing out from around him.

"....Now that," Breathed Leviathan. "Is godhood! How'd you do that?" The enormous Aberration skittered along the bare, unsoiled rock, examining it. "But there's no soil or anything. What the hell, Con?"

"Can it, you oversized Tuna!" The fiery Nova shouted. "I don't know how it happened, but it proves I'm more of a god than some freakshow mutant who can't control his Taint!"

The din rose in the formless chaos on the shelf of bare rock, as the Teragen fell to infighting once more, the Tainted against those who saw themselves as perfect, beautiful divinities. Only two stood near the edge, as one held the tiny speck of darkness that had formed earlier. Behind him stood Jeremiah Scripture, head tilted. "You understand this place, don't you?" He asked.

"I do. It's reacting like home did when I discovered the Plank Scaling effect. Our thoughts and emotions make shapes.. Sometimes fleeting, sometimes far firmer. This is what happened when he thought of 'Nothing'. A perfect speck of void incarnate. Of course, it's infinitely large on the inside, due to lack of spatial or temporal dimensions.."

"...Please, a little less technical." Scripture sighed quietly. This one had proven useful so far, for his understanding of the universe, but Mal had been right to think he was too rooted in what he knew already. "Mal was creating a universe for us. I imagined he would grant us heaven, or maybe a world without humans, or.."

The man sighed. "Conceptualize heaven. Distill all the ideas of it through all the religions of the world we left into a single word." He said, almost like a teacher lecturing a student. "When you have that word, speak it while channeling all of your reserves through your Node." The holy man seemed skeptical still, and the man relented. "In the beginning was the Word.."

Scripture seemed to grasp it in that sense, and focused. The chaos shuddered. The word that was spoken would have shattered a Baseline's mind, too perfect, too big, too infused with power. The unformed chaos shuddered, and began to crystallize around the two.

It was bigger than a city. It was bigger than a continent. The sky was crystal, the rivers flowing gold. All of them could sense the flows of energy through it; perfection, hundreds of sites where a moment's meditation would restore even the most drained Nova. The fighting, not surprisingly, had stopped now. Mal, holding the Confederate's body aloft, tossed him aside and strode forward. "...Incredible, my love." He whispered, even his impossible stoicness dispelled by the raw power. As Jeremiah and Divas Mal embraced, the others spread out, exploring it.

It took several weeks, but as they tested their influence on this pliable reality, the city took shape quickly. But when a city block, including Mal's personal home, was annihilated in yet another battle between two rivals, the Novas met in the central palace, a crystalline structure that stabbed to the sky.

"I understand the passions run high." Spoke Divas, waving a hand. "But I had perfectly aligned that structure to channel the energies of this place for my own benefit. I cannot allow this to continue here."

"Where else would we go, idiot?" Snapped Leviathan. "This is all we've got. Unless you know how to make more..." The room verged on madness and battle, before a throat was cleared. It was Scripture.

"Well, we made this place. How hard would it be to make a world, more accomodating to such?" He asked simply, downplaying the fact it was his power and the most absent of their number who had divined how.

The one who had instructed Jeremiah was easily found, once again in the formless chaos that extended infinitely, meditating on the flows around him. "I know why you've come." He spoke, lifting a hand. "And no, I haven't developed foresight. This place doesn't obey time as a continuous march." He explained. "I will spare the less science-savvy the details. You want me to teach you what I taught Jeremiah."

Stunned, the others did little but followed to the patch of rock that the Confederate had forged. "Is this.. Bigger?" Bounty asked, as they travelled what would have felt like days, were there any way to tell. "It feels bigger. We should be exhausted..."

"Complicated question. Here, on this rock, there is time and space and such things. An experiment I conducted. Things go forward here. Bounty, Leviathan, Clarion, Inferno. Each of you will be taken by Epoch to the required position. Focus on your own power and speak a word. Doesn't matter which one, just focus all your power through the Node at the time." The short man instructed simply. "Elemental forces." He sighed when everyone just stared. "We stand on what might be called Earth. The Confed, for all that he was a useless hatfucker of a racist, gave us something to start with. Four more elemental poles to create a world. Earth, fire, water, air, life. A living world where you can fight and build and create whatever you damn well please."

Creating a world was a shaky start. It was flat, not round, and it took considerable thought to create a sky that properly alternated, but it happened. By the time the sky was completed, the Maker, as he was rapidly becoming known, had retreated to his studies and investigations again. The world was taxing, though. Epoch constantly had to ensure that time flowed properly, and the four chosen elemental 'poles' were demanding constant renewal. Thus the Novas sought out the Maker again.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful.." Spoke Bounty, "But this is rather tiring. Isn't there a way to make this self-sufficent? The world we left didn't require this kind of effort." There was murmured ascent.

"We hadn't made that world from scratch. But this was a foresawn problem." The Maker smiled. "I have created my first thing in my abode in the Celestial City."

It had been a largely ignored building, but the flows of Quantum energy now were obvious. They did not so much flow in, strengthening the user, as flow out from a large table. "I call them the Games Of Divinity." He spoke. "The gods play games, the old myths say, so why not build the game to make sure everything worked?"

The Novas walked up to the table, and tiny figures shimmered into existance. "What are the rules?" Mal asked simply, examining his 'peice'. "And how does this power anything?"

"We extrude energies constantly, we all know this. Concentration, emotions.. All these things cause surges. Thus, the Games are made to be played one person at a time, inspiring heights of emotion and concentration, thought and enjoyment that siphon off the power created by these without noticable fatigue. It flows into the world, empowering the poles. As for the rules.. None yet. Each person goes in a turn. The rules will make themselves, in accordance with actions. And change, as well. No game can enthrall forever unless it changes."

"Unless it's Everquest." The flickering form of Synapse said.

"...Shut up." The Maker said, shaking his head. "Mal, I set it up to accept you as the first player, as you are the leader here." And thus the Games began, and Creation was maintained by a simple act. The Maker had descended on the world, as had many others, when they weren't playing. Tiny civilizations were starting to blossom, but even with the Games maintaining the world, the world had become chaotic again. This time, the Maker did not wait to be called upon. Mal found him in the sky, shaping energy flows.

"Are you going to say you know what I will ask, once more?" The leader of the Primordials, as they now called themselves, asked.

"No. Time flows here. I can't employ that beautifully paradoxical method safely. Time occasionally flows backwards, but it would still require you to ask." The Maker said, as the strands of energy siphoned off the little sun that had been crafted. "But I've a guess."

"The world isn't stable. We make our little toys, but they die too easily." Mal said simply. "You're trying to figure that out now."

"Correct. From the flows of energy that make our sun, I shall make one to define the day and light and perfection. Thought you'd like that." A grin, impish and unrepentent. "Bounty's been helping me define the night, and changing life, and the month, and we're mapping the basics of how to create aspects of herself to govern the elements and the year."

"Proactive. I like it." Mal admitted against himself. The man had been rebellious on Earth, but now he was very handy to have around, even if he barely indulged. "Gods, then. For they are the ones that make the world tick."

"If you say so." Said the Maker simply. "I shall endeavour to make them in my view of gods, of course." He said, a tiny barb, but Mal simply nodded his approval. The Sun and Moon were born, and in time, other Primordials were asked to lend their insight and talents. Epoch and Scripture crafted five together, ensuring time flowed in the right direction, and at Scripture's insistance, that Fate began to play out it's hand. The last had taken an exceptional amount of work, and had led to some disagreement.

"What do you mean, they need to be here? It's our city!" Leviathan roared over the soft sound of a massive loom. "I will not have those little... things you made invade our city just because you think it'd be convenient!"

Scripture frowned at the massive Aberrant. "But it was outlined clearly. The device must reside outside of Fate and in stability. That is here."

"Then make 'em use it remotely! They can sit in that dump of a world! I only just finished making a sea I like in here for my home!" Bellowed the abomination.

And so the arguments went, until Epoch, Scripture, and Mal used the methods to make the sky to reforge the nighttime, creating proper stars. By linking parts of the sky to the device, they reversed the oldest ideas of astrology: Instead of the stars telling people their fates, Fate could be inscribed through the stars. Tiny spiders, crafted by the Maker, served as intermediaries and error-checkers. And again, things went well.

It was none of the now self-styled Primordials that came to the Maker this time. Now it was the Gods, weary of their endless work and toil for beings who thought them less than dirt, and the mortal races of Creation, approached the Maker as he meditated atop the mountain that had formed from the slain Confederate. Even Bounty was there, though she used her 'title' now, Gaia.

They beseeched the Primordial who always stood apart. The living beings of the world were little more than playthings to the Primordials in the distant city, the Gods naught but soulless servants to most. Even Gaia spoke on the behalf of the elementals her children, the Five Dragons, had spawned, little more than slaves.

But there were restrictions. The Gods had sworn on the fabric of Creation not to disobey their masters, and to intercede if the Dragon Kings, Jadeborn, or the formless, mad, and chaotic Fair Folk threatened the city. The Maker sat in meditation, trying to devise a solution, but it was the Sun who spoke up.

"These beings you made," He spoke, gesturing to the hairless creatures who, in some ways, resembled a less-perfect version of some of the Primordials. "Could they not be useful? They have sworn no oaths. Though they do not possess the power or technology of the others.."

Two days and two night passed before the Maker spoke again. A tent city had formed. "Sol, Luna, Maidens, Dragons." He rumbled. "I shall take a fragment of each of your very selves, and break it up into a multitude of shards. You shall take these to the race of men and invest in them a fragment of yourself. They shall be unhindered by the oaths of the Primordials, and wield terrible powers. And perhaps, with enough training and assistance, they shall defeat them."

And so the work was done. The Sun and Moon each crafted three hundred fragments from chunks removed, and searched the mortals. Sol gifted those who strove for heroics and perfection, Luna, those who embodied the changeful nature she herself had. By powerful oaths sealed between the two, to the private ambitions of both, they bonded pairs of these soul-essences, each perfect Solar to be bound to a Lunar, and vice versa, unable to act against one another.

The Maidens sought out the planners and thinkers who resonated with the very natures of themselves, and forged a hundred shards out of their combined natures. Thus the Sidereals were born, and taught how to manipulate the stars and Fate, to advise and assist the rulers.

The Dragons, thoughtful and careful, advised by Gaia, invested their power more diffusely. Ten men and just shy of ten thousand women were granted power, and the fragments were made to be inherited. Though the cost in power was great, they united into stronger wholes when working together. Thus the Dragonblooded appeared and multiplied, each invested with the powerful emotions and natures of the elements.

It was some years before the invested mortals were ready, but it mattered little. The Primordials were ever-more-engrossed with the Games, and barely noticed the simple, little world. It was only when the Maker strode into the building that had once been his home, and now the centre of the main entertainment, that they looked up.

"You will cease your toying with the mortals." The Maker intoned simply. "Or you shall be destroyed, one at a time."

Divas Mal rose up, striding across the chamber. He was more powerful now than ever before. "By who? You? The little gods you scurry around with? They are bound against such. Not even the Fair Folk you've hammered into stability are permitted to act against me and mine."

"Words have power here. You might pretend to have your full names as terms of address, to pretend at immortality, but you are not. I have seen you in all your weakness." The Maker said. "I name you, Mal. And in naming you, I begin this rebellion." The other Primordials.. All aware that this one had their names, and in them, a fragment of their weakness, stood and advanced. "Before you think fighting me will work.. Why don't you go outside this building?" The Maker grinned.

Outside, the Celestial City burned as the Exalted strode forth to war. Gravitas, as he had once been known, vanished away before anyone could attack him. Left with no choice but to fight for their very existance, the once-Novas took up arms and began the war.

[The Grim Squeaker]

Hmmm, pretty nice. Good work

[rhoenix]

As I've said elsewhere, I thought this was fine work, and not just because I've a soft spot for the Exalted universe. I liked your interpretation of the Primordials, and who they were before the fall, and the ushering in of the First Age.