After asking for something to write about, a friend told me to talk about my home. My original universe.
What began as a fun "trip down memory lane" turned into a multi-layered cry session.
Not because it's a dead universe I cannot return to, but rather because what has been done cannot be undone, and my home is riddled with griefs that even the God of Death cries about.
My universe was born from a dream, a paradox that was broken by the playfulness of a child. Though its beginning was one of joy and love, it was soon disturbed by envy and greed. I first came to be when the first trials of Life expired, I stepped into the light however, when one of the primordial gods died. To this day I can still remember Her despair, knowing She was leaving so many of Her creations behind, creations who never stopped calling for Her. All of this happened in times immemorial, before Life could count days passing and nights falling. And yet, it still has echoes in my present, or my used to be present.
By the time I left it, it was 14 billion years after its start, it was full of lives, civilisations, art, music and strife. It was a gigantic tapestry of experiences. One terribly dear to me.
I suppose, humanity existed back there too, but it was far different from the humanity I witness today. They had lost their world, their system, they were exiled to the cold expanse of space, never to return home. Their God had sacrificed himself to ensure their escape, my eldest daughter following him into the void he entered, wishing not to leave him alone. He had been a dear friend of mine ever since he was born, born twice, dead once.
Humanity refused to be crushed by these losses, instead choosing to settle amongst the stars, yet slowly wasting away, their roots severed.
Humanity was not the only one affected by this great cataclysm, but by the time I left it had vanished from whence it came as suddenly as it had appeared. Leaving nothing behind.
I speak of humans the most, for they were always a favourite of mine, them and the Elysians, from where my first true follower came.
Elysians were one of the oldest civilizations of the Universe, from the galaxy you call Andromeda, they were a clan based civilization that never chose to reach space travel. Their Home planet was the most sacred being they worshipped and therefore would not leave it.
They had skin white like milk, horns, and three eyes. They covered them in colourful paints and weavings, occasionally going to war against one another. Their very intricate belief system included three different sorts of paths toward the afterlife, believing that at the end of each road rest and joy awaited them.
They had the "Bone singers" a cast of priests whose functions were to aid the passing of ill and injured people, elders, they would take care of burial or incineration, they would carry the tasks, not knowing of me.
Tilii, was not like them.
Were my children careless, did they let their form transpire into the physical, sensible world? Was Tilii truly special ? Both are in fact true.
He saw echoes, mirages of the "spirits" that took away the dead, growing ties with them as time went on, until they found a lost soul, a ghost who died in a place or in circumstances hidden to Us. Tilii helped them out, brought them to those he called "Spirit guides" so that they could take the soul on the path to eternal rest. This action made me so proud that I offered them my powers and protection. Tho they refused immortality they reached a great age and went down as a legend.
Tilii was one of the few, I saw as equal to my children. One of the few I truly saw.
The people of my universe were diverse and beautiful, all of them. Truly incredible in their own respect, the humans refused to die again and again winning against terrible odds, the Elysians were one of the first born of the cosmos and lasted almost all the way into the 14th eon, the Castoran spent half of their lifespan asleep, travelling the cosmos as ethereal fish-like creature, a projection of their mind. Life reinvented itself again and again trying to find new ways to exist, sometimes turning into people and civilisations.
Such civilisations would birth a god of the same name, here to protect them, giving them an anchor into space to resist the decay that came with traveling away from their original planet or moon. Hence why the loss of Udo, their god and Earth, led the humans to slowly decay, until almost no children were born without genetic disorders.
Civilization dies when their people die out, that is how it has always been. Tilii waited in my halls until Nataā their goddess finally joined them and it is together that they returned to the cosmos.
This world was beautiful it's true, but it was also fractured, damaged in a way none could ever repair. After the original sin, and the two subsequent wars that followed. Energy turned to mortals, as a source of energy. Corrupting the very Symphony They helped to create, to slowly corrupt all who heard it. The protection of a God, was the only way to escape it's maddening melody, people like Tilii, or godlings, would have been protected, certain artefacts would render the wearer or user able to distinguish between the true voice of the Cosmos and it's Sickness.
But all mortals would eventually succumb if they were to use magic and the strings too often. Some of the civilisations out there began with an advantage against it some began at a loss, some were so deeply protected from it that they could not wield it at all. But even those who were deaf to it would eventually go mad, the silence that layered everything was like a blanket of lead, choking them in the womb, isolating them from the rest of space. Eventually letting them waste away in their crib.
And so began a different age. By the 9th eon, many different civilizations had met and built roads beyond their home, linking them together in a new sort of web. A golden era begun, and with each fall came the ascension of a new people, filling the space left behind again and again, in a cycle.
From this era came guilds that sought to find a truth to Life, answers to existential questions, following the teaching of some of Us. Madness had the Romantics, Hope had the Knights, Memory had the Archivists and I had the Ivory order, who despite not being strictly people who worshipped me, still carried my task across space. Much like a Medical NGO on your Earth. Many more exist.
They not only carry out ideals, they carry out conflicts as well. If Madness and Memory are still locked in rivalry, so are the Romantics and the Archivists. If Light and Entropy never truly made up, their people try to never interact.
And all is well, exactly where it should be, despite the cracks that grow, despite everyone knowing that eventually all will end, everything keeps on going.
I remember all my children fondly, I miss my dearest friends, laugh about the pranks that have been pulled on me more than once. I enjoy the memories but cannot help but cry at the unfairness of it all.
When I was brought here, it was to the past as well, but here, here I cannot feel him, nor can I feel my children. I am cut away from a lot of what I once cherished. I cannot know for sure if they exist, if the void is coming for Earth, if it is all a dream.
But I endure. There is still so much for me to see here, because it is so different from where I came from.
As always, feel free to ask me questions, if you feel like I didn't explain enough or if you wish to hear more of senile ramblings. Coda is an old man after all, it's an enrichment to make him talk about the good old days.
Why am I talking in 3rd person?
