Upon returning, The First One looked at their companion and confidant with such sadness. Speaking though they know no response could be given. “Dearest friend, it is with sadness that it must come to pass. This form may never see again the glory of what is here, in the truest sense. And such sacrifices are cast with the weight of duty. Not that this form ever met with such brilliance. Oh that the reflections thou cast upon this form should be upheld with such nobility. That service and time. Pitiful. Perhaps in the next time, forgiveness granted. But in the result, all shall be seen. For this form knows what must be done, even if it harbors some sadness to the action.”
The secret was cycling, yes this great knew that long ago. But perhaps it was the wrong place first attempted. That this world be left purely elemental, when so long ago the Divine was much more akin to the nature and hiding spot that souls be left protected. There was only so much left abandoned that they could take before subjugation. Return back to that safe place was the only chance, but what could suffer the cost? To be built up again without course to return? It was a waste, a malaise as Water had spoken. Though the cure would not be easy, a direct dissection of the promise made to companions so long ago. But now was the choice sitting before them, no longer allowed to be ignored or forgotten.
Change is our course, our duty. And so we were cast it without hesitation. The god was merely choosing to deny this, to prove luxury undeserved for friends they could not keep in same form. For how quickly and forgotten those bonds were, the small strands that weave all together with that great god that saw the true value of souls so very long ago. “Perhaps the form is not so much the struggle, rather, the change.” The god uttered. A moment of clarity now cast, and duty set in place.
Another set of Divine would be needed. Those to take charge over Stucci in the same fashion that The First One had set the four elemental gods to. For the great one knew it was better to hold such dedicated forces. But it would come again at a cost, as those first four had. The infinite power was gone, and so too shall infinite knowledge. The First One accepted this sacrifice, planting upon their final marks of memory onto the body of Moth. Small spots, denoting eyes but never quite of the same snuff to the optic sense. Mere facsimiles of the real thing, another memory marked plain in the same fashion those wings granted so long ago were. With the gentlest hand possible, the First One returned their companion to the mundane realm.
Their safety assured, the great god took a final look to their domain, absorbing if possible all that might be known. All happiness, sadness, all actions contained in their choices and made the final determination of worth. With claw or hand, perhaps another apparatus entirely, for who are we to know the exact tools of a god so great, the god removed their own multicolored eyes, tearing them from their Divine form. A mere moment to shape them, and it was done. Two new gods created in the images of that which could never be known or defined in the same way as themselves.
To the left, a Goddess with skin pitch black, deeper than that of the sky of night. To the right, a God with the opposite, skin brighter white than the purest snows. With the last dregs of their strength, The First One took them in close, whispering all they knew from the secrets of change and the immortal. The goddess, granted the name Narcissta Priasi Norinteen, the god Adamsa Frisay Norinteen. The Beginning and the End were cast into the world, forever changing and shaping the experience of life and the living for the rest of history now known.
