Anthologica Universe Atlas / Universes / Šaol / The dirt, the rock, the water, and what moves them. / The Mountain falls
Early in time, long before all was shattered and remade, we realized we existed. No one made us; in that, we are different from all who newly hold divinity. Though their power is great, ours is everlasting. For many, oh so many turns, we went where we were needed, as the planet needed us. We shaped the land, the skies broke and filled the basins with water; some of us took to these new oceans and changed ourselves for them. We made places high, and places low. Some places we put under the water, and others we rose above it. And we were content in performing these tasks.
Then he appeared. In your winds he is called Hanjušol, we simply know him as the Bringer of Pain, He who Forged the Chains.
We do not know where he came from, but that is of no matter, for now he and those spawned by him are here, and all has changed. He rent the land as he wished, and brought new things from elsewhere, from tiny things which quickly grow into green clouds on the ground or into rocklike pillars, with green and brown flakes pointing off them, to other even stranger things which move nearly like wind and water, and grow as a storm forms and bellows…we tried to purge these new things from the land and sea, but we could not stop them from coming back, they were simply too quick for us. After a time, we saw that they even created as we, if but on their own scale. And so we knew they were right to be. But he had noticed us, for though he could not see us unless by our actions, saw those he did, and their results. And he was angered; he did not want any who could even think to challenge his power. And so he dug deep into the earth, and latched the chains hard and fast. We could not know what would happen next.
He went everywhere, hooking the chains. Some of us grew concerned, and began to destroy the chains, and that is when he pulled them tight. The pain…we did not know what pain was before then, and though today the chains can still make us ache, it is nothing compared to the agony that coursed through our minds then…we changed, that day. Most of us are no longer what we once were, some remembering, some not. Some cannot even think for themselves anymore. Split too far to be reforged in the heart. We were cowed before him, and he was pleased. We cannot remember more of what then happened…only the pain from then remains. After the pain was taken away, the newly divine told us that they were his children, but that they had grown to resent his cruelty towards any who displeased him. Some of them were then and are still now as rock in their thoughts and actions, but others we came to learn are as unchanging as water is still. They had great power over the chains, and the quick-growing things, enough that together they had chained him deep below the waters…yet at the same time not, but far, far away from our heart…we are told by those of rock this is by the power of his own chains, that the same chains which gave us such terrible pain, he is now bound forever. This pleases those of us who can still think.
There came a time when those who speak as water tried to put new chains on us…but those who are of rock told us, and we fought back. They learned then the difference between them and us: though their power is great, ours is everlasting. We are the fury of the ocean during the storm. We are the mountainside as it falls, crushing all in its path. We are the chilling blast of air which rips the heat from your mortal shell. We are the rush of the whirlwind as it rends all in its path. We are the blood of the heart which burns all creation unto anew. Yet we are also the lapping of water on a calm beach. We are the rock weathered by the wind into shapes which leave you in awe. We are the cool breeze that soothes you on a hot summer's day. We are the wind which pushes your sails to your goal. We do not rush hastily towards anger, as the young and quick ones do. But when it comes, our wrath is unmatched. And unstoppable. They have never tried again. And now the quick ones have spread, in their own ways being as we are, creating, raising, bringing down to make anew. It is not the past which can never return, but in its own way, it is good as well.
Then he appeared. In your winds he is called Hanjušol, we simply know him as the Bringer of Pain, He who Forged the Chains.
We do not know where he came from, but that is of no matter, for now he and those spawned by him are here, and all has changed. He rent the land as he wished, and brought new things from elsewhere, from tiny things which quickly grow into green clouds on the ground or into rocklike pillars, with green and brown flakes pointing off them, to other even stranger things which move nearly like wind and water, and grow as a storm forms and bellows…we tried to purge these new things from the land and sea, but we could not stop them from coming back, they were simply too quick for us. After a time, we saw that they even created as we, if but on their own scale. And so we knew they were right to be. But he had noticed us, for though he could not see us unless by our actions, saw those he did, and their results. And he was angered; he did not want any who could even think to challenge his power. And so he dug deep into the earth, and latched the chains hard and fast. We could not know what would happen next.
He went everywhere, hooking the chains. Some of us grew concerned, and began to destroy the chains, and that is when he pulled them tight. The pain…we did not know what pain was before then, and though today the chains can still make us ache, it is nothing compared to the agony that coursed through our minds then…we changed, that day. Most of us are no longer what we once were, some remembering, some not. Some cannot even think for themselves anymore. Split too far to be reforged in the heart. We were cowed before him, and he was pleased. We cannot remember more of what then happened…only the pain from then remains. After the pain was taken away, the newly divine told us that they were his children, but that they had grown to resent his cruelty towards any who displeased him. Some of them were then and are still now as rock in their thoughts and actions, but others we came to learn are as unchanging as water is still. They had great power over the chains, and the quick-growing things, enough that together they had chained him deep below the waters…yet at the same time not, but far, far away from our heart…we are told by those of rock this is by the power of his own chains, that the same chains which gave us such terrible pain, he is now bound forever. This pleases those of us who can still think.
There came a time when those who speak as water tried to put new chains on us…but those who are of rock told us, and we fought back. They learned then the difference between them and us: though their power is great, ours is everlasting. We are the fury of the ocean during the storm. We are the mountainside as it falls, crushing all in its path. We are the chilling blast of air which rips the heat from your mortal shell. We are the rush of the whirlwind as it rends all in its path. We are the blood of the heart which burns all creation unto anew. Yet we are also the lapping of water on a calm beach. We are the rock weathered by the wind into shapes which leave you in awe. We are the cool breeze that soothes you on a hot summer's day. We are the wind which pushes your sails to your goal. We do not rush hastily towards anger, as the young and quick ones do. But when it comes, our wrath is unmatched. And unstoppable. They have never tried again. And now the quick ones have spread, in their own ways being as we are, creating, raising, bringing down to make anew. It is not the past which can never return, but in its own way, it is good as well.