[centre][color=black][b]Vowzra, Level 4 God of Time

7 Might 1 Free Point[/b][/color][/centre]

This would not do. No, this would not do at all. No good could come of this state of affairs for any. Not the Dyun or the Cimex and not Mankind, not even those among them who honoured this Chaotic and Violent - and, it would seem, Foolish - One. For Vowzra, however, what was most important was the fact that the continuance of this darkness would simply lead the world to stray from that which was Fated. A moment of darkness is good, he was very supportive of such an initiative, but eternal darkness was not the way. It was not natural. There had to be dawn after night, light at the end of the tunnel, the sun would have to rise once more. That was the way of the world and the way of things, and that was as it was Fated to be. Vestec, as chaotic as he may be, could not ordain it otherwise.

Still hanging where he had been when he created life with the Great Spirit, Vowzra raised his arm once more, his palm facing upwards. Slowly, the bark of his skin cracked and parted, and from it emerged a single seed. It was completely black, and perfectly round. Its colour was dull and its surface rough, as though specks of sand littered it. Vowzra raised it to his wooden lips and kissed it. With a suddenness which surprised even Vowzra, the seed burst alight, its  brightness blinding him. And that light pulsed, for it was alive. Releasing it, Vowzra watched as the brightness of a thousand suns descended upon the septic planet.

As the living seed of light descended, winter and darkness parted before it, and wherever its purifying light shone, winter and darkness retreated. It was as though they had seen the wrath of the mighty one, and they could not stand before its ravaging fires and  the beating war drum of its blazing life. It landed neither in the north nor in the south, the east would not be its place of descent, nor would the west. The seed landed in the very centre of Arguis' continent.

The moment its sanctified presence was felt in the Arguillian earth, a renewed pulse of life was released. Then another. Pulse after pulse shook the planet, and wherever it reached - and there was nowhere within the earth that it did not - all things regained their livelihood and energy. It was as though all things had been returned to their finest moments of existing. An old and dying worm would find itself young and alive once more. The ant which had been ripped apart would find its body returned to it and would go about its duty once again. The beetle whose shell had been pierced would find itself once more clad in its protective armour. All things within the earth, or whose roots lay within the earth, found themselves once more pulsing with life.

Yet that was not all, for the seed was a seed after all. It grew roots, and its roots reached deep into the earth. Some found a nerve of the Astral home and became one with it, but deep indeed did those roots go, and once they had cemented themselves into the Galbarian clay, [url=http://img01.deviantart.net/3fc5/i/2015/090/e/3/ein_sof_by_noahbradley-d8nwe6e.jpg]tendrils of wood, bursting with light, shot up into the air, parting darkness and winter as they grew.[/url]
The tree grew wide and tall, it pierced the clouds and one down on the ground would not know how far it rose - perhaps it rose up into the Celestial Above and continued on eternally into those forlorn spaces. Its circumference was a kilometre, for Vowzra could see, and in height it was twelve kilometres, until it stood there, dwarfing all things in creation. This was [url=http://img15.deviantart.net/ce1c/i/2012/156/2/e/forest_by_noahbradley-d52duwy.jpg]The Living Tree, The Tree of Light, Orabil.[/url]

Slowly, a humanoid face appeared in the bark of the mighty tree, with a beard of bark and lips closed tight, and eyes - when they opened, for now they were closed - which shone with a green radiance. All who were in need of wisdom or advice could find it before the hallowed tree.

All around, the winter fell apart and the darkness withdrew. Only in the farthest reaches of Arguilla would the darkness and winter remain, and within a radius of five hundred kilometres of the tree, all was peace. It was an area completely free of battle and death. The Dyun would find their hatred subdued and their lust for battle cowed. The Cimex would find their territorial ways inhibited and all desire for attacking others gone. Even the mighty lion would not find it in itself to hunt the deer, and the deer, out of compassion and pity, would offer itself willingly to the predator, that it may survive. And within all creation, a pressing desire to go on pilgrimage would grow. Within the ant or the dragon alike, a desire to go and visit the great tree, to honour it and satisfy the yearning in their chests. The longer one resisted the urge, the greater it would grow until they would one day awaken to find that it is a concern more pressing than life itself.

The fish in the sea, whether a Sea-Ant or a great Krakenian Demon, would also feel the need, and being sea creatures, all they can do is visit a great root which had found its way to sea.

The Eternal Darkness had been set alight, the Eternal Winter had been melted away, peace prowled the land as a panther, encompassed all as bark encompasses a tree. The Day of Darkness was done, the Week of Winter was over.

Feeling that Fate had not yet completed its work, Vowzra descended upon the continent and followed the elusive trail of Fate. He walked where the Eternal Night had left its mark, searching for one amongst the countless bodies of those brought down by the creatures of their nightmares. The presence of the god put an end to those who still hung on to life. They would return to the Guardian, and he would give them bodies new, and they would not have to live with the memories of this hellish day. His destined walk led him to a woman lying beneath a tree, blood flowing from her neck and satiating the earth - blood was so very different from water. As he approached, he saw the image of the blood-sucking creature which had been feasting on her until the light of Orabil turned it to dust. Even in the vision he could hear the angry hissing of the misbegotten thing, infuriated that he had interrupted it while it dined.

[color=black][b]'Be Gone Vile Thing...'[/b][/color] he thundered, and the spirit of the creature, attempting to ride his mind, scampered away in primal fear, back to Escre. Its instinct to survive, even in death, telling it that this was no foe it wished to make. He turned to the woman. He saw the blood which oozed from her neck. He saw the signs of her transformation and impending doom. She would not survive as a bloodsucker 'neath Orabil's cleansing light. His eyes remained cold as they surveyed her, and he noted - as he had always known - that she was pregnant. It was to this child that the trail of Fate clung, like flies on a corpse, and vultures. 
Without further thought on the matter, he bent down, and with one wooden finger, he cut her chest open from neck to nether. The transforming woman gave out a blood-curdling shriek and attempted to claw at the gods face, chest, arms, but to no avail. She was powerless as he reached within her and, with gentleness Vowzra did not expect of himself, pulled the bloodied thing for a child out. It was not yet ready for life. He released it and watched it float before him. A small membrane of energy slowly grew to surround it, a replacement for the life-giving womb of its mother. 

The mother was sobbing now, her tears mingling with her blood, her mauled chest agape and her innards revealed for the world to behold. Vowzra watched her beating heart and her lungs. They were far more interesting to watch when they were working rather than still. Her sobs intensified as he watched and became pitiful shrieks of misery and pain, she thrashed and shook her head, she dug with her nails into the earth as if that would return to her all which was lost, and finally, her eyes. They opened wide and looked towards him. They were wide with hope, he could make it all go away. He could put her out of her misery.
Vowzra surveyed her for a while, slightly intrigued by her actions. He was, however, far more irritated by her lack gratefulness at what he was doing. Not only was he saving her child and helping it towards a destiny and Fate far greater than any mortal, he was also saving her from a vile existence as a creature of the night. Her eyes looked to him with hope, her bloodied and soil-stained hands reached to him. There was so much hope; his children were truly beautiful. 
With that, he turned away, deaf to her cries and pleas. In that moment, he saw; those eyes would haunt him eternally.

Vowzra carried the child to a quiet place, far from its people and all sentient life. He sat near a tree, atop  a hill, and watched the child for a while. He noted its imperfections, how it had yet to grow and become what he envisioned. Its movements were strange, as if in pain, yet he knew it was not. It was most strange, for as he sat there he had the greatest feeling of deja vu. He had been here before, and he had done this very same thing. He remembered that vision, the one he could not remember but had thought to be a memory. Or perhaps it was a vision of a future which could be.

[color=fff200][b][i]There was a hill. And on the hill there was a tree. And by the tree there sat an old man of wood. And to one side of him there was a ram. And to his other side there was an orb. And in the orb, there was a child. And that child called him father.[/i][/b][/color]

Vowzra looked to his other side, but there was no ram there. It was strange for a god to feel that a part of him was missing, but that was what Vowzra felt as he stared into that space where Zera should have been floa- 
Vowzra stood up in surprise. Zera? Yes, that was its name. Thus it was, and so shall it be. Though he felt the ram's absence, he knew with a certainty that it was not fated to be here. Perhaps it was once, in a long ago memory and a far off world, but that was not here and that was not now. Fate had written a different song, and all he could do was play it. 
He turned back to the child within the orb, enough time had passed. He formed a small orb of ethereal light on one of his sharp wooden fingers, it hovered and pulsed for a little while before growing into an orb the size of a coconut. A strange aura surround it, like staring down upon the earth from a dizzying height and a high-pitched screech ringing in ones head. It reminded Vowzra of the Hells of Time, and the gods essence bristled slightly at the terrifying memory.

He blew the orb towards the child in the membrane and watched with interest as the orb entered the child's chest. The membrane surrounding it wavered then disappeared, and Vowzra saw the infant grow into a toddler, muttering a wow every now and again. The toddler became larger, growing into a child of seven years. It stood before him, not confused or alarmed, but calm and confident. It looked around itself, not with curiosity, for it already knew what all this was, it looked with its eyes but did not see, for its mind was far off, thinking of things the wise would struggle with. It grew once more, muscles grew stronger and its naked form became that of a young man, perhaps twenty years of age. At last its gaze fell on Vowzra, and a strange feeling rose up in the deity.

[color=9e0b0f][i]'Father,'[/i][/color] it spoke with a voice which shook the Timeless One to the very core of his essence. It was shocking to him that this simple creature, even though it was a child chosen from amongst his children, would choose that word of all the ones it knew as its first. He did not understand why this feeling surged through him...as though this little creature truly belonged to him. It was a part of him.

[color=black][b]'My Child,'[/b][/color] he whispered, [color=black][b]'do you know your purpose in this world?'[/b][/color] 
It looked up at him, one eye a bright white, the other a deep black.
[color=darkred][i]'Yes Father, I know my purpose.'[/i][/color] Vowzra nodded.
[color=black][b]'Venture forth young Zerabil, you are the first of my Prophets to Mankind. To be a mighty warrior and a mighty leader and a man remembered till the end of days. Blessed is all you touch and all you love, blessed are your descendants and all who follow you, blessed is the earth you tread and your place of rest. Go, know that I watch over you and will always protect my obedient servants.' [/b][/color]
At this, the young Zerabil got to his knees and bowed deeply, he unlike any other understanding the meaning of these words. When he looked back up, the god of Time and Creation, were gone. Upon standing, he found himself [url=https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/12/ef/11/12ef11273016537dccc0cce4c047975d.jpg]clothed in a coat[/url], breechcloth and leggings, a well-crafted [url=http://baw-weapons.yez.dk/uploads/7/5/5/2/7552490/6928924_orig.jpg]wooden club[/url] in his right hand. A quiver of arrows hung at his back, and at his hip [url=http://classic-bow.com/catalog/images/0245_recurve_bow.jpg]a bow[/url].

And so it was that Zerabil, the first blessed of Vowzra, emerged into the world. 

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6 Might to Create Darkness Cleansing and Winter Ending Holy Site - Orabil
1 Might to Create a Hero - Zerabil

0 Might 1 Free Point remaining
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