[center][color=00BFFF][h3]Zephyrion[/h3][/color][/center] There existed a black void, both eternal and nascent, infinite in size and yet also minuscule; time and size held no place within its black, vacuous depths. There was only nothingness. Something stirred within its depths. Something began to [i]exist[/i] within its depths, taking shape, willing itself into existence from what had previously been nothing in the most complete, literal, and incomprehensible meaning of the word. The Storm manifested itself. The Storm raged with a fury that could rend apart an entire world, if such a thing even existed. Alas, such things were yet to come, and so it was rather peacefully and uneventfully that the Storm calmed. Alive, it suddenly coalesced and created a new, sentient being. Zephyrion, snapping into awareness, blinked in a nonchalant and childish way as he absorbed all that was around him like any infant is wont to do in its first moments. He observed the strangers before him: there was Fate, Amul'Sharar, and mather other gods that had already formed or were in the process of doing so...somehow, the knowledge poured in. He understood all of them, knew their names, and was aware of their nature. A change suddenly overtook the infantile Zephyrion, and he proclaimed with exuberance, [b][color=Gold]"I am ZEPHYRION! I HAVE AWAKENED!"[/color][/b] His words were thunderous and might have shook mountains to their core, were there any mountains to speak of; but as it was, there was not even a medium through which sound might travel. The others would not even hear his speech in this empty vacuum so much as sense the thoughts that he projected. The god's empty words echoed back through his own body. [h1]"Come."[/h1] Zephyrion watched as Fate glided through the abyss towards him. Or was it he who was moving, guided by the influence of some strange pull? Ultimately it was no matter; motion and space were still irrelevant. [i]"Thou art Change,"[/i] Fate stated softly. Zephyrion scoffed, but he accepted this role. It was natural. He was the First Gale, the Wind of Change. He looked towards his peers, visibly unsure of what was to come. While there was no Change now and nor could any exist, he understood its concept on a fundamental level, down to his very core. He [i]was[/i] Change. He wanted to spread it through every nook and cranny of existence, but knew not how to do so when there was no existence, nothing to ever change or exist in a flux, only that dark abyss drowning and engulfing them all in its emptiness. [hider=Summary] Zephyrion is born and named God of Change. He does not spend Might to strengthen himself. [/hider]