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VecKhthon
Khthon paused his digging efforts, the noise caused by his God-Siblings breaking his single-minded focus. By now, he had half-submerged himself in his hole, a large pile of sand forming beside him. He felt a spike of irritation at the growing ruckus. He liked the silence.
Might as well see what all the fuss is about.
He saw the loudest three and shape with their hands. One named their world, though why or how he was not sure, for he had awoken knowing his name and did not yet realize its importance. Another, who seemed to meld and disappear within the primordial fog, changed the void sea in ways he did not fully comprehend. The sea felt stranger and more disorienting, and even slightly sinister. Khthon didn't know what to feel about it yet. The last God, the brightest and loudest of the three, made vibrant and self-moving things. Not Gods, far from it, but not inanimate like sand or water. They were strangely alluring beings, with the trees emitting a rather intriguing smell.
He watched as his four-legged God-Sibling went to drink the changed water, and recoiled at the taste. A new utility for faces and mouths he had not considered before, and one he was somewhat curious about.
Maybe it was time to reshape his body a bit. Hands seemed practical, to shape and mold especially, and his fifth leg was unnecessary for efficient travel, if he were to follow the four-legged God's example. Perhaps a torso and visage like his two-legged God-Sibling would prove advantageous in some way.
His fifth leg split in two, and fragmented at the tip, forming two arms and hands. Khthon took his time shaping his new body, his control more fine than before, which was necessary for the delicate task of making fingers. Once the new limbs were complete, a mass began to grow from the middle of his body, and the vague shape of a torso and head emerged. On the head, only a large crack was placed, forming a jagged mouth. It was crude, but there was no need for vanity: functionality was more critical.
He climbed out of his hole and ambled over to the trees, opened his mouth, and let a drop of sap fall into it. It tasted... something. The sensation of taste was novel, and there was indeed a very strong and sweet taste to the sap, but it was neither pleasant or unpleasant. He turned to the sea, one of his new hand scooping up a bit of water for him to bend and drink. Once again, a taste. A different taste. Strange, metallic, and difficult to describe, but no more pleasant or unpleasant from the tree sap. He did not understand the four-legged God's reaction to it.
Perhaps such things as taste and drink are beyond his ability to enjoy. He hummed in disappointment, he had been curious, but it was ultimately unimportant. Other things are within his grasp.
He went back to his hole, and grasped a loose handful of sand from the pile. Each grain, a small part of a greater whole. Each grain, a small, yet solid and unyielding unit. He felt a kinship with it. Sand was small, but he could make it larger, stronger. Solid, unbending, like himself. He crushed the sand within his fist, and from it emerged the first stone.
He took handful after handful, wild on the joy of creating, driven by the feeling of fulfilling a deeper purpose. Some stones were hard, others brittle and prone to crumbling. Some were dark, others white, and even more a mixture of multiple colors. Each had different patterns and textures etched into them, different shapes, different size. One single stone came out translucent and shimmering in the stars's pale light, and Khthon was immediately enamored, choosing to tuck the first crystal away safely.
Once a large pile had formed around him, he turned his gaze on the large remaining sand pile. With one swift movement, Khthon's will asserted itself upon the sand, and from it emerged a large menhir, reminiscent of the form he'd awoken in. Soon, his own body gained a rock-like texture, replacing the slight haziness and indecision that clung to his form. This was him. This is what he was meant for.
"A solid base for the world. A hidden place for me," he croaked out, his first real words. "It will take time. It will take efforts. But I will build it."
He turned towards his winged God-Sister, and the other Gods gathering around her. "Go beyond the horizons if you must. I will go under. If secrets are buried, I will find them."
He buried his lower body until only his torso remained visible, and let his influence spread through the ground. Soon, where once was fickle sand, would only stand solid earth.
