Moren studied the temple in silence. The structure had been made for them…by who? Her siblings gave their own answers, but she did not believe it to be anything so abstract.
The End of one is the Beginning of another…What would one who created gods be if not a god in its own right? Was it one which had perished? One which had been lost, yet to be found?
She didn’t know, and maybe she never would.
Moren flew out, departing as Arstus decorated his alcove and Adria had gone who knew where. As she floated above the temple, contemplating, the world
shook.Beyond, she witnessed countless Ideals. A myriad of concepts, the perfection of the Forms filling their dull world to the brim – if for but a moment. Moren was still marveling at it all when one of her siblings strove to capture one, only for it to undo itself.
Knowledge was shattered.
Gleaming pieces trailed across the skies like a meteor shower. Some were collected. Others escaped. And she…she was granted insight.
Perfect darkness. An umbral veil cloaked the whole world, from the gentlest shadows to the deepest abyss. Gloom pervaded and permeated, but there was nothing lacking in such a world. It was enough just like that; everything was beautiful in the Eternal Night. She could feel it all in the darkness, for all was in the cup of her palms, and under her watchful gaze; she was everywhere and nowhere at once. Then, the night swallowed it up all, devouring itself until
nothing remained. Absolute Death. The true End, where not so much as a speck existed. No past, no present, no future. There were no alternatives; no afterlife, no other world, no parallel dimension.
Nothingness.
Then, Moren awoke with a near-gasp, realized she’d fallen unconscious. There was a blank stretch of time in her mind, a void she couldn’t penetrate no matter how much she tried. It was the only thing to remind her of those forgotten visions; a small instance of nothingness within her which showed her their fate.
If a goddess such as her could suffer an unintelligible gap in her memory, then Death would come for them all one day. She didn’t even have to do anything about it; it would happen regardless. It was inevitable.
But then, what
was her purpose?
Moren drifted through their world which was wrought with changes on every step. Her siblings were fast at work. Some enjoyed interacting with the mortals, showing their form and might as a matter of course. Others were more mindful, acting with care and forethought. Still others were off doing their own thing, bending existence to their will.
All throughout, Moren traveled, incorporeal and unseen to them all. She watched, she studied, and she sought.
What was it that she was looking for?
Even she wasn’t certain. Clues, perhaps. The one tower they had found had been dominated by Absence. Yet, it was that which had been lacking that led to the realization the gods themselves must have been created. So, there was or had been a Creator before them. There was meaning in what did not exist as much as there was in what did…Moren thought she was close to understanding, but couldn’t quite grasp it yet. Was it because Knowledge had been destroyed? Would gathering its lost pieces yield something of value? Would scouring this world they’d inherited for relics prove worthwhile? Moren determined she’d keep her senses sharp and keen just in case.
The Ideal of Death might be an interesting one to find, too. But then, Ideals were more easily destroyed than they, the Gods. Could she unearth anything from one? Well, if she came across one, she’d find out. However, she wasn’t hunting down any of them, unlike Saries. If she crossed paths with one, that was well. And if not – well, she had nothing but time until the End.
Overall, she was drawn to death. The tress burnt to a husk, the butchered animals, the hunted ur-humans. The trampled grass, the rotting fruit, the bacteria unable to survive. She could sense life in each of these things; a subtle energy, a brimming thing of beauty which was there one moment and gone the next. Death was nothing more and nothing less than the cessation of existence. It was most curious, how a bull running freely seemed to her senses to be so
full, yet as soon as it was torn apart, it was rendered to
nothing. A living creature became but a husk; a shell that was practically
an object. Something faint lingered in the meat, barely perceptible, but each consumed piece sent it unto nothingness.
Death.
Was this how it meant to be? She could leave it be as it was…but she didn’t want to.
Whether it was because she wished to analyze the transition between life and death, or because she yearned to play a role in the process, Moren decided to
do something.
Remembering how this reality appeared when she first came to be, Moren channeled memory, imagination, and godly power as she weaved a separate pocket dimension in it. The “Afterlife” as she dubbed it was a realm of rolling dark shores and plains, steady black mountains and flowing rivers, susurrating shadowy foliage, the night sky above, and an abyssal ocean far in the distance. Unlike their world, this dimension had a sense of completeness about it, even in this form; changes were possible, yes, but the ‘lack’ of what could be didn’t make what was any lesser. The Afterlife acted as a net, for it would catch those remnants of life before they fully disappeared, providing a temporary safe haven before they passed on. Ultimately, all would still dissipate into nothingness, but Moren was satisfied with making it a more gradual process.
Now, the net wasn’t all encompassing just yet – some life would still perish without any part of it crossing over, Moren knew.
So, she traveled once again, seeking life, the dying, and the dead.
In her explorations, she noticed a certain existence. A tree which was a central spot for pilgrimage for many beings. It seemed like a good hub for her to do what she wished, so she approached. She did not disturb anyone there, did not let a hint of her presence slip into the beings’ awareness.
For a time, she simply watched. And so, she noticed what the Hollow Tree was doing, which intrigued her. As she laid a palm on its bark, she let it sense her. She proposed an exchange, which the tree pondered for some time. In the end, it accepted.
Through the tree, Moren extended her godly senses. She sent a message through its roots, its leaves, the spores flying in the wind, through the spreading mycelium networks underground, through the roots and seeds of other plants. She reached out to all life without them ever knowing. In each living being, she imbued a tiny hint they could recognize only on the brink of death. Their essence would be called to the Afterlife, and if they accepted, the remnants of their energy – a core one could term a soul or a spirit or aspect or whatever other term – would gather, and be able to traverse to her realm of the dead. Any being could choose not to cross over, in which case, they would simply cease to be there and then.
When that was done, Moren gave a gift to the Hollow Tree in return. It would be able to sense those beings whose lifespans were near their end as far as its roots extended, and it could call them to it. It would give them peace in their final days, and in exchange, it could have a tiny bit of their vitality – a small part that wouldn’t affect the essence Moren collected, but which would benefit the tree itself.
Actions:- Creates the Afterlife: It’s a separate dimension which can be accessed by the dead, the dying, and can be freely entered and exited by Moren. For other gods and mortals, the means of access are not yet discovered, though it won’t be too hard for a god.
- The Gift of Guidance: All living beings will be able to sense the Afterlife when they’re on the brink of death/dead – before their essence dissipates, they can choose to travel to Moren’s domain or to disappear into nothingness right away.
- Blessed the Hollow Tree: the tree can sense through its roots the beings who are near the end of their lifespan in its ‘territory’, and can call them to it. It’s not a compelling call, so beings can choose to refuse it. Those who accept can die in peace (less fear and pain) in exchange for letting the tree have a bit of their vitality. This does not disturb the passage of the soul/spirit/essence into the Afterlife.
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