The Creation of Frea'thal

Long ago, in the time before time, the Gods were wild. Creatures of habit and instinct, great and terrible in equal regard. They terrorized the mortals they had created at one time, and other times they uplifted individuals to strike out against great evils. Mortals cowered before and praised them in equal measure. All was chaos as each god rose to rule their own nations, and they warred with one another. In those days, the divine walked among the people, and the people did bow in reverence lest they be slain.

So, it was for many years, until a cold wind began to blow. From the East it rolled, filling all within the nations of the gods with discontent and worry. A great war erupted, many small conflicts spilling over into a calamitous war the likes of which the world had never known nor has known since. Lands fell and were raised, the oceans boiled under the divine might of warring gods. Underneath burning skies mortal armies met in battle, steel and arrow sowing the fields in blood. The world heaved, teetering on the edge of demise.

Then, in the world's darkest hour, when all seemed irreversibly lost, that which the cold wind heralded arrived.

Clad in silver armor and bearing a great spear, a woman appeared from the East. She first arrived in a small mountainside town, and there she spoke to the populace of great and wondrous things. Of a balance of light and shadow, of a grandness to light up the grey skies, of a heavenly dance above the cloud layer. The people of the time had never experienced such a wonder, they lived in the oppressive Age of Gods, where all nature bent to their capricious whims, and so they bade her to speak and speak she did. Telling her tales as she walked ever westward.

Soon she began to amass followers, pilgrims, and worshipers. She spoke of peace and prosperity, concepts that were long forgotten in the lands of the Gods, and those eager for a better life than living in fear every day at the unpredictable beings that ruled them and those weary of war joined the throng. So, it was that the Gods found her, and one god challenged this strange woman to battle.

When her followers took up arms, the woman merely bade them to sit, to do nothing but observe carefully to better speak of what they saw. She met the god and his army on the field alone, in her silver armor and bearing her great spear. Those who witnessed the battle spoke in hushed whispers across the lands, of power no mortal should possess, of a god's head left upon a pike, and of a field sown with the blood of the unworthy.

News spread like a wildfire, and as those who heard it came together, the woman continued her journey west. All the Gods who dared to stand in her path were slain, or driven to flee the fields of battle. All the mortals that stood against her were unworthy of the her mercy and perished. Some survived by forsaking allegiance to their gods and joining the cause of the mysterious figure. They followed her for a time, but all would eventually leave the her side, to spread Her word. Even though very few understood the significance of the three words spoken, they repeated it with all their hearts. It was not until the stranger reached the western edge of the land that they became true.

You, child, have probably imagined all of this occurring with a night and day, have you not? Battles taking place atop sun-baked fields, and the story of this mysterious silver clad woman told beneath brilliant stars. Then you have been mistaken. For until she reached her destination, the sky was as it had always been: A gray expanse, dark and cold, with only clouds and rain to give it flavor. But when the silver clad woman arrived, and raised her spear to the sky, those three simple words became as law.

The Day Comes.

All became fire and blinding light, the grayness of the heavens was shattered and forever banished as something began to ascend over the Eastern edge of the lands. Colors, heat, and endless majesty rose beyond the mountains where the silver clad woman had come. For she was but a herald of a grander change to come. Having journeyed across the land to prepare all that would listen for this second arrival. A woman, clad in the brightest gold and bearing a bronze war hammer the size of a stallion, she set foot upon the land where her sister had arrived. And thus, the great siblings found us.

Mortals and gods alike raced across the land, to greet the new come Sun or to flee from her radiance. Some even dared to raise up arms against her majesty, to foolishly war for the heaven's coming. Those who had seen the Westward Moon, who had greeted the Risen Sun, revolted against their masters and shook off their shackles. Mortals and gods alike rallied to the side of the Celestial Siblings, and beneath their banners they tamed the world. The Risen Sun marched west, the Westward Moon strode east. Where they met, and blessed the world with the first Eclipse, the capital of our great land was founded.

And so, it has been, for many years. The Risen Sun and Westward Moon created a heavenly city, within which the gods dwell and tend to the world, from atop the great mountain Oris. Above them all sits the Solar and Lunar Thrones, and for a while they sat empty. For the Celestial Siblings decreed, no more would mortals be left to fend for themselves. And so, they descended from the heavens, leaving the Silver Spear Octanis and the Bronze Hammer Polaris upon their thrones as they joined the mortals. For many years they lived among us, ruling our united nation through centuries of peace, shepherding us through conflict and strife.

It finally came to pass that they returned to their thrones among the gods atop mount Oris. In their wake, they left their only daughter, a goddess in her own right, to rule and guide us as they once had. The First Pontifex of our Great Nation. Under her divine wisdom we have flourished. In return for all they have done, we offered them prayer and sacrifice, so they may know our eternal gratitude. So, it was, and so it shall forever be.