Janak/Harbard (JAH-nahk (/ˈdʒɑː.nɑːk/) HAR-bard-JAR-thod (/ˈhɑːr.bɑrd.ˈdʒɑːr.θɒd/))

The Unity of Opposites. To understand Janak-Harbard is to embrace paradox. His divine portfolios are not single concepts, but paired opposites that define the boundaries of mortal experience. He is not the god of just Truth, but of the Trickery required to reveal it. Not the god of just Order, but of the Chaos that prevents it from becoming tyranny. This is not a contradiction. The Janak aspect represents the ideal, the absolute, the foundational state of these concepts. The Harbard aspect represents the dynamic, often messy, process of interacting with them in a flawed world. He is the cosmic balance between what is and what could be, and his worship is the acknowledgment that both are necessary for a life truly lived.   Knowledge (Janak) / Divination (Harbard): Janak is all knowledge, the static totality of what is known. Harbard reveals knowledge through omens, riddles, and glimpses of the future, understanding that a truth discovered has more power than a truth given.   Order (Janak) / Chaos (Harbard): Janak represents the cosmic order, the fundamental laws of reality. Harbard is the chaotic force of change, innovation, and freedom that operates within and sometimes against that order, ensuring it does not become stagnant.   Truth (Janak) / Trickery (Harbard): This is the core of his being. Janak is Objective Truth. Harbard uses deception, illusion, and tricks to shatter lies and subjective realities, forcing mortals to confront the simpler, starker truth underneath.   Peace (Janak) / War (Harbard): Janak embodies the ideal state of perfect, harmonious peace. Harbard recognizes that conflict is often the catalyst for change and growth, and he is the strategist who guides warriors to fight for truthful causes.   Forgiveness (Janak) / Vengeance (Harbard): Janak represents the ultimate, divine forgiveness that comes with understanding. Harbard is the righteous anger that delivers brutal justice to those who violate fundamental truths, believing some acts must be answered for before forgiveness can be considered.   Life (Janak) / Destruction (Harbard): Janak is the spark of creation and the sanctity of life. Harbard is the necessary end, the force that clears away the old, rotten, and false to make way for new growth and truth.   Fate (Janak) / Choice (Harbard): Janak, as the creator, sees the grand tapestry of fate, the potential paths laid out. Harbard is the embodiment of free will, appearing at crossroads to guide mortals in making the choices that will weave their own thread into that tapestry.   Wayfarer (Travel) / Planes / Portals (Harbard's Primary Domains): These are the domains where his aspects merge into a single purpose. As the wanderer between worlds and the guide on the road, he is the active force moving through the creation (Janak) and experiencing its infinite possibilities (Harbard). This is how he performs his function.   Tempest (A Manifestation of His Nature): The storm is his symbol made literal: the chaotic, unpredictable, and destructive force (Harbard) that is governed by immutable natural laws (Janak). It is chaos within order.   Love/Lust (The Personal Aspect): This represents the full spectrum of passion and connection, from the highest, most selfless form of love (a universal truth) to the base, primal drive of lust (a chaotic, personal desire). He understands both as fundamental, powerful forces that drive mortal choices.

The Forked Path: An abstract sigil representing the cosmic truth of choice. It is the map of the crossroads, a reminder that from one truth, many paths emerge.

The Lantern-Bearer: A figurative image of Harbard as the personal guide. He is the light in the darkness, the ferryman who helps the lost navigate the waters of decision.

Walk Your Own Path. Your journey is yours alone. Trust your inner compass over any external map. Do not seek to command others, nor allow yourself to be commanded. True wisdom is found in the steps you choose to take yourself. Seek Truth in the Twist. Embrace chaos and change, for they are the whetstone that sharpens the mind. Look for the hidden lesson in every misfortune and the deeper truth in every riddle. Comfort is a cage; the unpredictable path is the road to enlightenment.   Stand Guard at the Crossroads. When you see others paralyzed by choice, offer guidance, not commands. Share your experience as a story, not a decree. Be the fleeting signpost that helps them find their own courage to choose.   Share Your Story, Honor Theirs. Wisdom is not owned; it is exchanged. Share your knowledge freely with those who seek it, and listen with an open heart to the tales of others. Every soul you meet holds a fragment of the truth you have not yet learned.   Mark the Milestones, Not the Map. Your skin is the parchment of your journey. Let your tattoos tell your story—the lessons learned, the truths uncovered, the moments you met the divine in a stranger's eyes. These are your only sacred texts.   Respect the Road-Worn. Honor those who have walked farther, not for their age, but for the wisdom etched in their steps and the stories inked on their skin. Their insights are lanterns in the fog.   The Road Provides for the Road. Show kindness to every wanderer, for any beggar might be the Wandering Recluse testing the heart of the world. A shared meal, a warning of danger ahead, a night by a safe fire—these are the only sacraments we practice.

For ages, war raged between Light and Darkness. Their conflict began to tear and misshape Mother, as each vied for her favor, pushing and pulling her, stretching and bending her form. Yet through it all, she remained neutral. Father, angered by how his sons abused their mother, took from the substance that had been misshapen by their war and crafted two great mirrors, naming one Law and the other Chaos. In doing so, he unintentionally trapped portions of the elements that had been too far from Mother, but his intent remained: to create the mirrors. In one, the glass reflected a clear, untainted image of what was. In the other, deepest black obsidian distorted the image, reflecting light away. He held the mirrors up to his sons and asked them to choose. Light, drawn to the clarity, chose the polished reflection of himself, while Darkness, enraptured by the smooth, black void, chose the obsidian.   So captivated were they by their own images that they ceased their destruction of Mother. Seizing the moment, Father took each mirror and pushed his sons as far as he could—away from Mother and away from each other.   “You cannot have one without the other,” Father said, his voice steady. “For in choosing, you do not find two truths, but the same truth reflected—either in the Light or in the Darkness, in Law or in Chaos, in Creation or in Destruction. To see the truth is to face it in its honesty. But know this: to choose one is to honor its essence, while to corrupt it is to deny its power, twisting it into something it was never meant to be.” But then, holding the mirrors aloft, he began to spin them faster and faster, until they became nothing but blurs of light and shadow. And as the spinning continued, a great hum filled the all the space that was once the void; a deep and unsettling resonance that grew stronger as the mirrors spun. Like a Whisper that filled what was once the void with a sound so slight yet trembling all things with anticipation.   But just as the storm of light and darkness reached its peak, Father stopped. The mirrors, now filled with the echoes of their spinning, shattered into countless shards, scattering across the multiverse like drops of rain in an endless storm.   Yet, Father did not let all the shards go. In his hand, he held onto the largest fragment, not a shard of the mirror, but something more; something forged in the turning, where both Law and Chaos, creation and destruction had intertwined. It was a piece of Mytr and Janak combined, something neither Light nor Darkness could comprehend. This was the essence of both Mytr & Janak, a piece that transcended the mirrors’ duality. It was Truth bound to Substance.   In silence, Father contemplated this essence, knowing it could not remain in his grasp alone. It was reality yet it was also more. He gazed into the depths of the shard he held and saw potential. And in that moment he called it the heart of Mytr and the eye of Janak.  With care, he placed the heart and the eye into the center of Mytr's womb, where it took root at the heart of the world, forming the foundation of Glosmordin. At it's edges flakes of the heart & eye raining in diverse & hidden places of the Material Realm   But unlike the rest of the shards, this one was still alive with the thrumming & the humming of the Whispers; a seed that carried the weight of both Truth and Substance. And from this seed, the world began to grow. Yet, its essence was not simple. It was not just magic, nor law, nor chaos alone. It was something deeper, something woven from the very act of creation. The Whispers that echoed from the heart & eye rippled outward, filling the void with the raw potential of life and magic, but chaotic and unpredictable, unshaped and untamed.   This was the first stirring of the Whispers—a power that could bring form to the formless, but only by those who could hear it, those who could name it. For in naming, the formless was given meaning, and in meaning, it became real. This was no simple act; the Whisper was wild and dangerous, an untamed current that could overwhelm the unworthy or lead even the greatest minds astray. But it was also inherent, a birthright of all creation, a voice waiting to be heard.   The Whisper was both truth and chaos, elusive and unpredictable. It was not magic itself, but the source from which all magic flowed, like the veins of Arcanessence that grew deep within Glosmordin’s heart, weaving through the earth like lifeblood. Arcanessence was the physical manifestation of this essence, but it was not the Whisper. Only those chosen by Mytr could truly grasp the Whisper in its raw form; for only she could understand the meanings of its rhythm. Only she could name things into being, who could speak True Words, binding creation itself through Her voice.   And so, Heart & the Eye, the piece he gifted back to Mytr, became Glosmordin. It was both the world itself and the essence of their union. The threads of creation that would later become the Whispers the few could speak, began here, carried by the Heart & the Eye and its reflections, waiting to be born in those who could harness them. But for now, the shard lay at the heart of Glosmordin, silent, yet full of promise—its truth hidden in the turning of the mirrors and the chaos that followed.   Mother stretched out her hands to the right and to the left, to the top and to the bottom, and opened her womb so that the life-giving water of her womb would flow into all place held each shards that had scattered firm where they landed. By Father’s work, all four of the Divine Gods were covered in the elements, and in this way, they took form, though they knew not their names. Mother called Father, Harbardjarthod, and Father called her Majka. Since they had given each other names, Mother desired the same for her sons.   Thus, she gave each of them helpers—loving attendants who would care for them and bestow upon them their true names. To Light, she gave Konasima, the Woman of Courage. Konasima believed Light to be blessed and named him Valinos. With Konasima came two others: Gyan, the Guardian of Knowledge, and Yemoja, the Mother of the Veil.   To Darkness, she gave Ch'ar-Mut, the Destroyer, and Ch'ar-Mut called Darkness Nekcrom. With Ch'ar-Mut came Kurxang, the Deceiver, and Zid-dem, Father of Pandemonium.