The tale of Creation
In the beginning, the universe was but an endless void, a sea of darkness untouched by light or form. Through this vast emptiness, a lone celestial crossed the infinite expanse. His name was Laris, a being of unimaginable power and eternal solitude. For eons, he wandered alone, until from the deepest well of his essence, he birthed Anarith—the World Stone. Anarith was more than just a creation; it was a living testament to Laris' being, crafted from the purest fragments of his soul. In essence, Anarith and Laris were one, entwined by fate and spirit, a union of creation and creator.With time, as the ages unfolded, Laris sought to share his existence with others, and so he created his firstborn, the Celestials: Luime, Eilue, Vorion, and Cathria. Together, they inhabited Anarith, the beating heart of everything. For an age uncountable, they lived in harmony, their bonds unbroken, their spirits at peace.
But the calm of this divine family was not to last. Among them, Vorion, the youngest of the siblings, was restless. His heart, filled with longing and ambition, began to stir with dark desires. At first, his actions were subtle, like a slow, unnoticed poison, seeping into the very essence of Anarith itself. He yearned for more power, more strength, for himself alone. With every breath he took, he drew from the World Stone, tainting it with his insatiable hunger. He grew intoxicated by the power coursing through him, a power that was born from the very essence of his father, Laris. He was blind to the damage he wrought, blind to the very foundation of their world withering beneath his touch. His insatiable lust for strength consumed him, a fire that could not be quenched. Anarith, their sacred home, began to wither, its vibrant life fading beneath the weight of his greed.
The siblings, seeing the destruction that Vorion caused, begged him to cease. But their voices fell on deaf ears. One by one, they were struck down, for Vorion had become more powerful than any of them, his strength fueled by the very essence of their father. His desires were endless, and with each passing moment, the world they knew crumbled further into ruin...
Anarith's fall could not be avoided. The once-beautiful world now lay shattered, its heart broken, its soul poisoned. And so, the first war was born—a war not full of armies, but of wills, of a celestial family torn apart by greed, lust, and betrayal. The battle for the very soul of Anarith had begun, and with it, the echoes of a tragedy that would shape the fate of all worlds yet to come...
The War and Void
Luime, Eilue, and Cathria—three who once shared a bond stronger than blood—stood together in the face of an impossible truth. They could no longer stand by and watch as their world, Anarith, withered beneath the cruel hands of Vorion. The pain he caused their home, the very land they had nurtured together, was too much to bear. And so, the time had come, the time when they could no longer remain divided, when they could no longer fight alone. The three of them, united in sorrow and defiance, knew they had but one choice left: to face him together, for none of them alone could match his strength.It was a war like no other, one that tore at the very fabric of their family. Ages passed, and the battlefield became a place of sorrow, where the once radiant home of the Celestials now lay in ruins, stained with the blood of kin and the broken dreams of unity. The war was long and brutal, and each clash sent ripples through the heart of Anarith, its soul flickering with each blow.
But in the end, it was not brute force that would defeat Vorion. It was unity—something he had forsaken long ago. Together, the three siblings bound Vorion with chains forged not from metal, but from the very essence of their father, Laris. They forged these chains from the essence of creation itself, powerful enough to restrain even the might of Vorion, whose once unstoppable strength now faltered beneath the weight of their resolve.
They cast him into a prison, a dark and hollow place of their own making, a tomb where time would hold no sway, a place where Vorion could do nothing but fade into oblivion. And as the chains tightened and the prison formed around him, Luime, Eilue, and Cathria stood before him, their eyes filled with sorrow for what they had done, but knowing there was no other choice.
And so, as the final words echoed through the emptiness, they cast his name aside, for it was no longer the name of a brother, but of a curse. "You wanted to be the master of everything, but you will become the king of nothing!" Luime's voice rang out, resolute and firm, the sorrow of a thousand lifetimes woven into each word. "Let the emptiness be your name! From now on, you are Void!"
And in that moment, Vorion—once a Celestial, once a brother—was no more. The last breath of his essence was swallowed by the void, and so he became the king of his prison... Void. A name that would haunt the ages, a name that would remind all of the cost of ambition unchecked, the price of family torn asunder.
Death of Anarith
Vorion, now forsaken and bound, his name twisted into Void, sat in his prison throne, the chains of his own downfall heavy upon his form. He waited, silent and unmoving, as the weight of his sins pressed upon the shattered world he had once sought to rule. Anarith, the World Stone, the very heart of their existence, was already withering under the corruption of his touch. The once-vibrant life that pulsed through the time now darkened, slowly fading like the last whispers of a dying star. Anarith's breath faltered, and in its final moments, it was consumed by the very poison that Vorion had unleashed.The silence of death hung over the place, as still as the grave. But from that silence, a great roar arose—a thunderous explosion, shattering the heart of Anarith into a thousand pieces, scattering the fragments across the endless void. The force of the blast was both the end and the birth of something new. Laris’s essence, entwined with the remnants of Anarith, poured into the shattered world, weaving together the fabric of the universe as we now know it.
And yet, from this moment of creation came destruction—the lives of three primordial celestials were lost in the cataclysm, their sacrifice the price for the dawn of this new age. Their essence, too, scattered like the fragments of Anarith, now part of the cosmic cycle. In the midst of this chaos, Void remained untouched, protected by the very prison that bound him. And as the universe was reborn from the ashes of the old, Vorion, now lost to his own madness, could do nothing but laugh. His dark, hollow laugh echoed through the void, for he knew the universe would never again be the same. His hunger for power, though now gone, had set in motion the birth of an entirely new world—one where all things would be forever altered. Thus, in the end, there was the beginning. And in the beginning, there was only his prison in the void.
The three realms of death
Grief-stricken by the loss of his three beloved offspring, Laris, with the weight of a father's sorrow, reached into the depths of his boundless power and sought to restore them. His will was unyielding, and so, with immense sacrifice, he drew them back from the cold embrace of oblivion. Yet, as he did so, his foresight whispered a grim truth—that this cycle of loss and death would now repeat on forever. To spare his children from such a fate again, he took a step that would alter the fate of the cosmos. In an act of both love and foresight, Laris, mingling his essence with that of Cathria, Eilue, and Luime, forged three eternal realms, hidden from the prying eyes of both mortal and divine. These realms, born of divine blood and cosmic power, would serve as sanctuaries for his children, shielded forever from the chaos of the world above and the wrath of Void below. These became the sacred Realms of Death.Though they regained their consciousness, the three siblings were no longer bound to their forms. The once-vibrant beings were now ethereal, spirits forever entwined with their new domains. They became the rulers of these realms, unseen by all but themselves, and untouched by the world they once knew. Forever bound to the ether, hidden from the reach of the Void.
The realms were not nameless, for their divine origins were marked by the ancient tongues of the cosmos. And so, they were called:
Luimen, the Realm of Light and Transcendence
Nav, the Realm of Darkness and Eternal Rest
The Realm of Judgment, where the fates of souls are decided
And so it was that the siblings took their rightful thrones, becoming the Lords of Death. Each reigning over their domain, their spirits ever-watchful, their power a force of balance in the eternal cycle. Bound to the realms they had crafted, they ensured that no mortal nor celestial could ever disturb the peace of their domains, keeping them hidden from the destructive reach of the Void and guarding their legacies forevermore.
The world of living
When Anarith, the great World Stone, shattered in a cataclysmic explosion, its vast fragments, both small and large, scattered through the boundless expanse of the cosmos. The explosion of Anarith's essence, infused with Laris's divine power, birthed the universe as we know it today. The very fabric of existence was shaped by the fragments of the fallen world and the lingering essence of a god. The larger remnants of Anarith became the foundations of the planets, their massive cores anchoring the new celestial bodies. Each fragment, differing in size and energy, carried varying amounts of Laris's essence, infusing some worlds with more of his power than others. It is this divine infusion that accounts for the presence of Archana on some planets—places rich with magical energy—while others are devoid of it, and still others only possess it in its faintest, most dormant form.Smaller fragments, scattered and drifting in the cosmos, became arcane celestial bodies. Many of these fragments eventually crashed onto the newly forming planets, their otherworldly power seeping into the soil of their new homes. Over time, these ancient remnants gave birth to artifacts of immense magical potential, relics crafted from the very essence of Anarith and Laris, or even created life...
As the destruction of Anarith echoed through the realms, it unleashed violent archane storms, pulses of raw magical energy that rippled through the universe. These storms, remnants of the mighty World Stone, birthed stunning nebulae and wondrous phenomena, the swirling remnants of Anarith's fall. These cosmic occurrences continue to captivate the curious, marking the death of one world and the birth of another—a universe teeming with magic, power, and the endless cycle of creation and destruction.
The tale of Anarith’s shattering is not merely the birth of worlds, but a reminder of the fragility of all things, even that which is forged from the very essence of the cosmos. We see in the fragments of Anarith not just the beginnings of our universe, but the consequences of unchecked ambition and desire. The destruction, the birth, the storm of Archana—it all echoes the eternal struggle for balance, a battle that we must never forget. For in the void, where all things begin and end, only those who understand the cost of power can hope to wield it wisely.
Hey, lovely article! Great writing. I especially love that you attribute 'military conflict' into more abstract themes like: *'faltered beneath the weight of their resolve'.* I enjoyed reading about a 'war' that way, it feels very abstract, but also divine in a way. Which, I think is very fitting in this case. I am also very curious, based on this creation myth, are some of the themes of your worldbuilding 'fragility and greed. And a constant cycle of creation and destruction'? I am curious to know if the themes of your creation myth are also the basis of your entire world.
Hi, you make me really happy for showing the interest and I am glad you like the article. This form of "how my universe was created" actually took almost 3 years for me to figure out. "The Creation" is basically what happened before BIG BANG and the destruction of Anarith is the big bang itself. To answer regarding to themes of world, fragility and greed are not the core pillars but greed is something very close to one of my primordials Vorion (imprisoned void) https://www.worldanvil.com/w/world-of-thalas-jaroslavhrabkovsky/a/vorion-person Vorion is the prime evil that exist in universe and his fingers of greed stretch to all corners of that universe in many different forms. For example Cataclysm is also part of his doing as the Chaos itself is descendant from Vorion https://www.worldanvil.com/w/world-of-thalas-jaroslavhrabkovsky/a/cataclysm-myth And yes. The Creation myth is the main pillar for my world but not in way that the worlds are constantly created and destroyed but the foreshadowing for ending do exist in Thalas. It is told that Vorion will break his prison (Void) and he will claim whole universe for himself. And the last one :D "And a constant cycle of creation and destruction'?" I am not focusing to this part... yet, but the cycle of creation and destruction is something I would like to touch in form of poems. Only related articles to this topic on my page (for now) are 2 gods Shonnos and Lithuos and the article about the spirits of Thalas https://www.worldanvil.com/w/world-of-thalas-jaroslavhrabkovsky/a/shonnos-person https://www.worldanvil.com/w/world-of-thalas-jaroslavhrabkovsky/a/lithuos-person https://www.worldanvil.com/w/world-of-thalas-jaroslavhrabkovsky/a/thall-species