...his is an alternative account of creation. One which I, Atticus, happily endorse.

For though I may be cursed with knowledge, I am not infallible.

Gaia is one of the seven children of the Trinity. She is known to be female most of the time whenever she chooses to take form.

This took place during the 'war of creation', when the seven gods created life from the flesh of the Universe to fight and compete to settle arguments, for glory and for their amusement. To play and enact their will without directly moving lest they umake the order already made.

Gaia quickly grew tired of these games and created the first creatures made with love and mourned when her siblings' creations killed them. Her grief was such that she spent millennia screaming her pain to the Universe for she had used a piece of herself in their creation, giving them spirit as she herself if of spirit.

The Trinity, tired of the cruel games of its children disciplined them, cursing them to live through mortal lifetimes so as to learn the lessons of the created. Each of the Seven should live a total of a thousand lifetimes as one of the mortal creatures they made, so they may know the toil of the created.

Thus, each of the Seven lived and died as a fish, as a monkey, as a kraken, as an elf, as a dragon, as a leviathan, as a human and many other creatures, dying to be reborn again in a new form. Each time not remembering their previous lives until they had each lived a thousand lives.

Having learnt the wisdom that can only be known through the woe and the straggles of the flesh they are what we know now as the Great Seven. For they had lived and died a thousand times before ascending to their rightful places above creation.

After, they made the lives of their creatures easier and each put a part of themselves into their creations.Thus, all life in the mortal realm became flesh of the Universe and spirit of the Seven. The Trinity saw that it was good and decreed that all the spirits birthed of the Seven should spend at least 10 lives in mortal flesh so they too could learn the lessons of life and death.

The Seven had many such children. All of Spirit, never having had known the toil of the flesh until then.

Gaia, with the help of the Universe and the blessing of the Trinity. Created seven worlds each from parts of herself. Some say with the help of the her six siblings while some claim alone, no one can be sure.

What is known is that she forever diminishing herself to only ever be seven worlds when in the mortal realm. And the weakest of the seven if ever a confrontation occurred in the spirit realm.

The first world was named after her mortal name, Gaia. All seven worlds revolve around Rigel, the grear blue star that watches over them. Majestic and powerful Rigel, the protector of the seven worlds. With its radiance and energy, keeping out the six siblings of Gaia and their influence from the star system.

Ever watchful and with the blessing of the Universe, evolving.

Except from: The Book Of Tears. Chapter author unknown.

* * *

Ancient of Days

"How did you get here old man?" A voice asks from the shadows.

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Though all he sees is an old tired barefooted human he is cautious. Good, he isn't stupid, and he took his time approaching me. Making sure I was alonebefore revealing himself.

"I've been looking for you actually. You and your sister both," I say look straight him through all his cloaking and skills.

He steps off the tree branch and lands a few feet away, still keeping his distance but his gaze is as sharp as the spear pointed at me.

"And how pray tell did you find me?" He asks, twirling his spear around in one hand,constantly moving about.

I snort dispute myself. "The day I am unable to find my own descendants will be a great day indeed for I will have gone senile," I say, sitting down on a soggy branch.

He stays silent for a moment. Looking me over with tilted head.

"How did you get here old man?" He asks seriously. Moving back towards the shadows. Ready to flee at any moment.

He has exceptional survival instincts.

"I walked," I say, looking at him directly for the first time.

He is weary, very weary and wild. He doesn't understand why he doesn't fit in, he doesn't know what he is.

Such struggle and pain. His mother not accepted among the elves as a half breed. Shamed and banished.

Not accepted among the humans. His mother and sister raped and sold into slavery for their beauty and potential power.

Him hunted down and imprisoned. Chained and put into a ship to distant shores for inter-breeding with other half breed elves.

Saved from that fate by a shipwreck that left him here to find these Outcast Islands and make a home among the forest creatures.

He is too curious still, but fearful of humans. Oh how my children have suffered.

"No one walks here old man. We are on an isle, my island. Try again," he says moving further away. I nod in approval, well honed survival instincts.

"I'm here to take you away Israel. We are to prepare for a calamity you and I."

"Who are you old man?" He asks finally, after a short pause.

I smile. "I am your great grandfather. You can call me 'Old man'."

"Old man, I am at least 60 years old by my estimate. My mother was over a hundred when she had my sister and I. Her mother was over 300 when she had her. How can you, a human, even in that ancient looking body, be over 400 years old?"

I watch him get ready to bolt. I snort and move.

It isn't a particularly malignant move.

Nor is it a fast move or a surprising move.

What does surprise him though, beyond me knowing his name, beyond me being here, beyond me knowing of his sister. Beyond even the fact that through that single move I span the distance between us and gently place a hand on his shoulder.

What truly surprises him is the empathy I share with him. The true and full understanding of all his suffering, his anger, his deep seething hate for the elves and especially the humans.

He suddenly knows I know him, truly know him utterly, and I love him despite who or what he is. Despite his perceived faults or the things they made him do, the things they did to him.

Israel breaks down and cries. Deep, soul deep pain that has been bottled for years is brought to the surface. He wails and falls on his knees. I hold him and radiate my love and acceptance. Tears on my own face as I empathically share in all his sufferings.

How could I not cry after 'living' his life? After seeing his suffering from his perspective. It's refreshing in a way as well, to be reminded of the human suffering I sometimes overlook because of my knowledge of a greater suffering than any living creature on Gaia has endured.

The sufferings I have become numb to because of my knowledge of the bigger picture, of divine plots. Too long I have been desensitized. A combination of ennui, that immortal curse, weariness and my arrogance of thinking myself beyond mundane concerns. I've forgotten my humanity but this final quest is bringing me into the world again. Reminding me I'm alive.

"Come. Let's find your mother and sister." I say after he has spent himself crying in shame, in relief, in pain, and mainly in release. Unclenching some of that hate that has helped sustain him so long he looks up at me with hopeful desolation.

"They live still?" He asks, wiping his face.

"Yes they live still. But they have suffered much, you may not recognise what they have been turned into."

He nods stubbornly, "I will always recognise Saea. My soul yearns for hers."

"And hers yours." I respond.

He is a wild boy. In nothing but a loincloth and red paint. What a pair we make, the dirty old man and the wild half elfen savage.

"We will need to make a stop first. No need to alarm the denizens of those lands too much. Let's walk."

I grab his hand and walk, and we cover miles in a step.