Name: Aura Class: Goddess Level: 2
Exp: 25/200
Today, I work.
Materia flows above my table, strands of gold curling and ribboning between my hands.
I know. Knowledge of the Work rises inside me, flowers blooming unbidden in the garden of my being. But more primal still, the joy of Creation, filling me, thrumming inside every inch of my being.
For there’s a great joy to be found in the creation of new things, and my Core sings with it. I put everything of me into my Works, but love is pivotal. More than anything else, mine is a labor of love, and it’s a spark of love I ignite to make my Works come to life. Love is returned by love, and the sight of the new things my hand shapes ignites in me a measure ten times greater than the love I put into them. Love that begets love. Creation that begets Creation.
I laugh. There could be anything more joyful? More beautiful?
My first work is my canvas, my island. The Sky is the greater space, different in its Otherness. This is mine. It is important, as it provides a framework inside of which my works will be able to blossom and develop.
New Area! The Golden Island of Al’Huota
The first stretch of land to ever grace the fathomless depths of the Unformed Sky. It is rough and primordial, an atoll brimming with potential, pregnant with Creation. It hosts the Workshop, the dwelling of the Golden Goddess.
New Area! The Workshop The first dwelling, witness to the acts of creation of the Golden Goddess and Her home. It lays at the center of the Golden Island of Al’Huota.
My first Works set the stage. They are the springboard, a sandbox and an emptiness upon which I can work. The next aim is to do the same.
Standing before my table, I extend my hand. I make my sign, the sign of the Golden Goddess. The sign of Aura. The sign of Creation.
The world thrums, rearranging itself to my wishes.
Obedient, the motes forget themselves, they rush to aggregate, to change and be anew. They leave their infinite potential behind in favor of a new form, higher and lower at the same time. Lower because their capacity to become wanes. Higher because in their new form, they can aspire to greater states of being.
Materia is born. Golden grains, brimming with potential, driven by will.
I lift my palm above my table, its surface flowing and remolding itself. The Materia gathers under my palm, strands of gold flowing together into a single, flowing mass. It crystallizes at a thought, the vitreous mass reflecting my features with one thousand faces.
I mold it, shave potentiality away, carve my desires, file and constrain.
A shape is born. A perfect one.
C’zaioth, the Circle of Light
A simple circle wrought out of Materia, the primordial matter. It brims with the power and desires of the Golden Goddess, as well as the focused light of the Endless Sky, among the first of Her Works.
The shape of the circle represents perfection through static harmony and Oneness.
C’zaioth is a Divine Artifact that offers protection against attacks of any kind and increases its owner powers of Creation.
Joy. The Work is complete.
I raise the circle in the air, and let it go. It floats, the last motes falling off it as it does. The will nestled inside it is a patient thing of contemplation. It broods over me for a moment, before acknowledging me as the center of its own being. Gently, it settles behind my back. There it remains, spinning slowly, gleaming silently.
I admire it. My Work. I clap my hands together. I am happy.
Joyous, I continue.
A new shape is molded into existence, the potential of its material constrained into a form. To this, I add a new thing: a function, a reason, and a desire.
Primordian Wheel A simple circle wrought out of Materia, the primordial matter. It desires to move.
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I form six Wheels before, laughing, letting them go. At once, they rush to quell their desire. They roll away, falling from my table, before speeding away, a couple escaping my Workshop to roam the island.
I let them. They’re toys, meant to wheel around and please the eyes. Acts of love, as all my Works are, yet minor, trifling.
All the same, I grow. Creation and innovation empower me.
New knowledge and power blossom inside, birthed from my gestating soul. My hands can hardly stand still.
But I won’t choose the road to my development. Not yet.
Walking to the island’s edge, I let myself over the edge. The Sky welcomes me with an embrace made of soft dawn light.
I don’t fall. Nothing falls here, in this endless expanse of unformed potential. We all stay. We all stay forever.
Hovering into nothing, I float. Golden clouds hued with light surround me, stretching as far as eye and mind can see, and then beyond. My head tilts back as I let my will connect with the Sky around me. It is Other, different from me; yet, it is me as well, my progenitor, what I was spawned from.
I know. I am its Will, its wanton soul. The Sky is eternally pregnant, soon to give birth. It desires it, painfully so, but the random shudders of birthing cannot satisfy it. It needs a hand to steer it, to pull the strings that will soon rush it into dance.
It will be mine. It must be mine. It is my reason and purpose. I shall, by labor and thought and steering hand, lead this rhythm, so that what would have been a pointless discharge of creative energies become an orderly parade of shapes and figures and life and revelry and love. What would have been trial and error and mediocre results will become project, unflinching, with none left behind.
My body bends backward as I shudder, the images too ecstatic.
Joy.
I let out a sigh, golden sparks coloring my breath.
The Sky is not yet Me. I am part of it, not otherwise. It must be otherwise. It starts with change. Change that will become possession, that will become sublimation.
The clouds ripple as I form my Sign, the light flickering. A new thing is born, emerging from the sea of potential.
Yanauva, the Watcher An eternal star, shaped by the Golden Goddess by the basic fundament of the Unformed Sky. It keeps unblinking watch, staring, but without moving, or acting.
Yanauva spins slowly on its own axis, a sphere of coruscant energies. Its mirror-like, polished surface catches the light as it does, reflexes chasing each other across its sheen.
It acquaints itself with its own existence, replying to my greeting with a nod. Then, it falls silent, watching, staring, peering.
Cooing it gently, I pluck it from its place of birth, coaxing it to its proper place. I set it there, in a place that qualifies, even in the pointless expanse of the Sky as “above”. To stand, and wait, and watch, and never act.
I draw back, replying to Yanauva’s unblinking stare with an affectionate of my own.
Joy. A new thing. For me but also for the Sky this time. A new thing that, in the endless expanse of uniform potential never existed before, someone who watches, someone who doesn’t act. And so, change, one to stake my claim upon this place.
The Sky registers; it trembles, becomes more of me, and I become less of of it.
[LEVEL UP!] [You reached Level 3!]
Ecstatic, I continue.
Xor’Ur’Thun, the Seeker An eternal star, shaped by the Golden Goddess by the basic fundament of the Unformed Sky. It seeks eternally.
Ghosts of shapes and rays of light chase each other across the star’s prismatic surface as it streaks across the Sky. It flares and runs, forever seeking, forever chasing, set, in the dimensionless tapestry of the Sky, in what is “far”, a distant streak of flame and passion.
Another tremble. Ribbons of potential curl from the clouds as they shudder. More of me here. More than it’s mine.
Xor’Ur’Thun, Yanauva, Al’Huota. One Who Seeks, One Who Watches, One Who Shelters. My first children, my first Works. The first principles I introduced to this eternal, unchanging Sky, upon which I’ll build my utopia.
I clasp my hand, reclining my cheek against it as I watch them. My Core brims with affection. My children. My beautiful, beautiful children. Even now I can feel them, I feel Al’Huota’s welcming will, Xor’Ur’Thun’s burning passion, Yanauva’s brooding contemplation. They’re me, I am them. We are Family.
Laughing, I return to my home.
My island stretches far, but not far enough. Sandy, golden rock challenges the Sky’s immensity, but it’s a paltry cry.
I work to make it less paltry.
By focusing my will, I coax the Materia at my feet to raise, then I give it shape, forming a new tool.
Primordian Monolith
A rough-hewn monolith wrought out of Materia, the primordial matter. It is imbued with an echo of the Golden Goddess’ call. The primordial particles gather thick around a Monolith, forming a humming cloud of fireflie-like light. The greater concentration allows one with the proper skills to shape the particles at a faster rate.
My island must grow. Such a thing is imperative. I cannot hope to build more of my works without the proper canvas. Its expansion is also my main method of growing myself, and that is only another reason to focus on it.
I keep building Monoliths. By the time I am finished, my island hums with clouds of dancing firelights.
Standing beside my latest work, I push my hand into the cloud humming around it. The motes form a cloud that seems wrought out an aurora of shades of gold. My fingers leave streaks of deeper golden as they pass through it, the trails shimmering gently.
Creation. From Nothing to Perfect Order. To me.
How utterly beautiful.
My fingers twitch. The motes aggregate around my skin, forming into a granulous mass of Materia. It falls from my hand in a soft trail, trailing off into the ground. Vibrations runs through my feet as my island grows larger.
I lower my hand. The choice grows nearer.
The work of creation has left me happy and excited. I sigh, working to retrieve my calm. The choice for my growth deserves nothing less but my ultimate attention.
Once more, I look at myself.
Name: Aura Class: Goddess Level: 3 Exp: 5/300 You have 2 unspent Skill Points!
The choice is complex, for there seems not to be an immediate utility for any of these paths. The new material, Prima, is not needed yet: Materia has still its uses for me, and there are still ideas for me to explore with it. The devouring through my works is pointless since there is nothing for me to devour yet. Power and Radiance meet the same objection. I am alone. There is no necessity for me to grow along those paths.
Yet.
I look toward the Sky. It is soon to give birth. It scares me, it does. I imagine dark shapes behind any cloud. Others, coming to ruin my works and me. To pollute the me with their dissonance.
I shiver, and it’s enough to make my choice.
- Radiance Eternal – Focuses on the influence your existence has over the sorrounding world, allowing higher control both over yourself and that which falls under your purview. Dominus: you can focus your Radiance into a hammer to break lesser beings. Mortal beings you focus your will on will find their capacity for resistance crumble away instantly. - Sun Allmighty – Grows the power of your physical form, granting access to divine armaments and powers. The Glare of the Sun: Infuses your form with the Divine Light of the Endless Sky, increasing your physical attributes and unlocking new battle skills.