When the world was young, the Ancients roamed the land. Glistening cities towered high above the waves, mountains which overlooked the world. Great metal creatures flew high above the clouds and the sun itself was tamed as if it were a mere beast of burden. In these times, the Gods walked among these most archaic of peoples. The heavens and the earth were one. The line between divine and mundane was only a suggestion.
The Ancients, however, were divided, as were the gods. With their great powers, the Ancients warred against each other. The Gods, in their youth, knew no conflict. They attempted to reason with the Ancients. Pleading with their old friends to come together, to bring peace back to the world, yet to no avail. The Ancients, consumed with their own squabbles turned the seas against each other. Then the mountains. Then the sun itself, yet they were not satisfied. They turned to the Twins, Ghenswôagh and Zóac, for aid. To Ghenswôagh, they promised an end to war and a return to normalcy if she were to give them the power to rewrite nature. To Zóac, they promised to dedicate a feast in her honor if she were to assist them in a finishing blow against their foe. Ghenswôagh blessed their voices with songs pure enough to coax Existence itself to their whims. Zóac blessed their bodies with the ability to withstand divine energy, so that she may inhabit them and lead to victory.
In song and dance, the Ancients continued their rampage against each other. The once glistening cities that the gods played in crumbled away. The heavens twisted and contorted in agony as the ancient unleashed storm after storm. Lightning rained upon the earth for years. Even the Gods themselves grew strained, their divine essence used as weapons for further destruction. Fooled and ashamed, Zóac and Ghenswôagh tore heaven and earth asunder, so that no earthly creature could misuse their powers. The earth soon fell into complete chaos as the Gods abandoned the world to its own device. It was in this crucible which the forebeasts were born as the wild creatures of the land turned against the Ancients. With fang and claw, they lashed out at the beings who wrought destruction upon their home. They preyed upon the weakened Ancients, whittling down their numbers. The Ancients begged the Gods for aide, to smite the forebeasts, yet the eldest of the Gods, Mésēìzősa, refused to them. His heart ached as his former friends fought. His body, their battlefield, was bruised, battered, and scarred. He condemned them to their fate, not yet able to set a curse upon those he once sojourned with.
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The once numerous Ancients, now fought in their ruins as the Gods watched Existence itself spawned forth monstrous creatures. Eight-legged abominations with the intelligence of men crawled out of the swamps and deserts. Venom-laced fangs pierced through the armor of the Ancients. In horror, the Gods stripped these beasts of language, so that they may never use the songs of the Ancients. This, however, did not stop these creatures, who hunted the Ancients to the last man.
Thus, the Ancients were no more. In their haste to fight against each other, to surpass each other, they turned Existence against them. They turned the Gods against them, yet in the fires of war and chaos, the Gods matured. Coming together, they created the first men in their image, although far weaker than they. With the fires of the sun itself, Ghencerńi forged these first men out of copper. Once their forms had pleased her, she forged the first women of the remaining copper. Once their forms had pleased her, she mixed the few pieces of copper with lesser metals and created helpers for humanity, small furry creatures with the intellect of a child. She took them to Medhírè, who cooled their forms and breathed life into them. The first humans looked upon the faces of their Gods and bowed in reverence.