The Evermore Compendium

In the beginning, there was nothingness–a darkness that stretched on to infinity. A light came to being in this darkness, from whence no living thing can tell. This light spoke words, which it used to create Vazra: the realm of life and mortality; once done, it vanished, never to be seen again.

Two gifts it gave unto the land: a man, and a woman, who were named Ainum and Varraxa in the light’s primordial tongue. They were the Tzaurai: Gods as mother and father–Tuvarraez and Pavarraez. Ainum was a strong brute, a man of stone and iron and blood. Varraxa was a fair creature of strength and sweetness–the hardened will of a mother. Their world in which they were born was barren, save for the animals on its plains and in its great mountains–in the skies and the oceans.

From their love came four children, who they named Aiaz, Azni, Nevetaz, and Tuni. The first three ventured into Vazra and reaped its magical lifeblood, returning to their parents with unique gifts of power. Aiaz became the Reverie, with the ability to peer forward into time. He grew solemn and brooding, but would never speak of what he glimpsed in his mind’s eye. Azni returned as the Infernum, with the power to command nature’s flame. He could attach his will to an open fire, and make it move howsoever he wished. Nevetaz returned as Mortum, with the dominion over death itself. Animals which had died, he could resurrect as many times as he saw fit. All boys were achievements in the eye of Ainum, save the last, who had not gone with his brothers. Tuni retained no power, and resisted the attainment of one. Ainum, with infinite displeasure, so instructed him to venture forth and do as his brothers had done. He did, and was gone ten days and nights.

At his return, Ainum became wroth at the sight of his youngest son–unchanged, barring his haggardness and weary mind. So the Father of the World took his son and tore him apart with his hands–separating him into pieces. There would be a purpose for him–in the creation of life. With each part, he formed the intelligent mortal races: Humans, Urrvara, and Zakma Tagu. He decreed that the gifts his sons procured from the flesh and life of Vazra would be passed unto these mortal races, but only in sparsity–as divine gifts to a chosen few. He and his remaining sons would be entertained by the result.

To oversee these gifted few, Ainum made the Varratu, or Beholden in the Common Tongue of Men. They were specters of power, allowed to pass between Aikakre–the palace of the sky–and Vazra. To do so, they would form for themselves each an Urrai–a body which the mortal eye could observe–and walk among the Children of Tuni.

Among the Varratu, there was Zayja, Rana, Vetne, Ainau, Urrumai, and Audi. Zayja, who took the form of an armored shieldmaiden with hair long and flaxen as a wheatfield, was the favorite of Ainum’s Triad sons–never diabolical or insubordinate, and bound to their will. Rana, who appeared to the world as a woman one with the woods and rivers–clad in greens and poplar leaves–was the fairest among the Varratu. Vetne, the most grim, was a man gaunt and pallid, dressed in shadow. His cruelty displeased even Ainum. Ainau was tall and golden–a pillar of strength and honor. Urrumai, the Oaf, was round and bearded, and toyed with those who resisted his temperament. Lastly, there was Audi, who was dressed in silver. She took most to the Urrvara, who claim pure blood and higher intelligence. All six were tied to the Triad by name, fettered in subservience to the gifted sons and their father.

It was this way until Varraxa heard of her husband’s action. She looked upon the realm of Vazra, in which dwelt the beings made using the extremities of her youngest son, and hated them–wishing death upon them all. Ainum attempted to resist her, and quarreled heatedly with the woman who had once loved him, failing to convince her of the sanity in his ideals. She, using what power she could muster, threw him down to Earth, and raised a mountain around him so that he could not free himself and return. The Triad, now more immortal than their mother, their bodies turned to wreaths of colored flame without form, looked upon her as she wept. In concert, they said: “Thy seed grows potent; hence, we bid thee return our father, lest our hand be forced to desperate action.” Varraxa could not hold her gaze upon them, or risk blindness under their unnatural brightness. She answered that she could not, for it would sully her sanctity as mother of four dead sons. “We are all the more alive,” they answered, and turned her to ash which began a long and endless drift through the void beyond the Sky.