In the Timeless Void—a gulf of absolute, echoing stillness before existence—a single, brilliant spark ignited. It was Auvinestia, the very concept of beginning, her form coalescing from pure, unbridled light. With a seismic burst of energy, she threw herself into the darkness, her presence instantly setting the rules of reality. She did not create the cosmos; she sang it into being, her voice weaving stardust into colossal, spinning galaxies and her breath igniting celestial flames to birth the first generation of stars.
Yet, Auvinestia's symphony echoed only to herself. A profound, cold loneliness settled at the core of her blazing essence. She reached into the infinity around her, not for more starlight, but for contrast. She drew forth the absence of her own light—the ancient, potent shadow of the Void—and exhaled life into the darkness.
From this pure negation arose Eruvannos, the God of Darkness and Void. His essence was the quiet, necessary counterpoint to her flash, a figure sculpted from the deepest midnight. Though twin opposites—light and the absence of light—they were bound by the single act of their genesis.
With Eruvannos by her side, the universe truly began. Auvinestia's light filled the canvas, but it was Eruvannos's darkness that gave it depth and meaning. Together, they did not paint the universe—they gave it dimension. Stars blazed with a brilliance only the Void could highlight, and worlds blossomed, pregnant with potential.
The newly formed cosmos rang with the power of their joint creation. To shepherd the burgeoning realities and manage the fundamental forces they had awakened, Auvinestia and Eruvannos decided to weave a second generation of divine beings from the fabric of their newly established laws.
Auvinestia, focusing her radiant energy, drew forth the elements of structure and life, birthing Terron (Earth), Marinna (Sea and Water), Aerius (Sky), and Pyros (Fire). Eruvannos, using his mastery over the frame of reality, sculpted the abstract concepts: Chronos (Time), Kosma (Space), the twin deities Selene (Night and Moon) and Helios (Day and Sun), and Mortus (Decay and Ending). Together, they infused the wild, vibrant worlds with Sylvanios (Nature), and they wove the perfect tension of their joint creation into Astraea (Harmony).
With their work nearing its first zenith, Auvinestia yearned for a binding force beyond structure and time. From the core of her blazing essence and Eruvannos's necessary shadow, they wove the final, most precious of their second generation: Hayamaya, the Goddess of Love, Attraction, and Divine Bonding. Her essence was the promise that light and void could forever coexist.
These twelve Core Deities, known collectively as The Genesis, became the architects of the mortal realms.
Hayamaya's influence instantly multiplied creation. From her deep, passionate connection with her siblings—the Core Deities—a third generation of complex, specialized gods was born, embodying the subtle interactions of the cosmos. From her bond with Chronos and Astraea came the triple goddesses, the Urthayans (Fate); with Terron and Sylvanios came Lupitama (Agriculture); and from her siblings' elemental forces sprang Vulcanus (Forge), Tempestas (Storms), Kinetos (Motion), Duskara (Twilight), Resura (Rebirth), Biskalva (War), Fikrisha (Knowledge), Seniqan (Technology), and all the others who ruled over the intricate tapestry of mortal life.
Auvinestia looked upon the mortal worlds, her light reflecting off the nascent life. The worlds were now populated by numerous fledgling races: the thoughtful, land-tilling Humans; the pointed-ear, elegant Elves; the deep-dwelling, stone-mastering Dwarves; the swift, animal-kin Beastmen; the graceful, finned Mers who claimed the oceans; and the high-flying, winged Celestials who claimed the skies.
A joyful impulse stirred within the Goddess of Creation. She sought to crown her work with a promise of perpetual harmony. From the superheated hearts of the brightest stars, she carefully drew twelve fragments of her own celestial energy. She forged them not into weapons, but into twelve shards of pulsing, raw creation—the Astari. Each fragment was charged with a unique kind of magic, ready to be a beacon of hope.
With the aid of the entire newly established pantheon, Auvinestia lowered the Astari to the world, gifting them to twelve mortal clans. This act was her ultimate trust. The mortals, overwhelmed, did not merely thank her; they prostrated themselves, their awe and praise rising to the heavens in a radiant, endless prayer that fixed itself solely upon the Goddess of Creation.
The immense expenditure of energy required to forge and gift the Astari, combined with the profound adoration of the mortals, drew Auvinestia into a deep, necessary slumber. Her blinding light dimmed, wrapped in cosmic fatigue, a celestial consciousness resting after its grand labor.
Eruvannos watched. He stood on the edge of a newly spun nebula, his form cloaked in shadow, and he listened to the mortal prayers. Auvinestia was an idol, her name a fervent whisper in every corner of the light. He, the architect who gave the light its frame, was the silent, unacknowledged space between the stars.
The profound silence left by his sister's slumber was the opportunity Eruvannos had been waiting for. With Auvinestia's vigilant light temporarily extinguished, the Void could act without immediate opposition.
Jealousy, cold and sharp as a shard of ice, pierced the core of the God of Darkness. It twisted his admiration into a bitter, resentful knot. He was the forgotten father, the shadow whose contribution was consumed by his sister's blinding radiance.
The jealousy festered, curdling into a dark, pure hatred. Eruvannos turned his back on the new worlds. From the deepest, most corrupted well of his being, he did not forge a gift—he sculpted a curse. It was the Lymoros, a gem of unadulterated malice, pulsating with a hunger to unmake all that his sister had built.
With a crushing grip, he shattered the Lymoros into seven fragments, each one a different shape of corruption. These he whispered into the minds of seven mortals, chosen for the emptiness in their souls and their desperate willingness to embrace chaos.
And with a final, toxic breath, Eruvannos launched the fragments of pure hatred upon the innocent world, beginning the chain of events that would see his sister's light—and all that they had built—unravel into the Void.