There was a time once, long ago, when there was nothing. No light, no air; there was no water or earth, and no warmth. There was only darkness, and nonexistence, the night sky without a moon nor a star in it.
Out of the darkness there came the god. No one created the god, nothing formed the god, the god simply was. The god sprung into existence from nothing, and had all the power of the cosmos; and he was as Light, the Sun before the sun that nurtures us now.
Being newly born, the god spent many eons expanding, growing and reaching out, searching for something else like himself, but there was nothing. So he decided to create another, which would be like himself and able to speak with him and feel his presence.
The new thing he created was the spirit Zius. Zius came about at the god’s thought, and the two began to communicate with each other. The god loved the spirit at once, but Zius was suspicious, and rather envious of the god’s powers, for it had none.
“Why have you created me like you, but only as a weak, powerless spirit?” It asked it’s creator. “Are you so selfish that you have created me for yourself, helpless and dependent on you forever?”
The god felt guilty at Zius’ words. “If you wish it, I shall create for you, so that you may shut yourself up away from me at times you want to be alone,” he said, and thought of another creation, the earth and land. But the land was barren, and there was no life upon it, nor water or sunlight with which plants could sprout and grow.
Again, Zius complained, “I have naught to do here but sit idle and useless, and cannot enjoy my time alone. Will you not give me something else to do besides converse with you?”
And so the god, pitying the spirit, created the sun and the seas; and these he let flow into the land and seed the plants that grow in the earth for the spirit to tend to.
And again, Zius came to the god and said, “You do not understand me, Creator, for you have all the power of the universe, where I have none. I wish there was another like me that would walk with me amongst life, and tend to the earth and seeds; and the other would produce more of itself to plow and feed the land, so that I would no longer have to come to you and ask these favors.”
The god berated the spirit, “You wish to become like me in your own world; already I have made you a place for yourself, while I live in the nothingness and void. If you cut yourself off from me, as is in you the desire to do so, you will surely cease to be.”
When the spirit heard this, it flew into a rage and became a rock in a mountainside to hide itself from its creator.
Alone again, the god walked in the woods, and felled a tree with his hand. The tree then began to shrivel up, so the god gave the tree a spirit of it’s own. This was the first Exekian, Embal, who drew sustenance from the mud and sucked in the first breath of air. His leaves fell off and his bark softened to flesh, but he could not speak, and was blind to all things.
The god took a knife and cut out holes in the man’s skin, filling two with smooth pebbles for eyes and a slit for a mouth with a leaf tongue. But the man could not see the god, only the life around him, nor could it hear the god, except in dreams. The man sensed the god and his power, and that he had made him and given him the ability to see and sense the beauty of creation; and he bowed down to worship the god.
“What is your name, god of all things, so that I may call you in prayer?” the first man asked.
“I am as Light, so name me after Light. I am the beacon in the void; I am the flame in the darkness.” Said the god. And the first man called the god Akhen, He Who Is As The Sun.
So loving of the god was the man, the god could not be rid of his praises; and the man grew thin and sick with worship, for he could not stop to eat and drink. And so Akhen created another spirit locked within a flowering bush, and this was the first female. He made her alluring to distract the Exekian and free himself; but as with all things, what is done for one’s own convenience creates far worse problems.
Zius flew over the mountains, and swooped down to where the female lay. He too found her desirable, but could not have her as man could, and so sought to drive her spirit from her body.
“Why do you remain here, while the male does what he will with you? The god created you only to save himself; you have no purpose of your own.”
“You speak the truth, dragon, but I am content as I am, for I have no worries. While the man slaves away with sacrifice and tending, I am able to sit and admire as I please,” the female said.
“What you say is vulgar and selfish, and Akhen would surely kill you if he heard you say it,” Zius replied. The female did not know what death was, for she had never seen it in her short life, and so she did not heed his words. But the man had heard her speak, and went to Akhen to ask that she be made to work as his equal. So the god made her labor for months in childbearing, and a child was born that was not made from the land, Monaxia.
When Zius heard of the child, he returned to the female again. “See how I warned you, but you did not listen? Now the man will surely make you bear many more children to account for the work he does.”
The female grew agitated by his words, until she flung herself on her knees and pleaded, “What must I do to be free of this punishment?”
And Zius said, “Leave your body and go into the water, so that you may flow free of man and child.”
So the female did as he instructed, and her spirit flowed free of her body, which was devoured by the creatures of the sea.
The first Exekian cried out to the god, “Why have you allowed her to leave me and the child?”
“I do not control the will of my creations, for if I did I would still be alone,” replied Akhen. “She has been influenced by Zius. Now she lies in the depths of the earth, weeping at her foolishness. But if you wish it of me, I will make another female, but she will only be able to have one child every half an era.
The first Exekian agreed to this, and so Akhen made a second female, Azara. She knew nothing of the first female, and bore but one child with each half of an era.