Lazzamore
WAAAAAAAAAA-
The Alfathers realm was full of light. Their was no discernible darkness in view, just blue skies and clouds. No sun or moon, either, no weather and only a slight fresh breeze. Just light.
In it's core their was an island; floating stone and earth with tall, stocky trees with all sorts of delicious fruits for the demigods feasting. It was paradise.
The island hosted a spring and a river of clean water, and near it a settlement. Various gazebos for the demigods to rest in; though no walls, for the 'Allfathers Palm' hosted no threats or disease.
But it would not be forever alone, this island. The Alfather had plans for these skies. He would place his children here, and to them he would present his mighty Gift: a Reality to mold.
This reality existed through a special pool in the center of the largest gazebo. It's water reflected not the space around it, but a black void full of small specks of various lights. It showed the Mortal Realm, a vast, empty place that continued in all directions forever.
Through the pool, into Mortal existence all was dark. Clouds of color and stars contrast the blackness of the abyss. It was lovely, really.
The world was formed there, in a harsh and painful glow of the young, bright, yellow sun. But the sun could not be seen from it's surface, shrouded in dark clouds of ash and raw gases yet to separate. Their storms raged, lightning peeled and fire and water erupted from the ground, into the deafening howls of winds. The birth-cry of a world.
The world was overlooked by a moon, which appeared to the naked eye to be a malformed chunk of molten stone, and a massive field of swirling space clouds, lit aflame.
Back in the Alfather's realm, from out of the bright, eternally noon-sky several balls of fire fell. One contained you.
In it's core their was an island; floating stone and earth with tall, stocky trees with all sorts of delicious fruits for the demigods feasting. It was paradise.
The island hosted a spring and a river of clean water, and near it a settlement. Various gazebos for the demigods to rest in; though no walls, for the 'Allfathers Palm' hosted no threats or disease.
But it would not be forever alone, this island. The Alfather had plans for these skies. He would place his children here, and to them he would present his mighty Gift: a Reality to mold.
This reality existed through a special pool in the center of the largest gazebo. It's water reflected not the space around it, but a black void full of small specks of various lights. It showed the Mortal Realm, a vast, empty place that continued in all directions forever.
Through the pool, into Mortal existence all was dark. Clouds of color and stars contrast the blackness of the abyss. It was lovely, really.
The world was formed there, in a harsh and painful glow of the young, bright, yellow sun. But the sun could not be seen from it's surface, shrouded in dark clouds of ash and raw gases yet to separate. Their storms raged, lightning peeled and fire and water erupted from the ground, into the deafening howls of winds. The birth-cry of a world.
The world was overlooked by a moon, which appeared to the naked eye to be a malformed chunk of molten stone, and a massive field of swirling space clouds, lit aflame.
Back in the Alfather's realm, from out of the bright, eternally noon-sky several balls of fire fell. One contained you.