The Origin Goddesses

Summary

The following is a short summary of the known Origin Goddesses, and what particulars they might encompass. Due to their very nature, little is truly known in the fullest extent, and much of what can be said is speculation and conjecture. It's important to keep in mind the availability of this information: it is often among the rarest of rare things to know. They can represent pinnacles of someone's life, or the prized pieces of an immortal's library.   Hence, for the vast majority of people throughout time, the origin goddesses are generally unknown.    

It-That-Loves-Us

My fellows, I stand before you today, a heretic on trial. There are those who believe my words ill, my thoughts wrong, and the truths I speak most vile. Yet for all who know me, by their words and not mine, I am none of these things. I, who have labored great and hard, long into many nights without comfort. I, who dared to question, and more still dreamed to ask 'why', even when no other would.   They call me a heretic; let them.   I stand here not before these fools. I stand before you, my people, and all who listen and watch. To you I will speak, and let you be my judge.   I ask, 'what is love'?   Yes, laugh! Be in good humor, it is important.   I ask again, 'what is love'?   Is it the bonds that tie us together? The carnal warmth that possesses the heart in throes of passion? The unwavering resolve of a mother, suffering to suffer so that her children might not? These great threads, these unbreakable things that define us all–we call that 'love'. Not 'loves', 'love'.   Where did it come from?   Yes, this thing we cherish so deeply in our bosom. This pure, untaintable thing that has always been with us–where did it come from? Is this not the question we pose, watching as our ancient enemies twist in form and mind? Do we not ask ourselves why they, once only hateful, now have love as well?   Did we, like them, live only with hate, to suddenly possess love instead?   Yes, now you are all silent. The truth that stands obvious to the eye, yet something we desperately try to hide from. It this I have gone in search of. It is this truth that Heyanch herself screams and hollers over, denying it. There are so many saying there is nothing, ignorant that nothingness itself, too, is an answer.   My fellows of the Union, I ask you all again.   What is love?   Is it darkness that comes to consume us as Heyanch foretold?   Or a burning revelation?

— An excerpt from a religious trial during the era of the Democratic Union of the Plains, in the Second Dawn. It and other documents relating to the period were uncovered from an underground complex near Mount Skyreach. The vault itself was identified by its name of 'The Heresies of Tolka', and bears striking similarities to Omnis, the Living Nation.

  The first, and typically only, Origin Goddess people encounter comes under many different names, ideas, and personas. It is a collection of so many different identities that to catalogue even a portion of them would fill torzei up by the dozens. It has no singular name for itself, and most people generally read it as "something that loves us". An unnameable existence, driven with a will far beyond comprehension that would've been terrifying if it wasn't so comforting.   It is through acts of love, courtship, familial piety, and such endearing bonds, that draw the attention of It-That-Loves-Us. Constantly judging, it watches those who uphold the virtues it approves of, and scorns those who act against them. It could be called the 'closest' of the Origin Goddesses to sapient life, in that perceiving its presence is much easier by comparison. Still, most people–and civilizations at large–live their existences without ever consciously recognizing it.   How its will manifests takes on different forms, from the barely perceivable to the viscerally terrifying. The most recordable forms are of its 'servants' are the erosokin, philians, storgeist, and agapeons. Of the four known varieties, the erosokin are the most common encounters people may be 'fortunate' to meet.   Charged with inscrutable orders and often working toward nonsensical ends, they appear quite chaotic on the surface. All of it, understandably, furthers It-That-Loves-Us' desires for people and their sharing of love. Such powerful and polarizing beings appearing, however, shake the lands (if not the world). All sorts of worldly goddesses and local deities erupt into a buzz of activity as they try to work around or against this divine incursion.    

The Fathom

Power is a mountain: the higher one climbs, the ever more difficult it becomes, and the lonelier you are destined to be. In return, you may ever do more than the mind can imagine.   Take heart, then, my pupils, that you are not bound for the peak of this mountain. Though you are here, training for perfection, it remains ever out of reach. Let not the impossibility of the task dissuade you, for the journey is as important as the destination itself.   If one cannot walk, how will they run?   If one cannot run, how will they soar?   One begets the other. Always keep this in mind, it will be the only comfort you will have on some nights.   Hm? Why is it then, do we ascend this mountain?   Everyone has a different story, another reason, and a purpose all their own. The mountain does not care. For, upon its most furthest reaches, only those motivated to the grandest of heights have any hope of reaching.   Power for power's sake is always a fool's errand. Seek power for the task you envision–the clearer your purpose, the more exacting the power you shall receive.   Let not the desires of power unto itself enter your minds. Beyond good or evil, power is absolute, pure, and untainted.   Without focus, it will become wild.   Without purpose, it will suffice for its own means.   Without intent, it will supplant you for its own purposes.   The mountain cares not–only those who are worthy may proceed further. It falls to the rest of us to weather the journey as much as we can, and give these desolate souls our kindest regards on their way past us.  

— From the lessons of Wutela, renowned mage and scholar. In recordings of her lessons, it becomes unerringly clear she regards magic as a being of its own nature, a rather controversial and unsubstantiated thought compared to her peers of the time and age.

  An Origin Goddess more theorized to exist than concretely known, hence often called the Fathom. The nautical origins of its name pertain to the seemingly endless depth of its existence. This is especially pertinent as, generally, it is also regarded as the 'origin of mana'. Whether it is actually the source or the greatest being that controls mana remains up for debate, though.   The greatest credibility toward its existence comes from three strange divinities: apeira, ouroboros uplifters, and tetrahedron destroyers. These aloof entities manuever across Veltrona without discernible reasons, slipping in between dimensions at will. Baarham, who are often obsessed with magic, have spent the longest time tracking and studying them. It is by their records they regard the apeiron and destroyers as 'scholars and tools'. That is, they study the world, its people, and seemingly reality itself.   Apeira in particular entered popular understanding the most during the destruction of the World Gate. They, more than any other force, worked to contain the cataclysmic mana releasing that sundered Aerthen and Nerzin, giving birth to the Barrier Sea. It is theorized they also did work for Tyrant's Sea, but few people survived the detonation of the World Gate on that end.   Magic, as a whole, draws the servants of the Fathom and so, presumably, the Fathom's as well. As magic is the art of manipulating mana, it could be better said 'mana activity catches their notice'. Despite attempts over the eons, their appearances are random. It is not necessarily great or strong activity that draws them in. Some speculate another World Gate-level explosion might do the job, but only those truly out of their minds are willing to try and do that. Those who know better, at least, feel drawing their attention isn't actually that good to do.   If one interferes with an apeiron and whatever they do, they will simply destroy those who get in their way. It is by far better to let them do their business and leave, and few people have survived otherwise. However, those who have earned their recognition often leave with new, profound insights of their own. That is, work they 'like' is 'rewarded' with insights into magical arts.   It could be surmised, then, the Fathom cares only to see what can be done with magic. Whether its unique or not doesn't seem to matter. Pursuing and utilizing magic, itself, is enough seemingly.    

The Great Elk and the Eyeless Wolf

I awoke that night from a terrible howl; strangled, pained, and screeching in such a way it might split the throat in two. Never in all my days have I heard such a terrible noise, and I had half a mind to stay indoors.   But, I am tasked to guard the woods, and guard them I would.   I gathered my gear, and ventured into the woods, short-bow in hand. The chittering, grating squeal of the insects had faded away, an unusual thing on a summer's night. Nay, the further I went under the moon light, the quieter the forest had become.   Even in the dark, there should've been a thrum of life. Not that night.   It made finding my quarry all the easier, much as I hate to say it. A thornback wolf was pacing back and forth in a clearing, its body ... spirits, even now, thinking on it sends a chill down my spine. I have hunted for five summers, and brushed death more than once.   This was a fear not a word comes to mind to describe.   Its body had grown in size, four times what it should've been. The skin split open, and the bones still cracked and snapped, rearranging under everything. When it ceased pacing, it snarled and growled at nothing, spittle and teeth shooting from its mouth. Those eyes ... it just, ripped them out, clawing bloody holes in its head, unfettered by the blood spilling everywhere.   It saw me, somehow, without seeing, and froze in place. This great, writhing beast took such an instant halt, its gouged out face staring at me hiding in the thicket. Then, I ... I, well, felt it.   No, more like I knew it.   It was angry. Hateful. Raging.   It hated me–it hated me so greatly I felt as if it were screaming in my ears.   I took my shot the moment it started barreling toward me, nailing it thrice before I had to run myself. We fought, mostly in me running away, taking my shots where I could. I ran up trees, it slammed into them shoulder first. Its claws slapped and snapped against the bark, all but hurling itself after me.   No matter how much it should've hurt, it still just kept coming at me.   So blinded by its rage, it barreled past me and down a small hill-side cliff. The drop stunned it enough I got the drop and broke its spine right in the middle.   Do you know what happened?   It limped after me, clawing at the veltron with its two front paws, snarling its bloody, broken maw at me, its broken body dragging behind.   Only once I clubbed its skull in completely did the unholy thing finally stop.   The captain and the others were speechless when I got back. Said it was quite the achievement, taking down a Relentless all on my own.   It makes sense, looking back on why they'd call it that. That creature certainly was.   No one ever mentioned the hate.   Captain says I'm just close to nature, but ... that–that was something else.

— An excerpt from the private journal of a woodsman, living in the backwater regions of Aerthen.

  The Relentless Herds and Packs are terrors as old as time across Veltrona. Everyone, everywhere, has had to fight against them and survive endlessly. Silent ruins of those who failed are all that remain, not even bones left by the beasts that consumed them. It can be of no surprise then, that people are willing to worship and venerate divinities who can stand against such evil. So these deities set out, searching for the origins of the Relentless time and again.   It is from those who survived and escaped that the 'goddesses' of the Relentless became known. The so-called Great Elk, mother of the herds, and Eyeless Wolf, huntress of the packs, stand against any goddesses seeking to thwart the Relentless. Their awesome power defies description, speakable only in the countless generations of divinities they've slaughtered. Yet their reach only goes so far; they have never once stepped beyond the bounds of their domain.   It is only from that can people find comfort, believing there are rules that yet bind even such unfathomable existences. Like those who draw strength from faith, their influence is limited to the reach of the Relentless. In such a way it becomes clear their mortal 'followers' devour mortal peoples, while they destroy their goddesses. It is a simple arrangement, but one with a proven brutality throughout history itself.   There are those who've tried worshipping them, venerating their natural savagery in great worship. Their reward was the were-disease, a sickness that destroys sapience itself. In forsaking the idea of personhood, they become the ultimate beasts. Their sole purpose is that of the Relentless: the destruction of all sapient life. Hence, such cults are short lived, but their progenies are uniquely devastating.   The presence of goddesses for the Relentless is an often well-kept secret, to prevent worship and were-disease if nothing else. Scholars who know, however, are continually vexed by them. Why do these goddesses, who possess thought themselves, hate sapience so much? What compels them to murder all peoples that arise across the world? They, who preserve nature without a peep, yet tear down the works of people with unmatched viciousness.   It is, sadly, a mystery that may never be answered.    

Yotol, "the Beloved End"

I know not where I was, but I knew what I beheld.   It stood like a woman, its body that of a person. But, it's skin, there was no skin. I saw upon its body that the bodies of others, intertwined in their hands, their legs, their arms, their organs, their faces ... all of them. At first, I thought it was bark.   It towered over all like the grandest tree, its skull of people empty and void of light. A creaking groan came as it turned around, but I could've sworn it was them screaming.   A crown of thorns jutted from its head, and hanging off of the branches, I saw those I'd once hung from trees myself.   Then, I realized, the people that were it, all of them dead or dying ... it was like a tapestry of death. Every death I've known, and more I've never seen, laid before me.   I ran as fast as I could, but I figured, I didn't outrun it.   It let me go.  

— An excerpt from a journal found amongst the ruins of a monastery. It is notable that, despite its complete isolation, the name Yotol is shared with several other similar documents found across the world. While the absolute definitions vary, the phonetic assembly of 'Yotol' always occupies linguistic families relating to death, decay, and the ending of things. All of this, normally, somewhere in the context of life or living.

  A very strange Origin Goddess as inscrutable as the Fathom. Yotol seemingly embodies ideas of death, decay, 'the end of things', and more. Because of the Great Elk and Eyeless Wolf, a common belief is that Yotol is the goddess of the Forsaken themselves. However, Grave Queens, liches, vampires and more have no actual connection to Yotol. Those who have even tried finding the goddess end up as frustrated as other people.   The only true knowledge to be found comes from the very biased mouths of the revenants. These people, returned to life as undead, do so through Yotol's power. Some seem to have bargained for it, others given a mission or quest, and more still sent without any actual knowing as to why. Possessed of purpose all the same, the revenants follow through faithfully to the end, no matter what. Some liken it to a kind of spiritual slavery, a harrowing thought that many religions have come to violently oppose.   Over time, scholars pieced together different ideas regarding Yotol. A general one, upheld by the jiuweihu who study the matter, is that Yotol isn't actually 'dead'. It is a being outside of life and death; arguably, time itself. Those who live, possessed of the bias called 'life' and 'death', perceive it as such. They attest that Yotol is much closer to 'immortality', in the sense of permanent existence. It would explain why the 'appearance', and encounters of the goddess, are so completely random.   That is, depending on how one regards 'forever', Yotol becomes shaped by it.   It doesn't do much to explain the revenants, nor their soulbound purposes, though. Cultivators from Nerzin liken it toward one resolving their 'mortal qualms' to find peace as newfound immortals. It is an important process, especially for those who were once mortal, and then stepped into divinity. For them, Yotol is a much more understandable figure, and some regard transcendence as belonging to its domain.   The fact may be, if Yotol is influenced by one's perceptions, it would be an ever changing goddess. What it may actually come to represent then, too, would change. It is endlessly frustrating for scholars across the generations all the same.    

The Reckoning

Oh greatest of greats, our Mother!
Blind we were, now we see,
Your perfection beyond measure,
Your love warms us to life!
  And great we toil, to endeavor,
For You who loves us still,
And for you always seeking Her,
Lost in a warmthless sea,
  Tearing out our deceiving eyes,
Rip this skin asunder,
Break these bones, forging us anew!
Our soul awaits the words,
  Lies fade and crumble beneath them,
Truth arises hotter!
Now eternal in form and word,
Ichor blooms from within!
  And still we toil, ever nearer,
Our faith burning and pure,
One is now four, soon to be eight,
Your blessings shall arrive,
  For all who are cold and unloved,
For any who come near ...
   

— The First Orjanian Hymn   One of the few hymns to survive the Terrible Refusal. It is considered in canon to be the first hymn, and thus taught to all Orjanians. Innumerable variations hence followed, but the First Hymn and its surviving kin are kept isolated for their purity. It is traditionally sung during non-specific worship of the Great Mother and during rites of Subliminal Awakening.

  An Origin Goddess that is, by all accounts, actually quite 'new' for the universe at large. As age is meaningless to those who exist outside of time, its better to measure by the 'amount of influence'. The Reckoning has had little activity across Veltrona itself, and no one has any idea what it actually encompasses. There is some evidence that point toward its involvement in the Second Dawn, but that's difficult to say for certain.   The evidence arises from studying the relative activity of the Origin Goddesses. In other words, when the Reckoning appeared, all of them suddenly started doing much less on Veltrona itself. Some scholars postulate its some kind of enforcer goddess, keeping its peers in line. Others, pointing toward circumstancial evidence, consider it a primary actor in a so-called War in Heaven. There have been great attempts by worldly goddesses to garner its attention as a result. Such a being would be immensely helpful against the likes of the Great Elk and Eyeless Wolf.   However, their calls continually failed, if they are even doing them correctly in the first place.    

She-of-the-Radiance

"While it is easy to confuse any number of sun worshiping cultures deities–indeed, they all express very common attributes–I must nonetheless clarify the nature of Atenkhet's own worship," the professor addressed the gathered body of students. In turning toward the chalkboard, she gestured with a long, thin pointer at some rather dense text.   "Even the very nature of Atenkhet's chief Goddess, Akenra, has changed over the course of its lifetime. Indeed, it wasn't until the ascension of pharaoh Aramix that scripture around this Goddess stabilized into what we all know today." She stepped down the length of the board, moving onto the next set of inscriptions. "It is important to understand the context of pharaoh Aramix's ascension. Atenkhet was, by all accounts, on the verge of total collapse. So it can be seen that Akenra's change from a kind, benevolent Goddess turned into one of being aloof, and judgemental reflects that time period."   A tapping came behind, and she beheld a student holding a hand up. "Yes?"   "But did, uhh, any of the other Goddesses change?"   "A useful question. Surprisingly, no, not really. While the rest of Atenkhet's pantheon does have subtle changes over time, many of their lesser Goddesses are quite stable. The changes with Akenra, especially as the chief Goddess, are particularly profound in this regard."   Stepping over, she arrived at a third and final set of inscriptions. Unlike the others, they were written around a circular representation of the 'world'. Around that, other, smaller circles orbited, ostensibly labeled 'world' as well. "Mind you, it is quite difficult to understand some of the nebusian languages, but keep the mind open. Akenra, you see, has moved from being a Goddess of this world–indeed, pharaoh Aramix atests that Akenra sees over many, many worlds. Even more curious, she postulates that every star in the night sky is but another sun, yet all of them are Akenra."   Another tapping. "Yes?"   "But uh, doesn't that make her the most powerful Goddess ever?"   The professor smiled at the otherwise dim-witted question. "No, but it certainly does make one wonder."   A different student asked, "Wonder what, professor?"   "A great many things, but most of all, why has the pharaoh offered such a standoffish version of Akenra? If it were a moral lesson to teach, then certainly at some point in the last few centuries, the scripture might've changed or adjusted. For your assignment today, you are to contemplate and muse on why the pharaoh has kept canon surrounding Akenra as rigid and unmoving as it has been."  

— A theological class in an upper university somewhere in Dorvar.

  Sun-worship is a common source of reverence across Veltrona. The myriad reasons being what they are, there is an unusual undercurrent toward the sun itself. Sometimes judgemental, others aloof but observing, and more that regard it as a distant parent–all of them, universally as something that 'watches people'. These details are usually co-opted by worldly goddesses, who are far more personable to their worshippers than an origin goddess. However, even the worldly goddesses can only nervously accept that the sun, too, watches them.   Despite the endless praises or hatreds foisted upon it, the sun does not care. She continues on, watching everyone, shining brillantly and feeding the world of her abundant radiance. In time, people accepted this, and so the radiance moved out of their minds. It always was, and would be, and so life went on. It wouldn't be until the arrival of lindwurm, gehurm, and urni that a very different understanding arose.   Lindwurms and gehurm, species native to the Underworld, lived without the sun overhead. Upon breaching the surface of Veltrona, they universally come to hate daylight because something is always watching them. It triggers their instincts fiercely, and if they cannot adjust to it, often become 'nocturnal' to avoid it. This is a problem in a different sense–because many more things are watching them then, too. It is only marginally better as these things are farther away, in a sense. For them, who have no eyes, the vast Heavens themselves always seem to have their eyes on them.   For the urni, who had eyes, their peoples grew with a stark understanding the sun was alive. To them, she was a great sky being whose awesome presence warmed the world. Some came to adore her as their proverbial mother, others rejecting her, painting themselves in colors to 'hide'. While initially dismissed, other sun worshippers found common grounds with urni thoughts, and painted a very different picture. The summation of it was quite apt: the sun was a radiant goddess, far beyond all others. Light and heat was her gift to mortal kind, and in return she wanted something.   What that something was, no one could say definitively. She-of-the-Radiance, as her name usually boils down into, is searching for 'something'. An intense, eternal search as bright as the sun is hot. Countless offerings have fallen upon altars to her, but none of them were ever taken. What it could possibly be, in the end, is a timeless mystery even worldly goddesses have struggled to figure out.   However, She-of-the-Radiance does make contact with people. It's hard to say what such a bizarre being wants, but her involvement is never malicious. It's almost always regarded as 'you want help, help me too' manner of business.