Ten
He didnot remember the nothingness that came before him, though he understood it. He understood it as well as he did the table under him or the world that stretched out around him. Every flora and fauna, man and beast, each were already known to him, as though they had been waiting all their lives to offer up their secrets.
Yet, for all he knew of them, they knew nothing of him . . . yet.
His eyes opened slowly, and the ethereal form of an elder god greeted him.
“Greetings, Creation. I am Light.”
Light . . .. . . The man was much like his namesake. He was more of a sun ray condensed into the shape of a man, not unlike Creation’s own. However, where Light’s form was brilliantly shining and seemingly not quite solid, Creation’s shape was fleshy, soft, and completely bare to the world.
“You were created for a purpose.”
“What purpose was I made for?” Creation explored the rumbling sound of his own voice.
“From the darkness, I have carved a place in the universe for you. Carver has fashioned you a form of wood and clay to occupy, and Life has lent you a portion of her power. All of this combined has made you, Creation: one with the power to build and shape from where there is none.”
“So, my purpose is to make?” His eyes drifted, now exploring his surroundings He was in a large, vaulted, marble hall, situated on a table in the center as though he were some sort of offering. To Light’s left was a woman—a child, more like—with bright eyes and a wide smile.She must be Life. To Creation’s left was a man with fiery hair and tan skin, burn marks and scars dotted across his flesh from what was no doubt building projects gone wrong—Carver.
“That is yourability, to bind the universe together, to bring life in union with the objects around it to make anew. But yourpurposeis to be a companion for Destruction.”
Just the name Destruction set his hairs on end. Like everything else, there was a deep knowing of this woman—a demigod, like him. But unlike the knowledge Creation had awoken with, she remained a sort of gap. It was as if there were a space in all his knowing, one that took the shape ofsomethingthat Creation knew to beher. From this gap, he could understand her and the role she occupied, but the details were missing. Details he now desperately needed.
“A . . . companion . . .” Creation repeated, feeling the word echo in him with profound rightness.
“Don’t let Light make you nervous.” Life tutted as she reached over, pulling Creation upright with a tug on his hand. The girl-like goddess was much stronger than her form let on. “It sounds grave and scary, but we promise you it’s not. She’s a little lost is all, and once she has you, she will no longer be so lost. You’ll be just the thing to get her on the right path.”
“Even better, your magic has been shaped to temper hers,” Carver added.
“Why would hers need tempering?” Creation asked. As the words left his mouth, he somehow already had an inkling of the answer.
Carver and Life shared a look, but it was Light who answered. “Because if she continues on the path she is on, it will lead to either a final end for her . . . or our world.”
Creation nodded. There was something connected to the outline of Destruction in his understanding. It was a tenuous thread, pulling her back toward a danger that was utterly foreign and downright alarming. Something he wanted to stop her from reaching.
“Now, let’s see to you sorting yourself out with some clothes.” Life continued her mission to get him off the table. She gave a little hop when he stood on his own for the first time.
“Clothing himself may be a good opportunity to practice his own power,” Carver suggested.
“I shall leave you to this task, my son.” Light laid a hand on his shoulder. Somewhere in the shifting rays, Creation could almost make out an approving gaze. “You shall be a worthy addition to our pantheon.”
“Thank you.” Creation nodded, and Light winked out of existence. Startled, Creation stumbled back
“He does that.” Carver was the first to speak, laughter in his voice. “He’s the oldest among us.”
Creation smiled at the god. Without being able to describe how, he knew that Light was one of the oldest, right alongside Life, who now stood before him.
“Sorry, I’m not used to new demigods. It’s not too common one of us gets split or we make someone new.” Carver forced a laugh. “Anyway, why don’t you attempt tofashionyourself some clothing. Whatever you prefer.”
Creation looked down at his nude form and then back to the other two. Life wore a floor-length dress under a long shawl, wrapped many times around her shoulders, covering her head, but not her face. Carver wore significantly less: a wrapped skirt that extended to his knees and a wide necklace of wooden tiles that rested over his shoulders and swooped across his chest.
Holding his hand before him, Creation felt his own magic swell. It was part Life, part Carver, and part Light, the three morphing into something entirely new. With a wave of his arm, threads of magic wrapped themselves around his body. They clung to his form, like small tendrils of light, and wove to make a shimmering golden tunic, tightening into a belt at the waist, with a cape resting overtop.
Life clapped her hands happily. “It suits you.”
Creation didn’t know if she was speaking about the garb, or his magic, so he said a simple, “Thank you.”
“Well, well, it’s time to be off with you, I believe.” Life ushered him out of the room and into another massive hall.
