“I suppose you know some of it,” said Percival. “In the beginning, the god Chaos ruled over this world and the next, giving birth to the eternal nothingness. That was until the Goddess came to life. Where She danced, the darkness became land, Her tears of joy became oceans, and Irkalla, the lower sea where the monster of Her dreams lived. She found the bodies of twins amongst the darkness and breathed life into them, giving them names: Sonn and Nyalne,”
“The sun and the moon,” chimed in Anala, fixated on the outside world. Will listened silently, whilst he remembered the story, the way Percival spoke made it seem new and entrancing.
“She created the three skies and placed them amongst the stars. As one slept in Her arms in the highest sky, the other lit the world. Later, She made animals from strands of Her hair, and then raised two races of souls from the earth: the magi, who carried pieces of her magick, and the aosí, who carried pieces of her soul. But the Goddess was still lonely, so She conceived in Herself five children who could rule the worlds by her side, and each was given magick of an ultimate power, each one different: the magick of the elements.”
“Everybody knows the next part,” Will sighed. “They were the Five, and they each had a child and became the Ten. Then they all died and were reincarnated into the royal families – look, what’s the point of telling me this?”
Percival held up a finger to stop him. “They did not simply die, Will. The Ten were gods and goddesses unable to die, but the Goddess gave them flesh and blood so that we, the children of Gaien, could worship them. They did eventually die, yes, in the midst of a war against one of their own. Their bodies were temporal, but their powers were not. They were replanted into the souls of ten new-born children from all over Maegard, and when the faithful brought them all together, they formed the Incarnate, and for near-on eight thousand years, their descendants have laid claim to dominion over this world. They were our kings and queens until –,”
“Until humans happened,” said Anala, finally turning back to them as the last of the traders left the inn. “They usurped them, chased them into exile. And they’ve declared war on anybody of magickal or mystical blood. Lucky us.”