Mated to Morpheus

MTM.38

a tad bit old

'The beginning of creation.

According to history, humans came from the joined essence of the earth and grew from the domains of those who represented the many aspects of the world. The Gods and Goddesses, whether they be the leaders of the sky, of the water, or of the forest, had turned their divine characteristics into one and created a realm much like their own. The responsiblity of this new formation was shared amongst them, and they all equally cared for the earth and it's developing inhabitants.

Their loving treatment was unmatchable. And, the frequent compulsions to fix what was wrong within their designed realm ached painfully in each and every one of their hearts. However, the originals were not familiar with such feelings that had created separations between their mortals. Xenophobia. Sexism. Homophobia. Racism. The list could go on. Unfortunately, they were unable to control the human's choices. They knew ecosystems. And, they worked hard to keep the oceans moving, to keep the grass growing, and to keep the sun shining. Soon, more major and minor deities would appear, and so did their abilities. They grew as humans did, slowly but surely.

For a long while, the world of the divine revolved around the realm of mortals. The once rested and unbothered were now parents in every sense of the word. But, it became easier as time went on, as more roles were filled, as helpers began to emerge, as earth evolved, and as humans started to become more independent, then it was no longer seen as a hard, drawn-out task. It turned into an undeniable blessing, and many began to feel as though it was time to make a change.

And so, the greatly debated decision of welcoming new beings into the mixture was approved. It started with the witches, created by Hekate, and were overflowing with arcana ever since they were granted the gift of life. Then, it was Dalnim's turn to bring the realm something different. And, the Goddess of the Moon is not one to disappoint. The Goddess moulded the bones of a wolf with the soul of a human, and thus successfully produced a being that was half-human and half-wolf. Werewolves. Gods and Goddesses praised them, claimed that they were not only protectors of the land but of the humans, as well.

However, with almost everything, there were regulations to follow. One of the most respected orders to obey was that at least ten centuries must be peacefully passed after a new creation is added, and that when the moment comes, the major deities must agree on what they are and who they will worship as their creator. The werewolves were only walkers of the earth for a mere five centuries when the greatest betrayal of the realm's history was committed.

All too soon, the rule had been broken. And, Áine was going to pay for it in inconsolable guilt and regret for the rest of her immortal life. She had knowingly executed a plan that was forbidden. This was a mystery to most. There was barely any understanding. The same questions were occupying the minds of everyone. 'Why did she do such a thing? What could have possibly possessed her to do that? Could she not have waited? You do not think that she was trying to beat her sister, do you?'. The truth of the matter was fairly simple, and it became abundantly clear far too quickly. The rumours ceased as soon as the answers were spilled. Jealously had erupted in her chest, and the power of envy cradled the Goddess of the Sun until she could no longer take the idea of not having beings to call her own. Centuries of planning. Centuries of asking. Centuries of begging. Centuries of wishing. Centuries of hoping. She had waited, and tried, and waited, and tried. Her attempts all written down as failures. Until, it wasn't. Until, her creation had finally breathed air.

Until, her creation withered away at her burning touch.

The end of creation.'