The Teicna Files 01 - In the Beginning...

    In time immemorial, in history lost to all but the gods and the most thorough and studious of scholars, there was naught but a single being. In an ancient, demonic record, this being is referred to as 'The origin'. The Elemental Four have also been written to rarely speak of 'One Greater', although there is no further context for this term. Whatever or whomever it might have been, it existed above and beyond anything else that has ever been known in this world or beyond. If the scant records are to be believed, it was this presence that willed the planet of Teicna into being, along with every star, moon, and distant world in the night sky.

    At the time of its creation, Teicna was an empty and barren place, the writings claim; little more than a flooded hunk of rock peppered with violent volcanoes and clinging to a scant atmosphere of choking gases. It might have stayed this way, too, had the almighty presence not seen fit to provide the newborn world with the Four.

    The Elemental four, primordial deities of the elements, looked down upon the uninhabitable rock they had been made to oversee. They were Malephesh, the spirit of stone, Ignis, the spirit of flame, Dalensh, the spirit of water, and Vespis, the spirit of air. These gods - the first gods of a plethora that would eventually watch over their beloved homeland - were seemingly left to their own devices, to play in the empty, lifeless sandbox of Teicna's past and create in it whatever they willed.

    Malephesh and Ignis joined forces to draw the molten stone from the planet's core and create great landmasses above the surface of the ocean, carved into whatever shapes took their fancy and peppered with towering peaks of jagged rock. Dalensh and Vespis, meanwhile, looked at the vast, placid ocean and empty, motionless skies with disdain. They were beings of motion and activity, and so they set to work whipping air and sea into a frenzy - much to the disdain of their fellows, who found their stonework quickly eroded away by the violent storms. In time, and with stern words from the land-shapers, the two tired of their games and calmed themselves, focusing their efforts to create weather systems that would ensure that neither of their domains was ever motionless again.

    This kept the Four occupied for some time, creating a vast landscape of continents, islands, thrashing oceans, and cloud-filled skies. Eventually, however, they tired of the monotony and grew restless. They had become masters of their respective elements, and as such those elements had become rote and predictable. They desired something that would react to their world on its own terms. Something that would adapt to the landscape over time and give them something new to observe every now and again. Something... alive.

    Their first efforts were clumsy, ugly, and quickly dispatched. Hideous, mindless beasts that could barely keep themselves alive, let alone keep their gods entertained. It was a learning experience at most and an utter failure at worst. As a second attempt, the Four started smaller. They began with simple organism; shapeless amoeboids, worms, basic plant life... Species that wouldn't move much or do anything drastic, but that could grow and propagate themselves well enough to make a solid foundation for the gods to build upon. These led to more complex, ambulatory creations. Nothing particularly elegant, but somewhat intelligent and leagues above the monstrosities that had preceded them. At last, the gods took the next step: They created sapient life. Life with an intelligence vaguely comparable to their own. The potential for self-awareness, creativity, emotions and desires beyond simple comfort and survival... and yet, once again the gods found themselves repulsed by what they had created.

    The Four were mystified. Aesthetically, the creatures were not entirely displeasing, but... something about each strain they had formed seemed to embody a trait one or more of them found reprehensible on a level they could not explain. Some element of each of these intelligent creations was flawed and imperfect in a way that offended the gods - perhaps, some say, because it reminded them of their own worst traits. These flaws were reflected in the creatures' behavior as well, with the species quickly stooping to petty, violent squabbles over seemingly nothing and drastically reducing their populations. The gods tried for a time to sustain their creations, making them hardier and more versatile with each surviving generation, but this simply meant that their altercations could last longer, get bloodier, and generally be even more displeasing than ever. At last, the gods admitted defeat. They could not stand their creations, and it had begun to taint their view on the world itself. It was time for a clean slate.

    Pooling their power, the Four rolled up the surface of their world the way one might crumple a piece of paper, sealing their creations within an earthen tomb and then banishing it from their sight. Left with a featureless sphere in place of their failed world, they began anew. The work was much slower this time around, with each mountain, shoreline, and seabound trench being given a great deal of thought before committing to a single change. They were determined to make this world last.

    Decades passed, and then centuries, although the passage of time was of no concern to anything on the planet's new surface just yet. It took an age and a half before the Four had even risked creating flora for their world again, let alone fauna. Their careful shaping of the new landscape of the world had been incredibly meticulous, and the gods were wracked by fear that they would once again loathe their living creations and be forced to start from scratch a second time. And yet, this fear was eventually overtaken by hope that they had perhaps learned their lesson.

    The first living thing of the new world was lovingly crafted and set free upon the surface. What precisely it was has been lost to history, but the thing apparently met with approval from all four. With its success, their fears were dispelled and the floodgates were opened. In short order, the planet teemed with life of all sorts, though all of a simple, sub-sapient intelligence. The gods were content, at least for a time, to leave their creations blissfully unaware of the burdens of higher intelligence and the unsightly behavior it seemingly brought with it. It was a hurdle all of the Four wished to clear eventually, but for now, they rested, gazing upon their celestial ant farm with pride.

[ Next Time - New Races, New Gods ]