While the points of view and flavor differ, we continue to find the same repeating factors in all Genesis mythologies: a force of Creation and a force of Destruction held in check by a third force, one of Balance, usually presented as the ideal. In all my research, I have yet to encounter a single religion or syncretic system of belief that deviated from the same pattern and indeed, one could piece together the same cosmogony tale from teachings of distant or even opposing religions.
– Sophides, “Rational Faith”, 482 P.R.
“Before the Breaking, One was All and All was at peace, for the purpose is One. Thus was in the beginning and so will the end be, all Dei, all ideas, all perceptions, all states of existence. So in the endless prospects of One, its own absence was perceived and the concept of None was born. So now One had become Two, one that Makes and one that Takes, one that Creates and one that Destroys. And they both were flawed in their vision and execution for no Part can perceive All.
Of the Two, the Creator, who was the memory of One, wished to remake it, yet it destroyed it further with each creation. The Destroyer would try to achieve None, for it was born from its perception. And yet its works led towards All being One once more. And the two were locked in eternal struggle, within themselves and with each other, creating and destroying for ages immeasurable until the illumination of the Third, who shows that all can exist within the One.”
– From the teachings of Incaladrus,
recognized Father Aspect Incarnate of the Deists, circa 348 P.R.
“And the Mismatched Twins fought for eons, blindly creating and destroying realities that Theos never intended to exist, where Passions ruled, and Sin was spread in all of their dimensions. This lasted for uncounted eternities, before Theos, Father of All, was finally angered and his anger poured into the Mismatched. It was Theos’ anger that made Creation, weaker a warrior, finally wound Destruction. And it was Theos’ anger that finally allowed Destruction, ever stronger but never strong enough, to return the blow and shatter his Twin. And the Lord heard one’s wailings and saw the other shattered, and his Mercy was made manifest.
Creation remained shattered, subduing to its rightful Ruler’s will. But Destruction saw weakness in Mercy and did not see the Will behind it. And he mocked and challenged Theos. This futile blasphemy enraged the Almighty. Then the Lord’s Mercy and the Lord’s Anger came together and his Justice shone radiant and burned brightly all over creation. Our Lord fell upon Destruction and cursed him for eternity and called him Belzul, the Accursed and made him kneel before smiting him and strangled him forever, bringing him pain eternal.”
– Nova Fides: Principium 3:8-18,
Holy Book of the Theist Church
“Lie with me” said she and took her brother in her arms and with words he liked he put his mind to slumber. And when his black eyes closed, Nen struck. Slowly she strengthened her embrace at first, fearful of waking him. But as Antuk fell deeper and deeper into slumber, firmer and firmer her hold would become, then harsher, then strangling, building layers upon layers of stone and metal shackling her sibling. All her might it took even though still he slumbered, but in the end, her first creation formed. Ne’nea, is her name, the Womb, that will give birth to destruction at the end of Time, but in the tongues of men they call her Eä. The Prison some say it means, the Field say others, while others still say Home, for the tongues of Men are many.
And yet Nen’s task was still not over. From her place in the darkness of the Well, she looked around and saw the pieces of the Ever-Maker drawing closer, for he too is as eternal as his brother.
“Move” she then commanded, and from her word her first child, Ronu, the Dancer, Ever-Moving, was born. He rushed from her mouth and set upon the Blackness of the Well, laughing and running, grabbing and shoving, making Kunte’s pieces to dance and twirl, unable to unite till the end of his dance. Time, Men call him, and fear him as a Runner, but for his dance the cosmos would cease for all but the Spawn.
– The Tale of Coming, told by Shak’heer the Limbing,
passed down to him by Kush’zar the Eyeless and to him by Tzek’Hal
the Maimed and by all the Flawed before them, mouth to ear,
since the birth of the Neantali people, before the Old Dominion