A fantasy story about godlike beings known as spirits! @professionallydeadinside
Veasna
The feeling of pure, absolute nothing is one Veasna would not forget for the entirety of her existence, no matter how deeply she wished to.
Perhaps feeling was an incorrect word. Feeling implies there was something to feel, and that Veasna was capable of feeling at the time. She wasn’t. In fact, Veasna wasn’t even Veasna, then. Veasna simply existed within an unending, infinite expanse of nonexistence, a fractured, crude consciousness.
She spent an eternity waiting for something to occur, though she had no idea as to what. Only, somewhere within her basic awareness, she knew that there was something else. There was more than just blankness. She knew there was some purpose to her, but she had no idea what. Veasna knew only that whatever she waited for would help her with that, would provide her a stage to fulfil her duties on.
She spent an eternity in nonexistence, before something real began to form.
A land, Milomir, it’s name was, was formed. After an eternity with nothing, the sudden surplus of existence was shocking, if shock had been a feeling at the time, which it wasn’t.
Veasna never knew what formed Milomir, nor what made her, or her love. Lestari had also spent an eternity in the suffering nothing, though she handled it much better than Veasna had. Despair hadn’t existed in the nothing, but all within Avlyrra, whether Theropan or Aradhana, agreed Veasna had crafted it. They also agreed Lestari had cured it, and that the two were the first to feel love.
Whatever all-mighty had created the two and Milomir, they also thought to send the two down to the newly formed world, and so two bright lights fell to the soil.
The two knew only their own names. They didn’t know their purpose, not yet. That was for Milomir to teach them. The two found each other quickly in the grand scheme of their first time on Milomir, though even that took years.
They met in the heart of what would become Avlyrra, once humans came and placed borders and names to the soil. Veasna had been in awe of the pinkish skin of Lestari, and her hair that was a purer aquamarine than even the clearest of ocean, her eyes the same colour as her hair. Veasna had felt very plain compared to the other, but that feeling faded quickly once she learned Lestari had too been knocked breathless by the sight of the other.
The two had simply watched the other in silence before Veasna had the sudden and inexplicable desire to stoop down and cup the lands soil into her palms.
“It whispers, does it not? It’s name, it’s purpose?” Veasna asked, watching as Lestari too took soil in her hands. The brown dirt looked strange on her pink skin, but Lestari paid it no mind.
“Yes, it does. I could make it out, if it’s whispers were but a breath stronger,” Lestari said, her gaze somewhere far off as she tried to make out what the land was saying.
It had a name, that much the two knew in that moment, yet it was many hours of sitting in the dirt before the two could understand it. Once they were able to, the whispers became cries of jubilation.
Milomir, Milomir! the soil cried to Veasna, Milomir, Milomir!
Veasna gasped sharply, and was about to tell the other what she had heard, but when she looked over, Lestari’s face told her that she had heard as well.
“Gracious world,” Veasna whispered softly, “that is this lands name. Milomir.”
“Milomir, yes. Let us hope this world is as kind as it’s name.” Lestari had no need for such worries, however, as the two would discover.
The world was barren, despite it’s soil. There were not yet animals, nor even grass or water, but the two did not need any of that. They required no food, nor shelter, nor water. They would not die, not when they had much still to do.
It was a time later when another important revelation was brought to light.
“You knew of Milomir’s cries before I,” Lestari began one day, though there was no real passage of days, without a sun or moon cycle, “and you heard their name before I, as well. I wonder, why?”
“The nothing did not phase you like it did me. It did not drain you, nor make you wait with anticipation for something you didn’t understand. Why, I wonder? Why did the nothing make me suffer so, while you withstood it perfectly fine?” Veasna countered, a small upturn to her lips.
The two would not know the answers for a long time, but eventually they would; Veasna knew of Milomir’s calls because she was Fate, knowledgeable of everything, constantly pulling strings for her plans, and Lestari was not phased by the time spent in the nothing, for she was Eternity in it’s entirety, unending and unyielding.
Fate and Eternity were the first, yes, but not the last. There was far too much planned for two to be the only ones.