The Genesis of the world, according to the Cult of Arikura
(I premise this further by statikg that this is what the Cult teaches and believes, it does not mean that it reflects the reality)
According to The cult of Arikura, the world we know today was once the dead remains of a world that was before. As it lay in the aether, it’s rotting, putrid reek attracted a great carrion bird.
The vulture punctured the bloated belly of the corpse with it’s beak.
From the now open, fetid wound of the corpse spilled out the world as we know it. The land formed from it’s meat, rivers snaked through the land like guts. Blood pooled to form oceans, and mountains rose from the exposed bones.
The vulture laid an egg over the carrion and flew off, which on the 11th day cracked open, spilling forth great things.
From the yolk came sun and light that illuminated the world: The goddess of life, Aion.
From the white came the moon and the night sky: Arikura, the god of death.
Finally, from the shell came together the medium that held all things together: Kektun, the god of time.
Aion saw the world empty and barren, and wished for it to be lush and fertile. Arikura wanted all things to pass and preferred the quiet of the world.
The two were at an impasse, but the wise Kektun brokered a peace between them, promising that he would give time fairly to both siblings. All of creation would exist for a time, but Arikura would await everyone at their journey’s end. Thus was the pact of eons born.
For some time, the balance was maintained, and the cycle of life and death was in harmony. But Aion grew possessive of her creations and their lives. Like an overbearikg mother, Aion demanded more time for her children from Kektun and Arikura.
Obviously, Arikura refused, demanding his tithw of souls to continue. Kektun also refused, wishing to preserve the delicate balance between life and death.
Infuriated with the decision, Aion wanted to kill Arikura, so that she could let her creations live forever. However, Aion knew that she would not be strong enough to defeat both Arikura and Kektun together, so long as the pact stood.
Aion left, angry and frustrated at the state of things. She cursed her greedy brother for demanding her childrens’ lives ro sustain himself, and the other one for standing up for him.
It was then that Aion saw the vulture that had laid forth the world fluttering across the sky. The battered old bird was haggard, it’s feathers’ as pale as death itself and skin hanging like a burial veil upon it’s festures. The very thing that had given birth to this world was dying.
Aion spoke to the vulture, asking why such a divine being was dying. The vulture answered that it had chosen to die, because that was the cycle that the siblings had agreed to. From life would come death, and from death, life.
Aion pleaded with the vulture, asking for a way to circumvent death, so that nothing would have to die again. The vulture warned Aion of such a path: Upsetting the balance they had held for so long would bear bitter fruit not only for the mortals, but the gods as well.
Aion insisted for an answer from the dying beast, and finally, it reluctantly responded. The vulture explained that she could give birth to immortal gods like herself, who could only be touched by death with her consent, as all life was her domain. The vulture pleaded with Aion not to choose this path one last time, warning her of the consequences, before dying.
Aion watched the divine beast that had once given life to her and her two brothers fade from this world. It caused great despair in her. She flew into rage, her divine light shining so bright it scorched the earth and boiled the seas.
Aion vowed to end the tyranny of death, and ensure no more of her children would ever die again. Aion then went into labour amd gave birth to the first divine beings that would not be touched by death, sharing in her essence: The first of the many false gods, many of whom still exist to date.
Aion watched proudly as immortal children carved out their own domains in the world, gaining many worshippers and leading entire empires. Even as their followers fell to the cycle, her children were timeless and could not be touched by death.
However, the balance had been upset. Aion kept giving life to more and more gods. This made the other gods’ jealous of one another, until a war sparked out between them, as they laid claim to more and more of the world’s finite worshippers and other resources.
These false gods wreaked battles of titanic proportions against one another and their followers, ravaging the world. Divine blood spilled from the aether and onto the world, giving rise to magic as the mortals know it.
Thus begun the age of the immortals, a time of tyranny and strife that left it’s marks all over the once prosperous world. For many cultures and religions, this is known as the first sundering, where the first great civilizations collapsed, consumed by the very gods they once worshipped, their lives left destitute.
Kektun wept at the state of the world and pleaded with Aion to stop, as the once beatiful land was now ravaged and broken by her god-children’s trampling. He pleaded with her to allow Arikura to cull the mad gods drunk with power, lest they consume the whole world.
Aion refused, and the two siblings began to fight.
Their battle shook the heavens. The fight shook the very fabric of reality, as each blow that landed on Aion made the sun flutter in brightness and bleed out bursts of flames that snaked across the sky, casting bright auroras across the whole world. In turn, the wounds of Kektun caused rifts to appear into the world where past, present and the future existed in one place at the same time, driving those caught in their paths mad at the horrors they witnessed
In the end however, with the help of the false gods, Aion overpowered Kektun and slew him. A mounrful dirge sounded from the god of time, as the balance they had crafted was shattered. His essence drifted away and scattered into the darkness, in the cold embrace of his brother, Arikura.
With the death of Kektun, Aion planned to grow the world into an immortal, lush garden of harmony, where none would ever perish again. But before she could do that, she had to find and finish off Arikura.
With righteous zeal in her eyes, Aion turned her burning gaze upon the world, and commanded her children to find Arikura. They set out like the fanning rays of the sun, scouring the world for the god of death.
But the god of death could not be found. No matter how much she shone her light upon the world, Aion couldn’t find Arikura. His shadows were always faster than her light, and his absence evaded her presence.
Eventually, Aion became convinced that Arikura was too afraid to challenge her, and seized the hunt. She returned to her creation, birthing life uncontrollably into the world with her god-children, and turning the world into an oasis of life.
For a brief while, life bloomed from the ashes of the first sundering. But this would not last. As the false gods bred uncontrollably, they soon exhausted all the resources of the world. When they ran out of sustenance, life begun to feed on life, and the gods turned their greedy eyes on one another.
The war of the divine saw the rise and consumption of entire pantheons. This is known as the second sundering in the lore of the world, where gods that could not die gnawed on eachothers flesh, consuming one another like pack of rats trapped in a bucket. It is said that fel magic was born in this chaos, as a twisted form of magic spawned from the consumption of life itself.
Horrified at what the world was turning into, Aion’s clarity came too late for her. She sought to defeat her children before they would consume all of existance, but there were so many of them, all drunk from the taste of divine flesh. Like a pack of wolves, Aion’s own children turned on their creator and began to tear her to pieces.
The very sun begun to dim in the sky, taking on a putrid, rust-red colour as Aion tried to fend off her rabid children. In her desperation, Aion cried out for her brother Arikura to save her.
And the darkness whispered in answer. Arikura offered to help his sister, but only if she submitted herself and all her creations to his rule. Aion refused, and continued her struggle.
As the battle wore on, Aion’s body was in tatters and in agonizing pain as the other gods consumed her divine body- And yet, she could not die.
Her screams joined the thousands of other lesser gods that had already been consumed, their hellish screams echoing across the aether. It is said that this agony and torment gave rise to demons and the hells themselves.
In the end, as the sun had all but winked out, Aion begged for death and submitted herself and her creations to Arikura. The god of death answered.
In an instant, he rushed from the darkness and absence of presence, tearing into the false gods like a scythe across a field, felling many and driving the others to flee. He cast down many into the earth, the seas and other planes below, mercilessly murdering all that got in his way.
But Arikura did not slay Aion. He knit the broken goddess of life together like a patchwork construct, and revealed his plans for her.
For the rest of time, Arikura would hang over her and the rest of creation as the silent executioner. Death could be tomorrow, in a year, or an eon, but he was inevitable: For mortals and gods alike.
Aion would be allowed to continue to spawn life, like raising lambs for slaughter. Aion wept and asked why Arikura didn’t just end it all there, as he had won the divine gamble.
Arikura explained that while souls of the dead sated his hunger, he had also grown very fond of other sustenance as well: Deaths with meaning. He had grown fond of the lives of mortals while hiding in the shadows and darkness feom his sister, and now preferred their noise over the silence of the grave.
Arikura does not care whether a life is lived long or short, good or bad. All he cares for is that life has a purpose. Like a great feast, Arikura wants to be sated not only for the sustenance the souls offer, but also their rich flavours from their experiences.
He does not care which gods his subjects keep to. He knows he could wink them out whenever he wishes, but chooses not to, so long as they and their followers amuse him.
Both genuine fear of death and welcoming one’s end are the greatest prayers one can offer to Arikura. He smiles at the spent and grins at the defiant. Meek or mighty, he welcomes all.
Arikura then left Aion, bidding her and the remaining false gods farewell. He disappeared into the shadows, always present wherever Aion’s light didn’t touch the world.
One day, Arikura would return to reap the world itself. For the only thing that was certain in life in Argent Dawnia, was death.