We saw the sliver of light cut through the heavens before he landed.
It was as if a knife had been carved through the night sky itself and when that arrow of light hit the great city of Kaan, it exploded in a silent shower of brilliance. It caused no destruction nor did it cause alarm, yet it was as if a wave of serenity emanated from it and it was this, which called to my people.
We staggered and stumbled, drawn by its power to the center of the city, simple farm folk most, like myself, who had never stepped foot within the hallowed streets and alleyways of the great Kaan. Yet, none could resist its call now as there, on the steps of the great cathedral, built to the great architect, Regal Kaan himself stood the figure of a man who had come from the stars.
Of course, he was more than simply a man. His skin shone like that of the waters surface, mercurial and luminous, his torso draped in the finery of some unseen priesthood, the hem written in arcane letters. He glowed, like a star made flesh and when he spoke, it resonated, as if reaching to the furthest reaches of our world and into the deepest recesses of our souls.
“The universe is without emotion.” He began, his arms outstretched to the crowd before him, “It does not care to feel.”
“In its myriad and infinite glory, it has no time to wonder on the existence of those that it has created, does not have time to witness their minor miracles, their tiny feats when it has the very task of creation itself at hand. Life, in all its myriad concepts is nothing but the residue of its design. Driven by an endless appetite to propagate itself, the universe is an unconquered army, its reach stretching to the infinite and its desire pushing it ever onward. Yet, it is not without awareness and sometimes, in looking back, it is conscious of a need to provide for those it has sired and for those it has left behind.”
He spoke of us, the forgotten people of the wastelands; the farmers, the tillers and herdsmen who fought daily against famine and soul crushing labour. Learre, my wife and life mate held tight to my hand as he spoke, tears welling in both our eyes as this strangers words cut us deep.
“Devoid of emotion itself, the universe created great monoliths of power to stand as connections between life and its creator. Conduits for experience, objects of compassion, fear and understanding.
That is why it created the Gods.”
The Pious, the exalted leaders of the Church of Kaan mumbled and muttered to themselves loudly, their sensibilities and faith attacked by the appearance of this interloper. Yet not one raised a word in objection, caught as they were in the power of his words.
“Perhaps, these Gods were ultimately the creation of a careless parent looking to provide for its children whilst in absence. Yet these great and mighty Gods traversed the cosmos, their powers dwarfing the imagination of the life forms they found, whilst in turn being dwarfed themselves by the omnipotent power that sent them forth.
They have been given names over time, these Gods, christened by the children they found snapping at their heels.
Eternity. Death. Infinity. Oblivion.
Like using a candle to try and define the sun, these are but some of the names created to describe these deities, these titans.
Yet… there was one who defied description. “
As he spoke these words, the silver stranger rose before us, the light emanating ever brighter as he lifted his very form into the sky before us. An angel of light, I held Learre close to me, fearing that the very light itself would burn us into shadow. Yet, it did not and his words continued, satiating the soul and bringing all in its presence back to him and his sermon.
“Legend grew of this most elusive of Gods, whispers speaking of how the other titans feared Him, of how even the sentient soul of the universe itself trembled at His very mention. Life forms across the breadth of this universe spoke in hushed whispers of His terrible wrath, whilst exalting His divine benevolence. A truly caring God, capable of terrible anger, creator of sublime love. So few have truly seen Him, yet all have felt Him. In the trembling of hands held to the sky in repentance, in the singing of odes to the almighty saviour and in the telling of tales, both reverential and damning of all that is cast before Him.”
And then he reached out his hand, his finger pointed into the crowd and in that moment it felt as if he gestured to me and me alone. Later we would find that every being, every person in the crowd felt that very sensation, of a voice, a motion calling to only them. Yet at the time I knew… the words he spoke were to me and me alone.
“You have felt His presence as you toiled, laboured to pull life from dead soil. You have felt His love in moments of despair and hoped for Him to reveal himself. I know of such things. I know of your struggles. I know of your pain.
And I am here to relieve you of your burdens.”
The spell had been cast. Whatever influence he had spread with his words were now etched into our very beings. Powerless, we stood, such simple people before such divinity and in that moment of closing our eyes and raising our hands to him, we gave ourselves over completely and absolutely.
“I am the creator of hope
I am the prophet of the great titan.
I am His herald.
And I bring salvation to you all.”
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