THE DIVINE SCRIPTFinding the other substances available to be too temperamental for the fine, precise work of watchmaking, they take the pure potential and fashion a Mechanism to sit outside of space, yet linked to it. At the center of this Mechanism is a control room of sorts, from which necessary adjustments may be made by god or mortal.
The use of pure potential, a substance from the earliest stages of creation, leads to the creation of a great and fundamental part of the world. Ethereal gears and chains are stretched sideways to space, forming a monolith of whirring metal crouched upon the heavens, and culminating in an intricately crafted hall of metal levers, switches and wheels. An extension of the original Orrery, the Mechanism dictates the workings of the skies, the spinning of the planets and the paths of the stars.
The size and grandeur of the watchmaker's first creation is such that its motion can only be altered within strict limits - to make great changes in the motion of the cosmos or cease it entirely would require a great deal of sophistication and understanding, even from within the control room. A handful of elevators descend into the physical realm, but the hall is otherwise inacessible from conventional space.
The desire is taken, enflamed into a wonder of mountains and volcanos, endless growths of rock-plant life adorning the sides. Bursts of starlight slam down like stakes, dragging these pieces into the firmament of the realms.
The desire emitted by the red stars is a strange and difficult material to work. Enflaming the raw stellar emotion into bursts of heat and lava, towering mountains and stony growths bursting from the nearby planets, the worldwright creates a ceaseless source of fire and life. The corrupting influence of the original material becomes apparent, however, as the molten rock shapes itself into grasping hands and mouths, reaching out across the skies with insatiable hunger, an awful and single-minded intent.
The spreading scourge is halted, however, as a series of detonations from within the blue star hurl lances of splendid cosmic light into the burning substance, impaling the volcanoes and pinning them down to the terrestrial bodies they sprang from. Great pillars of blue starlight stand across the writhing masses of fiery mineral life, holding them fast to a dozen worlds.
The effort of working multiple materials to contains its own creation tires the worldwright - it will struggle to produce a powerful or fundamental part of the world during the next stage of creation.
There will be 10'000 layered spaces just outside regular space, (not including spaces manufactured by other creators)
These layers will exist upon, and to an extent bridge the gap between, the 13 objects of both minor and major celestial importance, maintaining a life viable space within themselves, functioning as an "airlock" between these objects in cases where they are spread across them in an otherwise non-viable way(IE connecting planet to star).
These layers will be manufactured out of Mist, and made adjustable such that they can be used for most purposes that are not, in essence- being a "waste dump".
The material produced by the Unseen does not lend itself easily to description or bureaucracy. Nonetheless, directives are followed, mandates are given and arrangements are made, until the mist is formed into ten thousand layers or realms, connecting and dividing the space between the celestial bodies of the central system. Concentric rings of hidden space surround the great blue star and the masses that orbit it, a pattern of cool and empty zones not as inimical to life as the void between the stars.
The ten thousand layers of mist are an obscure and hidden part of the world - difficult to percieve or access from within conventional space, and most closely linked to things dwelling in and emanating from the Unseen.
The Ragged One carves gaps in the flow of sparks. The lights that it does not smother will form glyphs, and those glyphs will comprise a language, and that language will bristle with divine lightning.
The endless streams of sparks emitted from the workings of the great Orrery are divided into an incandescent script, each letter shining and minutely detailed, gliding among the constellations in terrible and brilliant lines. Some are imbued with meaning, describing the things of the world with such truth and immediacy to summon them merely at their utterance. Others crackle and hum with imperative force, capable of unleashing preposterous discharges of divine energy through devastating thunderbolts. The sentences wind throughout the skies and the planets, only the Unseen escaping their relentless presence.
Beings capable of writing or speaking such a language would indeed wield immense creative and destructive power - enough, perhaps, to confer godhood upon them.
Sparks fly between the mist and the light as the secret words of love poetry older than the dawn of time condense all three into the waters of heaven, a glistening blue vault that engulfs and romances every habitable world, spilling onto them the waters of life and seeding them with star-spawn.
Attempting to use so many substances at once is uncommon at this stage of creation. In their rushing to and fro to gather the chosen ingredients, the worldwright finds that others have taken the bulk of the material first, leaving amounts too small for the business of making a world. Only the great blue star at the centre of the cosmos provides a sufficient basis for their art.
The light emanating from the blue star is a fine and easily worked material, and there is easily enough to create the celestial waters. An ocean of stellar light, traversing the cosmos to wash over the planets and seeding the worlds with the beginnings of life. The tiny organisms are scattered across many planets, but thrive especially in the wet worlds in the central system and on the small, sea-covered spheres at the periphery of things, bringing light to the ocean depths.
The Work
A vast clockwork Orrery underpins the great whirling cosmos, controlled by an external Mechanism. Countless spheres of diverse metals and star-stuff perform an intricate dance all across the heavens, while the divine script winds between the planets and stars, shining letters crackling with power.
A huge blue sun rotates near the centre of the cosmos, orbited by a collection of solar bodies, the whole connected by ten thousand layers of mist located outside of conventional space. A little further out, a red constellation of stars emit a deep and insatiable yearning. The nearby planets glow with heat, lava bursting forth from mountain ranges of living stone, countless limbs and mouths of molten rock reaching out with awful hunger, held back only by tremendous stakes of blue starlight.
The celestial waters wash indiscriminately over the many planets, traversing the universe in splendid clouds of light. At the periphery of things, small worlds spin gently beneath dark oceans, waves rolling across their smooth surfaces, while the microscopic beginnings of life grow in the depths. Finally, on the outer reaches of creation roams the Unseen, an unknowable part of the world, shrouded in impenetrable mist.
As glyphs of the divine language scatter, dance and recombine, thunderbolts snake through the skies, leaving trails of fire. The interlocking cogs of the Orrery have been ground to perfect smoothness over millenia, no longer sparking but leaving a fine dust of metal floating through the heavens. Two marvellous substances have been created in abundance: microscopic sea life in the depths of ocean worlds, and a simple cosmic beat as the ethereal metals of the Mechanism resonate and sing behind the skies. Lastly, an awkward material, difficult to work, living molten rock bleeds from the wounds in the volcanic mountains impaled on spears of blue sunlight.
It is now time to create the first beings to inhabit this universe. Such creatures may become gods, mortals, or mere animals, or perhaps take on a stranger role in the world. Care must be taken to place them in the right part of the Work, as there are already many places inhospitable to life.
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Topic: The Work - Life Itself (Read 2302 times)