The Realm of Power: A Time Before Time

There weren't always dragons in the valley. Nor in the sky, sea, mountains, plains, or the Realm of Rhyonis to begin with. In truth, in the whole History of Rhyonis, the dragons, fierce and mighty as they are and have always been, were an afterthought. Yes, as laughable as the concept may seem, a Rhyonis with dragons was never part of the original intention of the realm. It was initially an escape.

It's common knowledge today, the standard Creation Myth of the realm; five beings of great power departed from one realm to create one of their own design. While that much is true on the surface, it is the tale that led to the flight of the Creation Gods from their home to begin with that truly set the foundation for all the realm would become.

The Creation Gods; St. Nihaan Father of Light and Love, Siesmet Mother of Nature and Life, Kyah the Rider of Wind and Waves, Alaxendaria, the Grey Lady of Death, and Malirica, the Time Architect, all came from a realm known simply as Power. The Realm of Power was a tumultuous place that continuously produced beings of deific ability from nothing. Every moment, a new god was born from the carnage that surrounded them. Beings would rise, be slaughtered, rise again, slaughter themselves, then be erased permanently in a vicious cycle that went on for no one knew how long. There was no history, no record, no order, no sense in Power, just Madness.

Power was tearing itself apart from its sheer nature; it was an unstable vacuum that produced without reason until nothing would remain. By whatever divine force willed them into existence, the Creation Gods came to Power together, as one, a collective of five great forces that fought against the singular entities lashing out for survival within Power. Call it Fate, Luck, Chance, Serendipity, the Creation Gods of Rhyonis stood the tests before them and managed to subdue the other addled gods, quite literally fighting for their lives.

Their victory was short-lived, the five would-be saviors of this realm would only come to witness its destruction. All around them, the very fabric of existence had become untethered, frayed by the intensity and raw power of the many slumbering gods at peace, asleep and able to have dreams for the first time, or nightmares. Even asleep, the conquered gods could not escape the Madness of Power. Madness itself was at war with the peace of slumber, a caged beast rattling behind the bars of unconsciousness as nightmares. Their dreams burned to the cindering ashes of their memories as, in their rest, they were forced to endure their torment.

This Madness consumed them, breaking from the confines of the gods' consciousnesses and overtaking them to retaliate against Its captors; The Creation Gods. One by one, Seeds of Madness blossomed within the Sleeping Gods. It was terrifying, haunting, yet beautiful in Its transformative ability. Madness and Chaos unfurled like thick fungal petals, bursting from their skulls to produce a cap of flailing, consuming tendrils. Five stood against a mad myriad of might once more. Countless beings of untold power, amplified by the enraged and free Madness that threatened and proceeded to, devour everything in its wake, even the Sleeping Gods themselves.

In mere moments, darkness surrounded and closed in on them. All that remained of Power was screaming voids of black lightlessness that shifted only to lash out and darken more space with each swipe. A rolling and devouring fog was just about to erase them all, snuffing out all the potential that came from Power with a fading, screaming whisper.

When all hope seemed lost, they, the Creation Gods of Rhyonis, stood together, hands clasped, a family brought together out of the necessity of circumstance. Accepting their fate, content in that it ends together, they looked upon one another, backed by living, roiling darkness. Grasps firm, breath bated, and lungs clenched, they braced themselves to be overtaken, but as the cooling black licked across their radiant forms, the gods felt themselves slipping, not into it, but away from it.

Afraid to chance a peak or lose their grasp on all they knew remained, each other, they withstood and allowed the tide to overtake them. All five of them gasped and inhaled the air, full of thick inky currents, all that remained of Power apart from themselves. It was a strange calm, serene even when they succumbed to the turbulence. Opposing the lashing violence its exterior presented, the turned inside-out remains of Power were a steady, calm flow.

It was quiet; the dark void of Madness Power made way for in its destruction. Chaos was splayed all around them, The Creation Gods looking on in a muted vacuum of silently screaming visages. Air pressed against them, strong as tidal waves, as a warm light grew between them, swelling to encompass them in a golden bubble. At once with the bubble's appearance, the drifting faces of fallen gods whirred to a violent volition, battering themselves against the glowing sphere of light.

Everything folded around them, angularly distorting the space beyond the bubble of the Creation Gods. It was St. Nihaan, the Father of Light and Love, that held back the darkness of Madness, ravenously battering against the barrier He projected. From His very core, this beacon of warmth and light illuminated the cold and dark world that was their creator. He looked upon His companions, the other four remaining fragments of Power, and smiled, knowing that He was with His family, and despite not knowing where they were headed, it would be home.

Through the prism-like lens of St. Nihaan's light, the Creation Gods witnessed the implosion of all that remained of Power. It was more violent than the carnage that lead to Its destruction. Despite being insulated by the barrier, the untethering fetters of reality produced a devastating blast that echoed for eons. Power roared in defiance, refusing to die even in death, determined to eradicate Its final remnants alongside It. Yet, He held out, pouring everything He was into maintaining His Blazing Beacon, Balasar, the single drop of light in a whirlpool of emptiness.

The other Creation Gods watched in wonder as their defender ushered them into a new world. For as vicious as the implosion of Power was, the emergence into this new space was just as peaceful, serene, and seamless as Time. An exhausted St. Nihaan collapsed, held aloft in the swirling vastness of an endless palette of deep purples, smokey greys, and specks of black, blacker than black, by His companions.

Collectively, the four conscious creators whispered, Rhyonis, looking upon St. Nihaan. They knew this word to mean "father" and also knew no title more fitting for the entity that would become known as the God of Light, Love, and that most fierce of all loves, Familial Devotion. This phrase breathed a magic into existence, apart from all of them, that would expand to seal the exterior of the realm so nothing could escape to, or from, the Realm of Power and those that may lie beyond.

His bubble, Balasar, moved away from the Creation Gods as they held St. Nihaan. It soared through this colorful expanse to come to rest and itself expanded a great distance away. As it did, they set to work, ensuring that when He awoke, the Father of Creation would truly have a place to call home, a realm they would name for Him; Rhyonis.

From then on, Malirica weaving the elaborate web of the Fixed Moment Timeline, the blueprint for which the realm would follow, the Creation Gods set out to make Rhyonis a land that would never know the Madness that destroyed Power. St. Nihaan would shortly awaken and lend His power to Lady Siesmet, the Mother of Nature and Life, Goddess of Creation. Together, they brought in a land for which beings would walk, explore, and call home. They planted a singular seed forged from their essence within the land that would grow into a massive tree representing the emergence of a new world.

He, the tree, would come to be known as Rhyonis, the Spring Tree of Life, Father of the Realm. His trunk, glowing, massive, and pristine and green as cut emeralds, towered thousands of feet above the land, spreading golden leafed branches. These leaves waved to the sky, beckoning the favor of the soaring Rider of Wind and Waves, Kyah, sweating torrential rains over the otherwise dry landscape.

From Rhyonis' roots, a powerful force called Life Essence pulsed like blood within the soil and, from it, emerged wondrous beings that took flight, filling valleys, sky, sea, mountains, and plains; the dragons. As it was mentioned earlier, dragons weren't always a part of the plan for Rhyonis. The Creation Gods bore witness to these creatures that reflected visions of beings from their memories of Power, and pondered the implications for a future in the wake of echoes from a harrowing past.

As the dragons proved to be destructive in their own right, capable of elemental and magical wonders, the Creation Gods monitored the Tree of Life Rhyonis, ensuring no more beings as powerful as the first dragons were produced from the center of Life Essence, the land around Rhyonis referred to as the Life Glade.

History played out, as Malirica wrote into the Timeline, with strange occurences that didn't entirely line up with the original plans. There were pieces of interference that seemed to come into Rhyonis' Timeline at unpredicted intervals and They studied them, relentlessly. They would sequester Themselves and obsess over these discrepancies as the other Creation Gods tended to the realm, or ignored it entirely in the case of Kyah.

While the rest of the creators of the realm were overseeing its operation, overthinking idiosyncracies of Time, or exploring a world they didn't care about, Alaxendaria silently observed. She, the Grey Lady, is a quiet and wise Goddess that survived Power without a single movement. By Her nature, She just watched as life began and ended around Her, and it fascinated Her. Death was rampant and frequent in Power, but in Rhyonis, beings truly lived. First, the dragons with their might and flight, then the First People given Sentience by a dragon She met once, in spite of the design of the Creation Gods.

Alaxendaria found this new place so curious and collected the tiny shreds of Life Essence that escaped a being after its death. Their soul. Souls were unique, within and to Rhyonis, and Alaxendaria saw to collecting them; a massive grey flame drawing in spirits like drifting moths.

For some time, each of the Creation Gods were so enamored with their own pursuits, that none of them paid mind to the oddities and parallels between Rhyonis and Power, save for Malirica. These Echoes of Power were popping up like weeds within the garden of Rhyonis after the first wonder of the dragons. Those weeds would spread from insidious seeds in the foundation of the realm, subconsciously planted recollections from the gods' memories.

St. Nihaan conjectured that these inconsistencies Malrica spoke of may have some merit. Tirelessly He worked to maintain balance and promote light within Rhyonis, but the gnawing whispers of doubt lingered on the periphery of His thoughts. If there were Echoes of Power, seeds of darkness emerging around the realm, surely they had a source, and surely that source was from Power itself. Disturbing as it was apparent, the only remnants of Power were them, the Creation Gods.

St. Nihaan, Father of Light, Love, and Familial Devotion, the shepherd that brought the Creation Gods to Rhyonis to begin with, proposed they left it for its well being. It was a mixture of reactions when the idea was initially posed. Siesmet resisted, but would eventually comply when She realized Her refusal caused unrest within the realm She wished to protect. The Mother of Nature and Life would retaliate and send tectonic shifts across the realm. With a heavy heart, She would submit and allow Herself to slip into the first Domain Realm, a pocket dimension within Rhyonis to house the Remnants of Power within the Creation Gods, apart from Rhyonis.

Afterwards, one by one, by their choice or not, the remaining Creation Gods would find new homes of their own within these Domain Realms. Alaxendaria, the Grey Lady, Collecter of Souls, had amassed more of these wispy essences than She could contain within the pouch She stored them in. Ever methodical and tactful, She had already planned on creating a new space for these souls; a Domain Realm She would call the Grey-Lit Path.

Kyah had no choice in the matter of leaving Rhyonis. The plentiful rainfalls He wrought with His flight brought rivers, lakes, and streams that sustain life across the vibrant realm of Rhyonis today. This is hardly the intention of the Rougish Rider of Wind and Waves as He explored with reckless abandon and break-neck speed. His sweat is corrosive and His jetstreams caused violent storms to batter the shores of the scattered lands of Rhyonis. Thankfully, due to the Life Essence Lady Siesmet and the Trees of Life produce, the acidic nature of Kyah’s waters is neutralized upon touching the soil. From which, it is ultimately cleansed by St. Nihaan’s light from within Balasar. This creates the water cycle of Rhyonis that sustains the need for water, but were it not for the efforts of the other Creation Gods, Kyah would have done untold damage, regardless of the Echoes of Power.

Ultimately, for the betterment of the realm, St. Nihaan had no choice but to trick His son, telling Him they would be departing this realm for another adventure. Eager and willing, Kyah dove into the deepest recess of Rhyonis' ocean, the Continental Sea, and was consequently sealed within His Domain Realm. Here, He rages and attempts to tear the realm apart to free Himself from His inescapable prison; the Abyssal Trench.

Lastly, Malirica, the Time Architect, paranoid and obsessed with Their Timeline, was beginning to lose Their clarity and focus. When St. Nihaan approached Them, They were so tired, ready for rest, that letting go came as a relief. They were a collective consciousness across a great many minds and personas throughout the Timeline of Rhyonis. They existed within Their disciples, regardless of physical or conscious identity, dispersing Themselves across beings that walked days and beings that walked nights. They would come to witness all of Rhyonis through the many eyes of Dusk and Dawn, and awaited St. Nihaan's proposal, having seen all Their family's presence has wrought upon the world.

When they met, the final Creation Gods remaining physically within the realm they created, St. Nihaan looked upon a small frail girl, ravaged by anxiety and the uncertainty of the unforeseen. Malirica's personification of Day, Dawn was beautiful and radiant, but fading into a dismal twilight state. St. Nihaan would take Her in His hands and steal the light of an entire day, folding it into a tear in reality where Dawn would meld into Dusk.

Dusk, Malirica's personification of Night, looked upon St. Nihaan, brooding and knowing, cross-armed and coated in iration. He had known something was amiss all along, from the moment the dragons emerged, it was the ponderous nature of Night to question. Not until it was too late did St. Nihaan listen and now, as He shed a tear and sealed away the last of His children, He realized He was out of Time.

A new day broke after the night St. Nihaan cast to create Malirica's Domain Realm, Miracle. As it did, shards of solid light clattered into the waters of the Continental Sea alongside St. Nihaan's tears. Prismatic precipitation scattered, glistening kaleidoscopic rays of light in their descent, and St. Nihaan looked upon the realm one last time. It was an incredible thing, Rhyonis, and His family had made it, though they now lie sealed across this home they made for themselves. As tragic as the reality was, the wonder of Life cast out the sadness and He knew that, with this sacrifice, Rhyonis would continue to grow with their supervision, but had to do so without their influence, lest the Madness of Power truly return.

To this day, Rhyonis struggles to fight back the darkness the Creation Gods brought with them, now that they rest within their Domain Realms. Even without their presence, unspeakable horrors have stained the Fixed Moment Timeline. A languid history of misfortunate has befallen the realm, and many Rhyonians have lost faith in their creators. Some even wonder, as they fear the uncertainty of an unpromised tomorrow, have the gods left the realm for its safety, or theirs?

What is Madness if not Nightmares given consciousness? And if this is true, what could be done if the Nightmares of gods were awakened?

Want to know what happens to Rhyonis? Click here to read Session One: A Rhyonis World History for Season One, World History, of Rhyonis; a Realm, a Rift!

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