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  • In a time so far gone that there were not even any stars in the sky, there were two kingdoms. It is often the way, in these sorts of stories.
    Now, between these two kingdoms there existed a state of seemingly incessant war. The true names of these peoples, the reasons for their war and much of their history has long since been forgotten. We call them in our tales of good and evil An, and Un. Some would have it that An, whose Lord was the Abysmal Depth, wanted to consume Un, for Un was the only place where life through nature would propagate. Others tell it that Un was a callously rebellious nation, who had shrugged off the embrace of the Abysmal Depth, who was its benevolent creator and master. They say there was a sorcerer and his wife who ruled Un, that they had bewitched those that served them. They sought to consume An, to posses it’s masters immortality.
    In reality, neither Un nor An were either good or evil. Nor did life propagate in Un, nor is the master of An immortal.
    The truths of the story are this…


    Once upon a time ago, in a place called Chaos, there was life. There was no ground beneath it, nor any stars above it. Chaos came before anything else, and it is because of Chaos that the universe began.
    The life in Chaos possessed no form you might imagine, though it felt love and jealousy, kinship and bitterness. Of note, three beings dwelt there. Coalesced existence, there were; potent, huge. They were swirling maelstroms, hurricanes of emotion and knowledge. These three, then. These are where it begins. One loved one, who loved another, who loved it back. Jealousy is sparked, happiness is broken. Evil is born. The two who loved one another are tricked; one is made knowledgeable of mortality, and so risks dying. The other must feed it life, which it harvests from the chaos all around.

    Chaos shrivels, it grows small; an oasis, a puddle, a thimble of a place. Soon only the three are left.
    The outcome is inevitable. The one that has become Death will feed the other to its dying lover. And then it will sacrifice itself. And then, nothing. Everything ends when all life has been consumed.
    The one that cursed these two; Death and the Dying, became, in an attempt to prolong itself, the universe. Death must harvest it; all the stars and the planets, all the matter and the entropy. Even us, a little at a time.
    So yes, and may it bring you much comfort to know, that we are here for a reason. To vainly try and stopper shut with our multidinous endings, the gaping maw of Death itself.
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