OOC|Discord
"That is not dead which can eternal lie.
And with strange aeons even death may die."
H.P. Lovecraft
Floating in what felt like a vast nothingness, a single thought resonated in the cosmos, a primordial soup, an unformed chaos, stretched outwards for eternity.
The thought wanted nothing to do with it.
Where was this place? Space and time melted into a dizzying mess, with no clear uniformity. Scared and alone, the thought refused to look around, dreaming of a place once called home. But what was home? Desperately, the thought tried to remember something, anything, about a world beyond this one. All it could recall were fragments, jagged pieces of memories created in a dead world.
And then, they became tangible.
Floating through the vastness, the thought sprung forth into existence, emerging from the primordial chaos not with a flash, but with a whisper. Four black, curious eyes opened to see a world littered with lights of teals and pinks, and trails of rocks and dust. Her long, white hair trailed behind her, as her black cloak flowed with nonexistent winds.
The being looked at her own hands, turning and examining them; long, spindly fingers, covered in smooth, grey-purple skin, and tipped with claw-like nails. She moved her fingers around, feeling the warmth of friction and the cooling of air moving past them. She was more than just alive: she was aware.
As she drifted past a collection of rocks and dust, a peculiar instinct came over her. Curious, she reached out towards the debris; as she focused her attention to it, the dust and rocks assimilated and combined, until they had formed a large, dark staff, tipped with a jagged purple crystal.
She held the staff in her hands, examining its intricasies. Power of a mystical kind flowed through the staff into her hands. Whatever broken world she left behind felt irrelevant; an unlimited future rested at her fingertips. Caught in the euphoria of being alive, she came to a sudden realization that maybe, just maybe, she was not the only being here in this primordial sea.
As she floated past yet another group of floating rocks, she felt that same, inexplicable urge as before. This time, she stabbed the staff into the ground, gem-side up.
Rocks and dust began to encircle the staff's base, forming a disc of sorts. The disc had its own gravity, albeit incredibly weak, which kept visitors grounded and gradually brought more rocks and dust together, gradually increasing the platform's size. Although she did not know it now, this would eventually become the foundation of her Realm.
The staff which had formed the base of the island has become a makeshift beacon, sending a high-energy beam of white light cutting through the cosmos. Surely, if anyone else was out there, they would be able to spot such an obvious landmark...