"May the gods watch over your battles, and your children should you fall."

- Common soldier prayer

"If you fall may the gods above grant you refuge in their hall."

- Common soldier prayer

"The gods are unfathomable. How they make their choices in their infinite wisdom is enviable."

- Unknown

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They stood around the white table from nowhere. White covered all in this nothing of nowhere. They were silent, for they had no way to share words. They were formless. Then they took a seat.

White became stone. White became thrones. White became all. Dark colored parts. Reds and blues came existent, though they had no name then. They without form became defined. Some had two legs, others six, one even had none. They represented things of various types. Then time seeped in. They felt it at first, strange. They were uncertain what it was. They knew, instinctually, however, what it was and its purpose. Then, they came to know their purpose. They opened their thoughts to that which was beyond nowhere, the somewhere. They saw the first thing in that somewhere and slowly nurtured it. They knew. They understood.

Slowly that thing became more things, then many things. Soon an abundant number of things lived somewhere there. They enjoyed their work with the things. They devoted themselves to help those things, and those things, in turn, devoted themselves. The things gave them names to call their own, and they relished it. Olgarth, Matik, Velorau, Hastia, Coampsa, Destruith, Zenitr, and Krosa. They watched the things grow, and become part of the somewhere in the end. It saddened them to see some of the things go. They remembered some of their names. Lurmunthur, Marzd De Deven, Eldenbrith, and Crasxis Crotumoim were of the many they reveled in the memory of. They made paintings of them in their hall, their souls brought to wander around. They saw the end of dynasty's, they saw the extinction of species. They saw land masses rise and fall in the ocean, they saw knowledge lost by the things. They saw beauty and wonder, and for eternity they each felt a longing to leave the nowhere and go to the somewhere, alas it was likely to never be, and they knew that. They gave gifts to various things. Gave measures to help them not forget. Gave them ways to defend themselves and provide comfort. They watched in their eternal curiosity.

Time passed by ages. They saw the kingdoms of big things sink into the depths, cutting off other things from one another, and slowly those things forgot each other. They saw a thing reach the pinnacle and vanish, not even they could find the thing. They watched a something leave its place and become something more. They saw a thing nearly as old as they return once more. They watched and listened. Aiding as best they could. Olgarth especially invested in certain things form.

They wanted to see what it would become, for not even they could see beyond the veil of time. It needed more aid. Thus they pulled the strings of fate, connecting things across the realm. They connected it with the tool to bind them to its aid. It already had lost much it had and gained even more. They watched it begin to become. They saw it gain instinct and curiosity. It needed more, however. Much, much more indeed. They saw a certain soul float in that which is after, for it already held a fine yet small thread to it. They bound it by a chain, refusing to let it fade and pulled it back and sent it on its way to it. Those they connected needed tools, especially that one. It needed to escape and find that which it is destined to wield. They reached out to the things destined and gave them the ability to be a thing. The newly made things were confused, but understanding in their duty and those things would wait for that thing to come.

They watched and waited, listening to the words shared to them by the things, unable to return in kind their own. They answered some words with actions. A nudge, a breeze, a gift. They did all within their power for such was their purpose. Such is their duty.

Eventually, they knew, The reds and blues would fade. Their thrones and the stone would return to white, that they would be the ones to fade. They knew the only thing to remain would be the table, yet it would be their place to sit no longer. No, it would the they after themselves's seats. It would be the they after themselves's thrones and stones. It would no longer be their duty or privilege. No longer would they be able to watch over and aid. In a remote part of themselves, this saddened them, but it was inevitable.

They would not be able to see what comes beyond. They would not be able to go to the somewhere. Forever they would be trapped in the nowhere, yet they were content. For they saw the souls of those named many. They saw things happen in the somewhere. They saw the first thing become the many. The saw and part of them wept in silent joy on occasion as time made its mark. Already cracks in the table had appeared after all this time. While time was eternal, they knew how close the end of theirs was.

Yet they continued to aid. To watch and listen. They understood and continued to give their gifts and omens. They continued their duty, their purpose. Because that's just the way it is meant to be. And they were pleased with it. However, even they could see what was to come, even when blinded by the veil of time. They worried, though did not pray. After all, who would they pray to? They hoped for the success of those things, their duty fulfilled. They hoped their path would be one they did not stray. They hoped they would be witnesses to its end.

Thus was their hope. The first hope they had in a long time. Not a hope for themselves, but a hope to simply hope, though in truth they had no need of such things.

Very curious, for beings beyond comprehension that is.