Glavas still remembered when he heard the story for the first time. It was the oldest tale of them all. Although Ezma's four major species were as different as they could when it came to customs, history, and mythology, there was a story they all shared - the creation of the world. Due to each civilization having written the same legend long before they even knew of each other's existence, it was presumed to be true, down to the last word.

The night in Elkif was particularly cold, signalling the coming of yet another harsh winter. Glintwood gently placed another chunk of wood into the makeshift fireplace, trying his best not to break it. For months now, it was just a single push away from collapsing. Nevertheless, the old elf cared for it like it was his second child. Far too many people were freezing in the winters due to heating problems. Their homes were often simple piles of junk that held on only by the means of gravity and luck and therefore offered little protection from the elements. Glint sighed. Thanks to his skills as a builder and his wife's knowledge of woodworking, their little cottage was probably the most well-built in this part of the Unode district.

Sounds of falling metal could be heard, briefly overshadowing the howling wind.

"Damn, another one." Sina clenched her fist as she looked out of the window.

"There's always some buildings that crumble each winter. Can you see whose was it?" Glint asked

"No, it's probably further south. They have a public shelter there, right?"

"Yeah, in some cellar."

"Then they should be alright."

"Alright, but not warm."

"Warmth is a luxury. Our neighbours will surely be stopping by our place this winter. We cannot take in any more of them. This place is tiny." She spoke as if she already knew what her husband was thinking.

"Yeah, I know. I just wish we could help somehow. There has to be something to–"

Someone knocked on the door, interrupting him.

"Ah, see, neighbours," Sina said and went to let them in. "Hello. Is your– Glavie!" she gasped when she saw her own son standing in the doorway, along with his friend. "What happened?!" She noticed right away that something was wrong. Glavas was leaning against Sizzy, his arm wrapped around her shoulder as she supported him. The right leg of his trousers was torn up and stained with blood. Tears were flowing down his face, accompanied by faint, barely audible sobbing.

"I- I think I broke my leg," Glavas muttered.

"No, he did not!" Sizzy interrupted and rolled her eyes. "You just got scratched. You'll be fine!"

Glavas, however, did not seem to listen to her. Sina went and picked the little boy up, taking him inside, while inviting Sizzy to join them.

"What happened?!" Glint ran up to them.

"He got hurt during a hunt. A Tourg hit him with its claws. I told him it was fine, but he wouldn't stop screaming and wanted to go home, instead of the hunter's lodge, so I took him here," Sizzy explained.

Now it all made at least some sense. Their son was spending most of his days and nights with the other hunters as their apprentice, so seeing him at their doorstep unannounced on a workday was rather unexpected.

"Yeah, we'll have to clean that up," Sina said as she rolled up the trousers and looked at the wound.

"I'll go get some warm water. Sizzy, can you help him to the bedroom?" Glint added.

"Oh yeah, sure, not like I already hauled him all the way here on my back and then had to beg him to at least try walking part of the way on his own." She rolled her eyes. "But yeah, I'll get him there. Come on, Glavie. Let's get you to bed." The boy did not protest and limped to his room by her side.

"Does it still hurt?" Sizzy asked a few minutes later, looking at his freshly-bandaged leg.

"A little," the boy mumbled, another tear sliding down his face.

"Little is better than a lot. So why are you still crying?"

"You would too!" he retaliated.

"No, I wouldn't. See this?" She rolled up her sleeve, showing off a scar on her elbow. "Not a single tear. Sure, I screamed a bit, but didn't cry."

"And that's a difference?"

"A big difference! Scream is like a warcry, you know?"

"A warcry? For pain?"

"Yeah! You gotta lean into it, you know. Let that horrible feeling make you angry, pump you up, and get that adrenaline going. Helps with the pain and makes your senses sharper."

"I... I don't think I can do that."

"Sure you can! You just need some practice! And some caution as well. Every injury is like a lesson on what to not do next time."

The boy didn't say a word. He only looked down at his wound, thinking about what she had told him and pondering whether the life of a hunter was one he really wanted to pursue.

"Well, I better get going. I heard the wind picking up and I don't want to freeze to death on my way back," Sizzy said and stood up from the bed.

"Wait!" Glavas stopped her.

"Hmm?" She turned around but he couldn't push himself to ask his question. He pulled his legs up onto the bed and hugged his knees, pressing them to his chest.

Sizzy sighed. "Would you like me to stay for the night?"

The boy nodded.

"Heh, sure, you wimp." She smiled and sat down next to him. "Hey, I can tell some spooky stories I heard from the hunters."

"No!"

"Hahaha, just kidding, I know you don't like them."

"No, I like stories. Even the scary ones, sometimes. Just..."

"Just not tonight?"

"Yeah..."

"Hmm... And how about something a bit more cheerful?"

"You know any cheerful ones?" He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. As far as his memory reached, she never told a single story that wouldn't involve blood, death, or dismemberment.

"Well... not really cheerful, but I know the good old classics. The First Extinguishing, the legend of the goddesses' return, the creation of the world, you know, the basic stuff."

"You know how the world was made?"

"Yeah, you don't? That's like the most well-known story. Everyone knows that!"

"I don't think I know that one."

"Hehe, then you better be ready for a treat!" She turned around on the bed, crossing her legs. Glavas carefully moved his injured limb to a more comfortable position and wrapped himself in a blanket. His eyes rested on his friend, ready to listen to what she had to say, just like she did countless times before at the lodge.

Eigam was the earth they trod. Eigam was the air they breathed. Eigam was the nature that surrounded them. All that was was Eigam - the goddess of magic. The ever-present energy that bound everything and everyone. This was a time before the sky got its name and before oceans were filled with water. It was the time when all the living things differed, no two being the same. Race and species were words to be yet invented. It was the age of uniqueness.

This era lasted longer than anyone can imagine, for there was no day nor night to count. There was no death to label the generations. In fact, there were no generations at all. Things simply were. Existence in its absolute purity.

But some children of Eigam felt lonely. Living connected to everything, yet separated from anything you might call kin is a cruel fate. And so they bonded together. Four beings, who just so happened to inhabit the lands next to each other, have once sworn an oath - they would never be separated again. They would never be alone. Their lives would be entwined for all the future. This pact they sealed by blood. Through this exchange, they believed themselves to be equal - the first siblings.

Eigam saw everything. Her eyes were in every tree, every blade of grass, and carried on every blow of the wind. She saw the four siblings bond and grow. What one had learned, they quickly passed on to another. Food that was gathered would always be split in four and none of them would ever go hungry. Eigam felt intrigued. She liked this idea. They were connected far more than any other of her children. This unity was something she craved.

At one point in the not-yet-existing time, a fifth creature roamed into the lands of the siblings. They welcomed this new potential brother with open arms. He thanked them with cruelty. The vagrant injured the youngest sibling and should death exist, it would break this family apart.

The others were enraged. They threw themselves at the intruder and tore them to pieces. Each piece would then be burned and charred beyond repair and buried deep underground, far away from the other parts, to make sure the intruder would never return. And so death was born. Although different from what it is now, its existence started at that very moment. The urge to remove something from life had birthed death.

Eigam pitied the siblings. She wanted to preserve the uniqueness of their existence. What they have done to the intruder, an intruder could do to them. That must've been prevented. The beloved children must've been protected. And so Eigam spoke for the first time since the dawn of creation.

The voice travelled far but only reached the ears of those she wanted - the four siblings. It urged them to travel. To abandon their homelands and set off on a journey too long to perceive. Yet they listened. The sound of their mother's voice lured them far from the safety of their home and through lands so wild and unique that their eyes had to gaze at the emptiness above them to rest from all that looking around. And thus the sky was born. A big nothing above them that never changed. A constant. A land of weary and tired eyes.

The siblings travelled long and far until they reached a large tree. Underneath it stood a white pedestal with a marble bowl. A constant stream of clear liquid was flowing down from the tree, hitting the branches and leaves, until it finally landed in the bowl, filling it almost to the edge, but never causing it to overflow.

"Welcome, my beloved," the voice spoke with softness that soothed their hearts. "You have done well to seek me out. This place is only for you. No other foot has ever stepped into these lands. What you see now is where you all came from. The water you see is me - it is magic."

The siblings all stared at the perfectly-shaped pedestal with unblinking eyes. "Come closer, Itokard, the scaled one," the voice spoke a name they all understood, yet never uttered themselves. It was the name of the middle sibling - a large reptilian creature. As he was asked, he approached the fountain while his brothers and sister couldn't tear their eyes off him.

"Drink," the voice commanded. "Drink and you will know magic." Itokard listened. He scooped the water into his hands and drank with big and impatient gulps. Nothing changed at first sight, yet inside, he was different now. He could feel the magic swell up inside his body and everywhere around him. The air, the ground, the very breath he took, all of that was magic. And he felt it. He felt Eigam's embrace, now and forever.

"Now you, Kifla, come closer. Drink and you will know magic," the voice commanded the eldest sister, one with long hair and pointy ears. She mirrored her brother. One sip was all it took to awaken something inside her. Her hair changed colour from the previously indescribable to a glorious mix of all of them. She felt the magic inside her. The sheer amount of it was enormous, yet fleeting. It was something terrifying, yet something to be cherished and loved at the same time.

"Oboro, you will be next," Eigam called the shortest one, with skin hard as a rock. He approached the pedestal and his siblings poured some of the water into his hands, for he was too short to reach it himself. He drank and knew magic. Not only where it was, but what it was. The different shapes it could take, and the various forms it could inhabit.

"Now, my children, you will be protected. No more harm should ever come to you, for you know all I am stronger than anyone, and with a part of my power, you shall never be in danger." the voice spoke and the water stopped flowing. The contents of the bowl emptied into nothing. The fountain was dry.

"What about me?!" called out the youngest sibling. "Why am I not protected? Why don't I know you as they do?" he asked the goddess.

"Because you are too weak. Your body is frail and your mind is closed. You cannot see me the same way as your siblings do."

"Then what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to protect them from harm?"

"You can't. Your role is different. You are the love that binds you four together. The one to be protected, not the one who protects."

"I'm not too weak! Give me the water and I will prove it to you!"

"No."

"At least something!"

"No."

"Please!"

...

"Eigam?"

...

Silence filled the hilltop. The three siblings approached their youngest kin, sensing the growing pit inside his heart.

"I will teach you about the world and its many beauties," offered Idokard the dragon.

"I will show you how vast Eigam's love can be. I will teach you all about it," promised Kifla the elf.

"I will teach you in what ways she loves us. How you can sense her love too," swore Oboro the dwarf.

"She doesn't love us," the human ground his teeth. "She loves only you!" He reached for the bowl on top of the pedestal and tossed it aside. It shattered against the nearby rocks. "Flow! Give me what you gave them! Make me one of them again!" he shouted at the tree. "Make us equal!"

Eigam did not wish to speak, but the shards of the shattered bowl hurt her deeply. She wished to spare them, but it simply wasn't possible.

The tree erupted into a massive geyser. The water flew and splashed to all sides, but there was nothing to contain it. It covered the pits, the valleys, and the hills. All that lived in the vast corners of the world either learned to swim or drowned. The ocean was born. Vast and merciless just like it is today.

The siblings were all swept away by the wave that consumed the world. Their pact to always stay together was broken and shattered by the calamity the youngest brother unleashed. But while the three blessed children of magic swam to the surface, the human drowned. He sank into the deep until the light could no longer shine down on his face. And in that endless darkness, he heard voices. They sounded just like the goddess of magic, but there was something different about them. The sounds did not form into any words he would know, yet the noises carried a meaning he had no trouble comprehending.

It took days before the water subsided, yet it never truly disappeared. The vast and endless fields that were once spanning from one end of the horizon to the next were now reduced to a single mass of land and a few smaller lumps of solid ground here and there. The first continent was born - Ezma. The creatures that were taken by the depths either stayed in them and perished, or rose from the magic and embraced this new home.

But they were no longer alone. For Eigam's very essence was creation. And when her being spilt all over the known existence, that urge to make new life remained, yet it was no longer guided by reason, and so it clung to whatever life it could find. Where a single creature weathered the waves, many of the same design would soon follow. No longer was each and every life original. Not in the sense that Eigam desired. Uniqueness was gone. Every creature that managed to emerge from the endless waters would now have to live alongside others of its own kind. The first species were born.

But the four siblings were different. The rampant magic could never replicate the one thing their mother gifted them - their blessings. Those newborn kin of theirs would each carry a mere fraction of the god's powers. Therefore, while other species struggled to understand this new world with all the strange new rules, such as day and night, or life and death, the children of the siblings thrived. And yet, not for long.

Each sibling managed to emerge from the waters. Even the youngest one. But the waves had separated them. They knew not where they were nor where their beloved family could be. Everything felt new and hard to understand. They all, however, now had a duty to their people. Those that were weaker and more fragile than them had to be protected and guided. There was no time to look for long-lost siblings. They had a new family now. Each of the gods now had to take care of their own.

The youngest sibling survived the ordeal too. His head, however, was forever changed. He understood the words of magic. Not those that she used to speak, but the true language. The language that would command the very essence of the world to bend to his will. His was this new blessing and very quickly, he passed down his knowledge to the other humans, teaching them how to transform their surroundings into something better.

It took them many years before their children would finally meet. Through sheer luck, the followers of the gods have discovered one another and such information quickly travelled to the ears of the ancient siblings. First, only two of them met, then the third one was discovered not long after, and only a couple more years passed before they were all reunited once again. That night, when the sky was filled with stars that seemed brighter than ever before, they sat down by the fire, just as they used to way before the world existed. They spoke for hours and hours about all the things they've done and how they each led their people to prosperity. And yet, the seeds of conflict needed so little to sprout. When the youngest would tell the others about his newfound blessing, his chest swole up with pride. That was until Itokard, the dragon, tried to replicate what his brother had shown him. What was to be a simple jest became the root of all problems. For the humans were not the blessed ones. What they could do anyone else could as well. The youngest didn't earn his mother's gift after all. All he had was a head filled with a dictionary. Nothing more. The magic he so proudly used was something everyone could replicate, should they have the time and patience for it.

At first, a spark of anger ignited inside his soul, but such emotions brought back the memories of the day he doomed their home for such a petty reason. Since he had learned from his past mistakes, the youngest sibling did not give in to his anger, but sadness swayed him still with every step. He was not original, and neither were the people he led. It didn't take too long for this information to spread. Kifla thought that her own people should not be confined to only some parts of magic, as their biology dictated, and so she passed the knowledge of the human magic onto them. But the humans took after their creator in more than his wisdom. In a fit of jealousy, a human killed an elf for "copying their magic". When Kifla heard of this, she was upset. Punishment was in order. Life had to be taken from those who would take it. But the human god could not witness such a thing. No parent would ever willingly oversee the execution of their own child. It didn't take long before the two siblings fought, and when the mortals beneath them saw their deities do so, then, as obedient children, they followed.

As it was in the nature of mortals, new conflict quickly replaced the old one. For many years, the siblings would fight over all sorts of things, fueled by hatred caused by the spilt blood of their followers. It took them centuries before finally, they decided to stop, at the very centre of this new world. They looked around and saw nothing but devastation. Corpses of their children would cover the hills and dye the grass red. All that was on their hands. The mortals would follow them anywhere, but there was no peace and joy to be found in such odysseys. To partake in the quarrel of the gods would mean certain death. And so finally, after years of bloodshed, the immortal siblings sat down and talked. They came to an agreement. The children they raised were now old enough. If they kept on following their gods blindly as they had been doing, it would surely lead to their doom. It was time for the parents to kick the birds out of the nest and teach them to fly. But there was nowhere for the mortals to go. No, it was the gods that needed to leave.

After their discussion on the field of the final battle, they each headed back home. All of them spoke their final words to their children, instructing them to keep on going, even though the gods would no longer be physically with them. Once the last tear was shed over such departure, the siblings met again at the place of their final battle. Here, they ascended into a small world of their own making, leaving the future of their species in the hands of their children.