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In the beginning there was nothing. A cold empty void. An endless, boundless canvas awaiting its artist. Someone who would fill it with light, color.
With life.
Within the void, Space laid in wait. For how long? Who could tell. Time did not exist in the void, for the void had nothing capable of aging, decaying. Changing. But… she wished for it, for some kind of change. Ever since she had become aware, Space longed for companionship. She was close to desperation many a time, yet something kept her spirit high, warmed her with strange assurance. So, she prayed and prayed, calling to a force it didn’t even know existed to come and reshape the nothingness.
And the force came – but it wasn’t a single entity. The Makers, they were called. Artists, artisans, inventers. Creators brimming with ideas, with romance. All traveled here from afar, another universe where they held no special power. All searched for a space where they could thrive.
This was that space.
Thus, the making and shaping began.
They kindled the stars.
They raised planets and established galaxies.
They molded, burnt and carved.
They seamed and embroidered.
They painted and polished.
Once the new universe came to be, the Makers appraised their work. So did Space. Worlds of lush woods and crystal oceans, suns radiating all the colors of the rainbow, stars arranged in most beautiful patterns in the night skies. Space marveled at every detail.
However... dissatisfaction kept nagging at the Makers. They looked at the universe from different angles, yet only saw perfection. But Space knew what was missing and once more desperately called out to the creators. Persistent, determined, even though she had no voice. That same strange reassuring warmth made her keep trying.
One of the Makers felt the plea. He alerted the others and together they figured out the source. But to speak to it, they needed to give it a form. The artisans took the brilliance and radiance of stars and fashioned a tall, beautiful maiden, as immense as the cosmos itself.
Now personified, the overjoyed Space spared no words to show her gratitude, only to abruptly start explaining what the Maker’s creation lacked.
“Your universe is indeed beautiful and flawless. But it is just a pretty picture. Motionless. Lifeless. I prayed for someone to change this cold dark void. And you did. You made it bright and colorful – oh, so, so colorful! Now, please, make it move too… Make it live.”
The Makers hesitated. To give something life meant to also condemn it to death. And with death would come sadness, anger. It would no longer be a paradise.
Then the Maker who had heard Space spoke, “We made perfection – but was it really what we set out to do? The fear for our creation is holding us back. If we want to make true wonders, we need to let it live its life. If some things die… then so be it. They will lead to change, to evolution. Let’s make this universe imperfect – so that it would be grow into its own perfection.”
With that, it was decided and new laws were bestowed upon the worlds.
First was the Law of Time – for it to flow forever forward, never yielding. Naturally, there would be fools who would try to bend it to their will, trespass within its domain. So, the Makers smelted sharpness and precision and forged a Warden, as perfect as the force she represented.
Second came the Law of Life – for everything alive to grow, mature and multiply. For its avatar, the Makers planted the gentleness and harshness of a parent in each world and watered the sapling with care mixed with slight obsession, until it sprouted Mother Nature who would nurture life in all forms.
As a counter, the Law of Death was established next. A living being shall expire, be it due to age or circumstance. The Makers had to cut out the deepest, darkest corner of the void to stitch together the Grim Reaper, who would guide souls to the Beyond.
But of course, even with such limitations, life would evolve. Civilizations would rise, fostering many works of art, many technological discoveries. For this Law, the creators sculpted a Guardian who would keep record of Civilizations’ marvels before everything perished with their inevitable fall. Instead of marble or anything of the sort, they used the well-known twisted, two-sided aspect of the so-called civilized life.
However, the most important, as some believed, was the Law of Chaos. A random chance introduced to the universe. A sudden change of wind warning prey of the hunter’s presence. A dry season destroying crops. A famine leading to unrest and revolt. Or – a bus being late makes you strike a conversation with a fellow unfortunate soul. A connection forms that grows into friendship and soon you two are as thick as thieves. Until a meteor strikes and wipes everything out. So many possibilities, so many eventualities. The dice roll was unpredictable – such was the rule put in the core of the avatar of Chaos.
Space was not included in the Laws, as she had always existed within this void. Yet she felt kinship to the avatars of the Laws. Perhaps, because her form too had been made by the Makers. Or they simply got along naturally. Regardless, she was considered a part of the Primordials, the higher powers within this new universe and any of its layers.
Eventually, the Makers created more, expanding and enriching the worlds. But these six were the original ones. The Prime Forces. The five of them formed the Council, with the focus on life and the affairs of mortals. Death acted separately, taking care of the perished souls.
“Won’t you be lonely?” Space asked as the Grim Reaper was about to set out on his own. “Stay with us, it’ll be more fun that way.”
“The Makers created me with a specific purpose and I intend to do my duty diligently. I have no need for fun or company,” Death replied. However, he paused to ponder on something. “But in time I might require an apprentice or two. Please, make sure it is possible,” he asked the creators and left without waiting for the answer.
“If he can get helpers, I’d like one too,” Nature told the Makers. “By your design, I am not capable of fighting. So, I’d need a champion who would protect me and my forests, my friends.”
The Makers, after much consideration, acknowledged both requests. Death, should he desire, would be able to have an apprentice. And for Nature they made immortal warriors, one in each world, to stand guard against anything that would threaten life.
With the main mechanisms set, the Makers scattered throughout the universe. They weaved rules into their worlds and created various races to supplement them. No longer bound by the fear of imperfection, their imagination truly began to flourish. They mixed and matched to create the most fun, at times quite bizarre, combinations. On some, magic reigned as people worshipped gods and received power for their loyalty. Others rejected any notion of deities with fully committing to science. And on a very rare planet magic and science managed to co-exist.
There were worlds of vast oceans peppered with islands both big and small and planets where the land stretched on without end.
Worlds where mages bent elements to their will.
Where special fruits gave extraordinary powers.
Where people transformed matter through equivalent exchange.
Worlds focused on the advancement of technology with a dream to travel among the stars.
Worlds of endless adventure.
Worlds of unspeakable horrors.
The Makers created sandbox after sandbox, getting bolder with every try. They might have even dived into the absurd, which led to perfectly flat worlds resting on the backs of elephants which, in turn, stood on a turtle swimming through the universe.
Some grew tired of making physical worlds and built whole other planes of existence. Sky is the limit – such was a saying in the home of the Makers. But here they had no sky above them, only the endless canvas of cosmos.
Among the creators was one particular Maker. The one who had heard Space and advocated for giving life to the universe. He had built several worlds of his own, yet they would never turn out quite the way he wanted. Because this Maker had a peculiar vision. A dream. He wished for the people of his worlds to be pure and wholesome, living peaceful, prosperous lives.
But he never put any restrictions, never weaved rules into their minds.
He chose to give them free will.
Naturally, it led to immorality, selfishness, betrayal, conflicts, blood being spilled for the most insignificant reasons. The Maker was disappointed – first of all, in himself. Was there something wrong with him? Was he just incapable of creating pure designs? He kept pondering and overanalyzing his work. At one point, he even thought that maybe it would be best to wipe the slate clean.
And yet he wouldn’t stop watching his worlds, the people on them.
How they struggled. How they fought for their ideals. How they went on the seemingly fruitless grinds to achieve their own dreams. How they cried in despair as every endeavor went up in smoke.
Misery all around, it would appear.
But no, that wasn’t the case.
There was also laughter or a simple smile of pride after a long day of work. Hands lent to both friends and complete strangers in a moment of need. Warm embrace of a loved one. Firm shoulder to lean on, to stand beside in the face of hardships.
Indeed, his creations weren’t perfect or entirely pure, but they were genuine. Hard work paid off. Not for everyone, of course. But there was still a chance of success. Just as there was a chance for those who stumbled to stand up again.
Everyone was capable of cruelty – as well as kindness.
And thus, the Maker’s dream was no more. Instead, it became a promise – to always let people be free, to never take the choice away from them. They could be bad. They could be good. It would be up to them, their own morality. He could only hope it would all work out in the end.
As he made that wish in his heart of hearts, he heard a whisper. Or more like, he felt it. Just like it was with Space. However, this tiny, indistinct voice seemed reassuring, warming.
The Maker called upon the other creators and they weaved the feelings the mysterious presence had invoked within him into a form.
The Maker studied the lady with small crystal-like wings and horns. “What are you?”
“I am Hope,” she answered simply.
“Where did you come from? How long have you been here?” the creators asked in confusion. This wasn’t part of their design.
Hope smiled. “A mystery, isn’t it? I am not quite sure myself. Perhaps, I’ve always been with you and none of you noticed. Well, most of you didn’t.” She bowed slightly to the perceptive Maker.
The Council appeared alerted by the commotion. Immediately, Space recognized the familiar presence. She embraced Hope and said, “You kept me warm in the cold emptiness of the void. Sorry I’ve never realized you were there. Would you join us?”
Upon hearing Space’s words, the other members also welcomed Hope with open arms. Only Chaos held back. Something about Hope made her feel funny. But she was in charge of the Council and everyone looked at her for confirmation.
“I suppose she can be an honorary member!” Chaos blurted feeling abashed all of a sudden.
The universe cheered as the Council became six. And forever six it shall be, the Makers decided. A perfect ensemble to watch over their creations. However, there would need to be some kind of oversight. Even though the Primordials were fashioned with the best intentions, they could still make mistakes and abuse their power. At least, theoretically. To counter that, one of the Makers was appointed to monitor the Council and audit the reality itself. A being capable of erasing any and all of the Prime Forces should they overstep.
With the last safeguard put in place, the creators began to add a finishing touch. A world – but not just any world. It was at the center of the universe; it was its heart. The masterpiece of the Makers, with all of them working together. Yet there wasn’t meant to be anything special within the world itself. It would be populated by the least special species with one rising above others to build civilizations. Humanity – which was a rather common race in the universe. However, these would be the most mundane humans of all. They would worship gods and attempt to do magic, only to eventually get into science. There would be times of peace and times of war. All in all, an absolutely ordinary place.
Except for one little thing.
The Makers connected this planet to every other one in their vast universe. Small breaches would appear letting in alien creatures both sapient and not. These visits, these extraordinary encounters would lead to many, many stories told all over the world. They would spark hundreds, thousands, millions of minds as myths and legends carried throughout the centuries. They would make humans dream and believe there was other life among the stars.
For these ordinary folk were anything but short on imagination.
Eventually, after years of wild speculations and humiliation, through an excruciating number of trials and errors, brilliant minds would build a gate and pave ways to all these fantastical and bizarre worlds the Makers had scattered throughout the universe. They would come in contact with a great many races, make deals, alliances – and first of all friends. The people of other worlds would come to visit, curious about the homeland of those who managed to break through the barriers of space.
Some would decide to stay.
Together humans and nonhumans would found a city that would embody all the known worlds and races. The streets would have cars and carriages – run by both horses and steam engines, - while in the air brooms and carpets would fly next to vehicles of scientific ingenuity, as well as gargoyles and dragons. The city-scape would be riddled with tall buildings of glass scraping the sky, stone towers and even mighty oaks within which the fairies would reside. In comparison, brick and wooden houses would be completely dwarfed, while hobbit burrows would appear simply miniscule. There would, of course, be an underwater district, for all the various mer, and winged folk would perch in their aeries.
A grand magical academy and a research institute of cutting-edge technology would stand on the opposing ends of the city. In the center, the palace would neighbor the parliament as the nobility and city administration would work side by side for the betterment of citizens. Illness and disease would become obsolete with the help of healing magic, potions, advanced medicine. There would always be a chance to save a life, no matter the injury, as long as the person was alive. So, if Death did end up taking apprentices, they might end up looking for another job.
This world, this city would be a place of wonders, full of extraordinary people.
An elite shrine maiden.
A demon aiming for world domination, yet never scrapping enough money for a decent hideout.
Her second-in-command who is more like an actual boss of their little secret society.
A dragon contained in an android body.
A vampire grandpa managing the city archives, a hot-headed gladiator and an alchemist with a fondness for copium.
Their kind, wise leader and his little bratty rain shaman of a sister.
A ghost who likes to be a minor inconvenience.
A magician incapable of spelling her own name.
A shy necromancer with an ear-piercing scream of a banshee.
An alien artist who crush-lands here on her own UFO.
A genius with no memory of her past, locked away in a shady facility.
A slightly mischievous fairy.
A police officer with a duck for a partner.
A wandering exorcist hunting the demons that dare to disturb the peace of this land.
A celestial seamstress seeking to rekindle her passion.
Several kitsune, ranging from a wine-loving goddess to a foul-mouthed, yet sweet cupcake.
Not to mention, an ordinary girl with a big dream to perform on the grand arena.
And, of course, a time-travelling detective who would gather around herself beings that even the people of such a bizarre world would call myths.
They and so many more would come to call this city home.
Yes, all of that would happen.
Maybe.
Potentially.
Hopefully.
But right now the universe was still young.
Satisfied at last with their creation, the Makers stepped back. Their work was done, they could no longer add or adjust anything. Even if there was a threat to all of existence, the universe would have to manage on its own. After all, it had all the necessary safeguards.
And plenty of guardians.
Chaos rolled the dice and made life dance to her crazy tune…
Hope hummed in the hearts of those who were down on their luck…
Civilization recorded the constant strife for grandness and growth smeared with the dark urges all folk across the universe seemed to have…
Nature soothed the pains of flora and fauna from the encroaching progress and on occasion taught a lesson to those who dared to think they could severe ties with her…
The Warden guarded the endless branches and paths of Time, ready to tear apart anyone who would want to mess with her perfection…
As for Space… she had a duty too. With her once cold and dark abyss now full of light and life, she was filled with desire to protect it. She grew bigger and bigger until the universe rested on her chest. Like this nothing would hide from her.
“I’ll keep you safe,” Space whispered to the universe.
There was no reaction, not even one star flickered. But it was alright. The vow was made and it would be forever sacred, absolute.
It would be eternal.
As Space herself.