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Chapter #5 — Song of Creation, Pleiguseans
🕑 Added 2024-03-03 15:22:55 +0000 UTCFor the first century, the new species—Paradisean, as I termed them—did virtually nothing.
As boring as it may appear, they were like newborns that spent their days feeding, or rather drinking from the Crimson Sea, which provided them with complete sustenance… There was no Death, and just one True Star lighting their world—its hue mild and gentle so it wouldn’t incinerate the teeming flora, thus there was no need to introduce the notion of Time into civilization, at least not yet.
They didn’t build anything because they didn’t need it—not with their tough hides that could withstand all manners of elements; not with the organs powering their bodies, which I created to never know decay or sicknesses.
They didn’t demolish anything since they had no need for resources beyond what filled the Crimson Sea.
However, things changed one day.
No, more precisely, it was already changing… With every passing second.
Lysara and I observed as unrest filled their formerly quiet, tranquil gazes.
I immediately identified it as ‘Boredom…’.
My first creation, the Paradisean, was beyond bored.
Maybe not all of them.
Some went to mountains and caves to sit and reflect; others went to the Sea to bathe in the nutritious fluid; all while others tried to play with their surroundings to find something that would interest them.
Against my expectations, the Feline Goddess offered no comments other than the occasional inquiry;
However, given what the feline species of Earth loved to do—lazing around under the sun—I suppose it’s not surprising. “Do they reproduce asexually, Nyan~?”
I shook my head in denial, “No, I had a mating ceremony in mind, but they are asexual. To procreate, two individuals of the species must first love each other very, very much and then join their Essences.”
The joke made me laugh, but Lysara did not seem to find it as hilarious.
Coughing to hide my embarrassment, I continued with the explanation. “The offspring will possess traits by both of their parents.”
“So it’s sex, but spiritual sex, Nyan~?” My lips twitched at the simplicity of her description, but I begrudgingly admitted. “That’s… That’s pretty much it.”
Sex, as a physical concept, was the union of two individuals of the same species.
It could be done with or without love, but Essence-Merging was superior: “They can’t do it without deep and intense love.”
“Why not have normal sex, Nyan? The more sex, the more children, which means more Experiences for you to absorb and learn from, doesn’t it? This appears overly intricate and self-limiting.”
I argued back from my perspective, without heat or anger, merely rationality.
“It’s the parents’ duties to raise their children well, so their children can only be birthed as an expression of love.”
What my parents had was lust, the lust of a cheerleader and a football player who, in his own words, could have gone pro and whose life was ruined because my mom decided to poke holes in the condom.
What a roundabout way to call me a mistake… Needless to say, they were miserable, and hence I, as the only one who had to deal with their angst everyday, was too.
Solution? Love… True Love.
Two people could only give birth if they loved each other, then the children would be raised in an environment where they could thrive.
Furthermore, “Why make millions or billions of low-quality product when one can make just a hundred superior ones that’d last?”
I reasoned before turning to the clumsy Paradisean below. “The products do not appear to be of high quality… Nyan~” Lysara murmured.
“They’re young…” I flushed. “Give them a moment.”
“The Paradisean are more than a century old now, give or take a few years. That’s usually more than enough to build a community, even if it’s primitive, given their level of intelligence and complexity, Nyan~”
“The invention of anything often arises from a need, or necessity.” Mankind developed weapons to equal the claws of monsters that they could never have tamed or defeated otherwise. They established society because there was power in numbers and a common antagonist against whom they could compete: Aka. Nature. But what would the end outcome be?
What would my Creations’ society be like if all their wants were met from the beginning?
Curiously, I sought to see into the future, only to recall that I had bypassed the future totally at the Paradis’ inception. Maybe it’s ridiculous, but with a future already set in place, was free will even possible?
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Tupsharru, but that grumpy old man who brought you to our City had a point… I don’t think this will end well for them, Nyan~ I may not be able to know the future of your Universe, but I can predict it, and it’s not looking good.”
Brows furrowed once again, I resisted the temptation to dispute, instead staring at them from above.
I wasn’t unaware of all the hazards; I was a capitalist for a reason, but that was Mankind. With an average IQ thousands of times higher than the typical human and bodies that’d never fail them, surely peace could be achieved for the Paradisean?
The Goddess shrugged, as if having seen through my thought-process, and stretched, a foot lazily smacking one of the faces which formed my waist and legs.
Around the second century, one of the original 100 Paradiseans realized that certain sounds might be combined to form a melody that’d drastically improve their spiritual experience. This Paradisean hurried to find the rest of its companions, wailing to summon them. “His Lordship has blessed us! Oh my Paradiseans! Come and listen!” His delighted voice echoed over the land, reaching every one of his kind in existence.
The Winged Giants flapped their wings and landed around their fellow Paradisean. “Speak, what art thou speaking of?”
“Watch!” He grabbed a nearby branch and tapped it on the hollow trunk of a tree. “Isn’t that amazing?!”
The other Paradiseans looked on, completely floored. “What is?”
“This!” Again, he tapped.
“That’s a sound… Almost everything makes it, Nïngrog. The gusts that blow through the trees also generate noises.”
Ah, so the First Musician in Paradis was Nïngrog… I hadn’t even realized they had begun naming one another.
“Yes!”
He began explaining with the zeal of a child. “Individually, each sound is boring, but what if we combine them?”
Despite the unfamiliarity of Music as a concept, some Paradiseans quickly grasped it, but I could tell their thoughts were striving to absorb it in its entirety, to fathom the boundaries of what such beauty might bring to them… The possibilities were endless.
First finally demanded after a brief moment looking. “Demonstrate, Nïngrog.”
The hundreds of arms behind the Forefather of Music groped for any nearby object before he began fiddling with what he had.
Rather than animal tendons, for there was none except them, Nïngrog painstakingly harvested the Lilac Tree Leaves.
Then, using his additional mental capacity and the Paradiseans’ natural precision to make threads that he dragged around the Heavy Woods, anchoring them into the he had poked into the gourd.
The final instrument lacked elegance and beauty normally expected from holy, yet it was the most beautiful thing I could conceive.
The pseudo-harp was created in a rustic design, with wood curls instead of cheap paint. “Listen to the song of Creation.”
The first note made my entire body shudder with pleasure as light emitted from the harp, presenting each note with incredible regard, yet this irritated me.
There was Order, but just Order alone was not enough.
It lacked something—passion; desires; the Soul. Then again, Nïngrog could hardly be blamed.
Music was in its infancy, and as immature as his little melody was, this moment must be etched into the tapestry of history, for it was as significant to the Paradiseans as the advent of fire was to Mankind.
I wasn’t sure about ‘beyond’, but Dumbledore was correct when he declared music was a form of Magic. Reflecting back on the history of Earth, most militaries were employing music to bolster their troops’ morale.
Sometimes people didn’t even feel sad, but the right OST could force them in that mood.
People would even cheer at Nazis’ salute given the proper soundtrack.
Even the most hardened men might shed tears, for music was an expression of the Soul. I could go on and on, but the point was: Music was an insanely powerful tool, under the right circumstances, of course. “The Law of Music?” It’s what I’d describe as a minor Law, one that was subordinated to the Law of Sound, which itself was beneath the Law of Vibration.
“Oh Lord, doth thou hear thy servant’s…”
He stopped, looking for the right word, since music had not yet been named. “Doth you hear your servant’s music? Will you not descend from the skies to hear this humble servant’s tribute to thy glory and greatness?”
“Nyan~ They’re asking for you, Sharru.”
“You wanna accompany me?” I’d be lying if I claimed I wasn’t the slightest bit anxious. Sure, we had met when I created them, but this was the first compliment the Paradiseans had given me.
In what felt like days, I had turnes from your regular Joe to a God adored by hundreds, if not thousands, if I included the Whiskereans in the equation, who made a different monument for Lysara and myself each. It was nail-bitingly worse because these were my Creations rather than hers.
I dared not claim I spoke for everyone, but being liked by your friends’ kids as the cool uncle was far less significant than being loved by your own children as the at least halfway decent father. “Worried, Nyan~?”
“A bit, yes.” I admitted wholeheartedly. “Just a bit, Nyan~?”
“A bit, yes.” I acknowledged totally. “Just a bit, Nyan~?”
Lysara mocked me as I used my ability to gather the dispersing Law of Music and then engraved it into the foundation of Paradis with a flick. The heavens thundered as each song and tune was burned into the fabric of reality mercilessly. “The Lord has heard me! He did, and he responded! Did you see?!”
As a random nobody before prior, I dared not pretend to know, but I figured this was how celebrities must have felt back on Earth. It was no wonder they grew a big ego, who wouldn’t? The only examples I could think of were Robin Williams and Keanu Reeves, one of whom had already committed the unspeakable to himself on Earth.
Perhaps I should take a note out of Marcus Aurelius’ book and construct a creature whose sole mission was to say in my ears, ‘You’re just a man.’ But I was a God…
This was getting confusing.
Shrugging away all those depressing, if useless thoughts, I smiled at the Paradiseans, most of whom were slow-dancing to the tunes.
Well, it was more… Awkwardly swaying than dancing, but I supposed all things must start somewhere.
Funnily enough, even the act of dancing resulted in a Law, albeit a Lesser Law instead of the Minor category, which Music belonged to. I’d think that the final objective, the Major Law, was Art. It’s the most logical evolution, but I could be wrong.
As the Paradiseans twirled and spun under the starlit sky, their movements growing hastier and more… Frantic, the tune synched as well, seeming to form a language of their own—one which words alone simply couldn’t match. Each step, each gesture, spoke volumes without a single word being uttered…
Hidden from their view, I clapped to the beats, each causing the heavenly firmaments to thunder. As ridiculous as it sounded, it seemed as if the moment would never end.
Lysara seemed detached from the situation, with a serious expression on her face.
One that expressed nostalgia, grief, and melancholy.
Strange, because I’d never seen her like that.
“Are you alright?” Worriedly, I inquired, and her response came in the form of a shrug. “Sorry, I did not mean to bring your mood down, Nyan~ It’s just… This kind of reminded me of the first Universe I made.”
I glanced at her and questioned, “What happened to it?”
Her gleaming, slit-eyes greeted me.
Inside was little more than a bottomless abyss—a haunting, thousand yard stare as a human would put it—which she only disclosed to me for a brief second, before answering with a forced enthusiasm.
“I destroyed it.”
I urgently wanted to know why, but that would be like pouring salt in an open wound.
She was compelled to, if my assumptions were right. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”
The Feline Goddess simply trembled.
“Maybe another day, Nyan~ Just enjoy the show for now.” I looked aside, gazing as all of Creation participated in the celebration, save First, I noted.
Looking into his Soul, I saw an empty, all-consuming pit where no light dwelled, not even a twinkle, and narrowed my eyes.
“Careful with that one, Sharru.”
Lysara warned from the sidelines. “Betrayal often comes from where you least expect, Nyan~”
Ah… Was this my Samael? Was he plotting a rebellion? Raising my finger, I almost annihilated him right there. ‘No…’ All I had was suspicion.
If I were to act because it, was I any different than a dictator; after all, if my Creations saw that their Creator acted in this manner, what was to stop them from doing similarly? If the Leader was neither correct nor just, how could his Followers be expected to do the same…?
Hell, what if they began to ask, ‘What if it’s me next?’
Like the Allies probably did during World War 2.
At that point it’s just a self-fulfilling prophecy. Even those who previously had never nurtured thoughts of rebellion would be forced to, and I’d deserve their hatred too.
‘Whatever,’ I thought. ‘I’ll deal with things as they come.’
Many grumbled about policies and their potential ramifications, even I was guilty of the same.
Few people ever entertained the idea that governments too had no idea what they were doing.
Few considered the possibility that the Gods were just as illogical… Just as clueless as they were.
The Paradiseans danced to erratic beats for millennia, but ultimately lost interest and returned to their homes.
All but First, who sat cross-legged, head resting on his arm. He's the only one who was entirely indifferent, yet he’s the only one that stayed, empty gaze glued to the Nïngrog, who didn’t even notice everyone had left.
Only then did he begin to dance.
It was more lovely than the wild swaying Lysara and I witnessed.
It was tamed and possessed an elegance I didn’t believe was possible for something so young. So primitive.
If the others were swaying, he was doing ballet.
However, it was infinitely dark.
Darker than the Void that the Universe itself resided in, as if he was trying and very clearly failing to contain the Beast inside.
“There stands the Betrayer, Sharru.”
“I know.” I spoke, my voice barely above the gentle breeze.
“What are you gonna do about it, Nyan~”
“You’re straying from the path… That way lies naught but destruction.” Carried by reality itself, my words reached his ears, but First did not acknowledge it, mumbling in denial. “I know not what you’re referring to, Creator. I’m merely doing your Will.”
Eons later, First pulled off a wing—a part of himself—and threw it to the ground. All kinds of emotions are blown into the discarded limb by the Song of Creation, and Life sprang from it. The monsters that emerged from the blast of flesh were definitely created in his image.
They had a bipedal shape like me and First, but were much more… Human, dared I say.
The new species was bipedal in shape, with complete facial characteristics, but he had definitely adopted Lysara’s looks, despite how brief their first meeting was.
The nose, for example, resembled a cat; nonetheless, the mouth was human, with four eyes—two under the brows and two just slightly above the cheekbones. Inside their mouths were two rows of teeth and four pairs of fangs protruding from the gums.
More and more spilt from the wing, but they had no wings of their own.
They could only exist on land because they couldn’t breathe under water; their bodies were puny and weak—stronger than I was used to on Earth, perhaps, but their biochemistry was a mass of rotting, unorganized particles.
With but glimpse, I immediately realized their DNA would get more and more damaged as the generations progressed.
The first may live for 20, maybe even 30 millennia of Earth’s time, but their children’s lifespans would be halved, reduced repeatedly, until they are a fraction of what they once were.
Only then did I understand the true magnitude of my error.
I had mistakenly given them a chance to reproduce, to create more of their own, and had naively imagined that the Paradiseans would want to mate,
To create the next generations together, but here we were, where the first generation—my grandchildren—were created by only one, and they’re ridden with illnesses;
Plagued by concepts I never intended to introduce to Paradise.
They were, cruel as it sounded, defective, while the Paradiseans were immaculate. “The Sky is Our Domain. Only with wings bestowed, may you soar to the heavens… Reach above your station, and you shall experience Death.”
First declared amidst the new species reverent worships,
And I watched as Death, Aging, and Decay were engraved into my Heaven. “Not what you were going for, I’m assuming, Nyan~?”
“I… I just…”
I was frozen in place; on the one hand, I wanted to stop it, yet it was what I had requested of them, wasn’t it? Grow and thrive. I eventually muttered something that was a mix of incredulity and dread. “I didn’t plan for this.”
My mental process was really simple: Democracy. Essence-Merging would allow both parents to decide what the outcome would be. “The method was intended for two, not one…”
“Creations, am I right? Always finding a way to surprise us, Nyan~”
I paid her teasing no heed, brows knitted tightly as I dived into First’s mind.
He wanted to be closer to me rather than be me, and the only way he could expect to grasp his Creator was to become one himself, yet he wanted something that was solely his, and no love had sprouted in him,
Not for his fellow Paradiseans at least.
His creations, however, were defective in and of themselves.
“What have you done…?”
Raising my fist to smite down the faulty… Things crawling on my garden out of rage, Lysara stayed my hand. “Why…?” I inquired, and Lysara responded, sadness oozing from her eyes.
“You will regret it, Sharru… Such an act will only drive a bigger wedge between you and your Creations. You decided to give them the ability; you granted them sentience, let the children figure it out… Stop trying to control everything.”
“But-!” I groaned as I gazed at the beings adoring First right now. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
“I won’t lie,” she said, flicking her tail. “You probably are going to, Nyan~”
The skies thundered again, “From hereon forth, you shall be known as Pleiguseans.”
And, as First named them, my abilities transmitted his voice across existence, both to represent the new species and my acceptance. From my experiences, once a Pandora’s Box had been opened, the odds of it being closed again were close to none, and sure enough, the rest soon got to creating and designing their own species.
