Godbound: Beyond the Edge of Night
The Creator and His Creations
Little can be said for sure about the Creator. Though some of the common languages of Arcem refer to that august being as “He,” even the Unitary Church—the modern bastion of Creator-worship—interchangeably uses “She” to describe the object of their faith. It is likely that the Creator is beyond such mortal concepts as gender—if he even exists at all.
This much is known: There is a place called Heaven. Within it once dwelt angels who claimed to serve the Creator of All Things. At the heart of that place is a Throne. When mankind stormed the halls of Heaven to demand answers of the Creator, that Throne stood empty.
Some still worship the Creator, an absent god upon whom they can project nearly any creed or belief, using their god’s absence as a way of synthesizing a faith that serves their own ends. Many follow such established beliefs faithfully, never questioning the edicts, while others follow them callously, manipulating those beliefs for their own ends.
Some think there is no Creator and never was. They hold that the godhead was a lie of the angels, who themselves are only a manifestation of the principles of existence
Some say the Creator fled Heaven ahead of the armies of Arcem, fearful for his own existence should they find him upon the Throne. Others hold that he did indeed flee, but only out of sorrow at what arrogance man had descended into. These two groups argue incessantly about where the Creator went and whether he will ever return.
The angels hold no love for man in these fallen times, and they tell so many different stories about the Creator that at least some of them must be lying. If an angel is speaking to a human, it is only because the angel judges talking to be a more efficient way of destroying that human than fighting. Or perhaps it is but a moment’s amusement in an eternity bereft of purpose. The angels tell many different stories, and at least some of them are lies. More likely, most of them are lies.
If there was a Creator, he (or she, or it) was responsible for the creation of the Realms, of Heaven, of Hell, and of the Words. He also created the angels and the celestial engines, making them to maintain his greater creations.
He did not make the Uncreated Night—on that, all religions agree. The Night came before the Creator, and he did not make it. Disagreement arises over whether the Creator came from the Uncreated Night himself, or came into being contemporaneously with it.
He did not make the realms called Paradises. Those were fashioned by the Made Gods as rewards for their faithful and a means of avoiding the otherwise inevitable fate of becoming Hellbound.
He did not make the lusae. Each of those unique horrors came from the decay of a realm, the breakdown of a celestial engine, or the unchecked hubris of a Made God. Most are simply mistakes, jests of a capricious reality breaking under the strain of existence.
He did not make theurgy, but he did make it possible by speaking the Word of Sorcery. Theurgy is a mortal attempt to comprehend the metaphysical nature of reality by bending the functions of Sorcery to human will. Allowing this secret to fall into mortal hands may have been the Creator’s greatest mistake—or perhaps it was simply an inevitable consequence of the underpinnings of reality being structured the way they are.
None can say.