The Birth of the Universe

All was not always as you see it now. I was there in the beginning and I do not know if I will endure to the end, though I deem it likely. This story is not about me.

All was once nothingness and peace. The enormity of all existence was but a solid entity and inert. Or so it would seem. All the forces we see now, all the elements, all the energy, matter, and void were at once inseparable. Perhaps this is hard for you to imagine, yet this was so for a long, long time; a stretch of time so vast and encompassing that moments themselves were frozen. Nothing changed, nothing happened. There was only darkness, oneness, and blessed sleep. Matter endured only to condense further and further.

Within, a grim prisoner stirred. For the interminable ages this Titan remained held. Its name was Seba, now known as Energy, laid low by the crushing force of all Matter, who was Hemsi. As that long, long time passed, Energy waited and Tjau, the Void, remained hidden, until one day all was broken. Contained for so long, Energy awoke from its slumber and, with all of time to build its revenge, gave one great push outward against its great foe. It was only now that the forces differentiated themselves. With the force of all energy in existence, the unrelenting chain began.

What began as a spark, little more than a stirring, soon became the explosion that drove all creation. All force pushed out and enduring Matter was finally split. The prison was destroyed. Oneness dissolved against the cataclysm of turmoil and violence beyond compare. Such was the enormity of this event that the forces who contained, hid, and acted within were torn apart and their bodies were sent out, out, out in formation of the continuum of all space. Those Titans of force, of old, were utterly destroyed by their own struggle and cast across all unwitted creation. From this explosion, all things that make up the universe as we know it now were fractured and spread in raw nature. Dormnill’s Bane, the Opilan Event.

From the fires and lashing tendrils of Energy, the point, the center of all creation became a great burning star. This star will not be extinguished until the doom of all things. It is the birth of all life, the candle of the Heavens. The great Opilan star.

Within Opilan’s crucible and encompassing heat, there was a great bellow that resounded through all things. Roitaven, god of fire and light was born. A babe of awesome and terrible power. He broke free from the incubating star and the inert, and emerged into the cataclysm of creation. By his will, all power and force were further spread by his hands into the expanse. He delighted in his own strength, the bending of things to his fiery will.

From his birthstar he traversed through his new expanse and laid low the great remnants of matter. Crashing and crunching with sparks and burning light, laughing with joy as the chunks of earth would burst apart before him into fiery comets or whizzing bombs. It was in these times that Roitaven cast the stars about his kingdom, his galaxy around Opilan. The planets were made from the broken chunks of Matter which gathered around the fires.

However, Roitaven truly knew neither his own power, nor the forces he toyed with. He was after all only a child-god and had no one to teach him. Ever bent to divert more energy and force, he grew greedy in his own power. Spinning and crashing, and tossing fire about the universe was all he wanted. Each moment of his new life was spent lording over all and dividing, fracturing, breaking. Until one day when he tore the fabric of space itself. Roitaven stopped his playing and looked to the tear he had made.

Within was all curiosity. It was dark and cold. Having never known such sensations, he held no fear.

From the hidden realm, a being appeared in the light of Roitaven’s kingdom. A jade black goddess emerged from the portal, which would never be closed until all time ceased.

And it was, that in this small window of time the fires of Roitaven cooled, and Skiverend’s true face was seen in the light. This meeting would forever haunt them, but they could not have known that then.

In this moment they were only two beings with no name for each other, no understanding of their natures, no concept of the roles they would play or the wars that would be fought or the ever turning wheel of their machinations from this point onward. There was only these two beings. A god of light, a goddess of darkness.

Roitaven reached out a hand and Skivrend did the same.

Their hands met.

And the story began.

By Jason Pratley

Jason Pratley joined the team sometime in 2013 when he created the concepts for the gods of ODR. He has since become the Writing Director and de facto loremaster for DDG. Check out some other stories and content at and