THE FIRST SHE

The begining has been both a debate and discussion ever since time began—not a deity, king, scholar nor even an oracle could ever tell another ear about the wonders of that single phenomenon. The reason is there were no living creature can comprehend it.

It is simply the greatest mystery for all immortal and perishable bodies—it might be a knowledge too far to be understood by the minds of those who walked in front of primitive or advanced footprints, or it can be sang in two stanzas of how straightforward the prologue is and every mouth has just been overlooking the simplicity of it all.

In the aftermath of Nameless, or the begining, is the age of gods and goddesses. The memory of their birth begins from an unexplained force—it came to be when everything was still nothing. It is the ancient one, oldest child, the first creation. A mist of generosity and talent. It hovers like a colorless cloud—or a void that is heavy with immense creativity and wisdom to breathe life into divinities that will start the first chapter in an ever-flowing story.

The divine beings spoke of it with a name that is called the Celestial. An uncomplicated, effortless name for the one that made those yesterdays that was looked upon with joy or grief and those tomorrows that are full of uncertainty or promises.

It cannot interact or be in contact with physical senses, but it is the pillar that holds every soul both lifeless and living. The Celestial then provided an empty canvas to the divinity, or so these gods said it did. A space where they could practice what has been done to them. To create.

And create they did.