Gods & Men, Volume I

by Brán Rínnan, nid Fónnin

A study on souls, physicality and the gods above

Chapter I: The Ancient Lyrians, and their Lost Messages

As a young boy, I practically grew up inside those tattered Lyrian forts, traversing their catacombs, catching but a fleeting glimpse of a great civilization that once was, scrawled endlessly upon the massive stone walls I so dearly miss. But I also lived among the far elder Fónnan tribal cultures, whose still-living prelates soiled those canids in their sermons, claiming their actions to achieve what they called the Kolei—religious transcendance through mechanical and mathematical means—were entirely unjust for disgracing the most important Fónnan religious site, Daĭn.

From either side of the spectrum, the Lyrians had more semblance of what they were after than the Fónnan have ever had; after accompanying fellow scholars on expeditions into larger, more preserved Lyrian science centers, we came across strange carvings and paintings—some sort of record, data, or perhaps, historical—that they were after, things they referred to as "cosmograms". These cosmograms, most firmly believed to be diagrams of the heavens and the greater firmament, all appear to be unique in shape and data, sharing only few general structure shapes and similar handwriting. Upon further investigation of said carvings, as well as accompanying kiyi documents recovered from well-sealed reliquaries in the depths of Juruna, my colleagues and I hypothesize that these documents are not at all maps of the heavens, but maps of the living soul and its constructive layers, much like the art of scroll-writing. We believe the Lyrians were looking to finalize their path to Kolei at Daĭn, and that the immense power from the site was the perfect catalyst for some sort of advanced machine... capable of giving power immediately, straight into a mortal soul.

But what kind of power, you may ask? What does this have to do with the gods? Well, to the former, we have no answer; such machines designed for these tasks were dismantled as a buffer to keep Nokana invaders from stealing Lyrian technology. Most records detailing these mechanisms' creation and function have also been destroyed, save a few salvaged before word reached certain Lyrian cities of the invasions. But, the latter question ties into everything: the Lyrians were the first to discover that souls have differing values of power.

Although the Tenebra Manifest has described the differences in "frequency hierarchy" before, as with many of the book's passages, the record was too vague and unreliable for it to be proven scientifically. But with this discovery, we have inferred that the souls of mere gods and men are in fact tangible, existing things, most likely made up of magic.

Chapter II: The Soul of Men and Gods

It is not an easy task to pinpoint the exact origin of souls, especially given they are very difficult, if not impossible to comprehend. To answer this question, I set out for Kados, on the northern edge of the ominous Kira Jungle. Having traveled here before, I was warmly welcomed by the Kutai inhabitants. These Kutai possess a certain specific set of beliefs tying into our subject, namely, however, they believe they may know where souls originated.

Though the Kutai priests are cryptic, and their Atherin is rather rusty, I was able to understand a bit of what the tribalistic shamans had said. They spoke of a sort of "universal oneness", connecting all things living. As a religious historian, I can't help but be intrigued by this, as I've heard it before in other religious texts. This "oneness" in out most common religion, the Collective, is described as the endgame of being reincarnated through Meirgan, once the soul has lived 100 lives, it simply ceases to exist, and is supposed to "mesh with Laira", as the Tenebra Manifest describes it. And, as the shaman told me their great fables, he seemed to imply that all life is indeed a splinter off of one, greater soul.

Certainly we can say that there is a bit of truth to this, as many religions contain a similar theme, pertaining to the goddess Laira, who makes up the entire universe... However, in religions such as Karophism and the Collective, sentient races are a separate living aspect entirely, but animals are still attached to Laira. If Laira is our recurring theme, then we indeed can say that she is the greater, single-soul being referred to. But what of the souls of men? If so many other religions say we are indeed born of a different single-soul, then where is this soul?

One of my colleagues has believed for a while now, that men originate from the same place Tenatua originate: a "reservoir" of souls, per se, in the outermost reaches of the universe, beyond Laira and all known physicality. Although it is an interesting theory of his, I personally believe it is ludicrous, because men do not possess the same power as beings originating from here. The Collective and related religions explain the origin of men's souls being simply created, which I find especially intriguing. These first souls were given to the first sentient races and supposedly fed into their children, and so on, but as the Collective's general rules with souls goes, the soul would have to decay at some rate, each time it is fractured to another being. So indeed, where does the soul receive its continuing power in this religion? They say from Ugana, but I would say that is impossible; combining two souls is dangerous (as witnessed in the repulsive necromancy), and leaves the combined soul demented and scarred.

So, I propose that souls do originate from a reservoir, somewhere, but as we've seen before, they are recycled continually throughout the life cycle... Which begs the question: Under what circumstances is a new soul pulled from the reservoir? Or, even, where do the souls of gods come from? Are they from the same place, or simply just existing in a finite amount?

Chapter III: The Celestial Hierarchy

In search of an answer to the previous questions, I set out from the Kutai lands for the lesser-known Faarjin, to speak with its ominous and strange inhabitants, the Skuja'Dir. We were greeted like kings, and luckily I had a translator, as the rodent-people's language is one of a complex strangeness I have never encountered before. The Skuja'Dir possess beliefs heavily involving sound frequencies and sound in general, and I believe these can tie into souls themselves. The ferrets showed me their rather small collection of records, and toured the temples with me, and I came to the conclusion after spending long nights evaluating their culture, that the entire religion of Tsa Mavva is based around what I call the "celestial hierarchy". This hierarchy is effectively the difference in power between souls, but what is interesting, is that the Skuja'Dir describe their hierarchy as a "difference in sound frequency", showing they specifically believe that souls are made up of sound, and can effect the physical world if used correctly.

Indeed, there is some truth to this theory; the soul has been measured before by the Lyrians with sand upon shale. In their test, sand is poured upon a sheet of shale, held up by two other pieces, forming a makeshift table out of the stones. The canids then had a normal man blow into a war horn, and the sand would move and shift in different patterns to the sound, until forming a tree-like, almost blood vessel-shaped formations. They would then have a Lyrian Akko (who, by history, was always a demigod) blow into the same war horn, and the shale would vibrate, the sand moving differently, and spinning into the center, some grains even jumped off the tables in its violent formation. What is curious about these tests, though, is that the Lyrians documented the sand actually spiraling slightly upwards, suspended in the air for just a moment until the horn stopped. The Akko demigods were known to have completed the transcendent path before, while the average Lyrian used had not. While the Akko's sand moved so focused, the man's sand spread itself chaotically. This is certainly evidence of the stable soul versus the chaotic everyman's soul.

Simply saying, these tests and the Skuja'Dir records state that souls are indeed capable of affecting the physical world, and one of these ways is through augmentation of sound. So, plainly, I believe that in this hierarchy, the souls of gods are not only more powerful and higher-frequency, but also more focused, and significantly more powerful as a result. So, a soul like that of Laira, or the much-hated Kalopsis, would be incomprehensible to us mere mortals, as its power is so great, it can almost not survive itself in the material plane without being crippled by the lack of survivable magic energy. Which brings me to my next point: Although some souls of gods and demigods are greater than that of ours, they significantly handicap themselves, because they survive off of the leeching of a plane's magic force, which they effectively output again by interacting with the world around them. However, Atheryin, as we all know, possesses far less pure magic force than places like Arkai, or Ta-Kaya, where our gods may reside on a day-to-day basis. Strictly saying, gods are far weaker when their soul takes a direct physical form upon our plane, unless they are partly anchored in another realm.

Indeed this hierarchy has its ups and downs, and the beings at the top are rarely seen in their full physicality as a result. However, this does not stop them from using part of their soul to create a physical manifestation of a man, or beast, upon Atheryin. But if the gods themselves consume magic and then output it once more, how does this happen? Is it output in some form of invisible energy frequency? The second volume answers these questions, along with much more intriguing studies on our wonderful universe.