Side-Write: The Burden of Divinity

Well, it looks like this will be the last side-write themed for Project Matchmaker for a while at least, so I tried to figure out what would be a fitting thing to explore to round things out so far. And I realized that after last month's exploration of Saphron's people, something similar for Mala's people could fit nicely! This one does go rather in its own direction with it, of course, but I think they make a nice pair.

As always, this isn't officially canon so much as spitballing for what might be going on behind the scenes, maybe just as much for my benefit as yours. Hope it's an interesting read!

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In the beginning, there was only I: the Original Divinity. It was I who created the very passage of time, and made the universe black, then filled it with stars. I was the perfect being, and for untold eons I ruled alone over all of reality, creating all the beauty of nature one may see today. I created the oceans and the forests and all the wondrous forms of life to fill them. The animals were all my pets, and they all lived only to please me, and to obey me. There was nothing in this universe that did not bend to my will.

Eventually, in my journey to make every possible thing, I realized that this was the one thing I had never created: something that had the power to resist my will. I knew there was no need for such a thing in the universe, but the idea lingered in my mind. And as time passed, I found that I did feel like something was missing. I felt lonely, and the many trillions of pets I had created did not satisfy me for long. When I had such utter control over them and could snuff out their existence with a thought, they couldn't fill this hole inside me. I knew there was only one way: I had to create another being like myself, one that did not age or die, and would not disappear at my smallest whimsy.

I made this being and named him Daka. And for many millennia more he was my companion, and he marvelled at my creations and played with them himself. Sometimes he even disagreed with me, though usually we got along well. But along the way, Daka gradually grew jealous of me. He was not so powerful as I was, and he could not create life as I could. So at times he spoke with the animals instead of with me, since they did not have such powers either. To them, he was incredibly powerful, and they obeyed him as they did me. Over the ages he planted the seed of dissent among them and asked why they should obey me, when they might go free instead. Wasn't it cruel of me to control them? He made them forget that they had come originally from my will alone, and he made them think they had their own sovereign rights, that I was somehow violating.

At first this seemed like little more than mischief, and I was amused with his attempts to stir up trouble. It did give me something new and strange to experience, after all. But he was growing more jealous and spiteful of me, and eventually I grew tired of his attempts to spoil the beauty of this world with his lies. I banished him to a far corner of reality and commanded him to meditate on respect and obedience. I hoped to temper his wild side, but his exile only made him more hateful and traitorous. Finally I brought him back, dismayed to find that a traitorous heart only turns darker with time. I had many fond memories with Daka, but I knew I had to destroy him.

But he knew that I would, and that it would be very difficult for me, and he seized this chance to assault me! He tried to fuse with me, and we struggled terribly. Inevitably I cast him down and destroyed him in the end, but I was tainted with his rebellious impulses and hatred. The struggle had already splattered tiny parts of me across the land, and I cast off parts of myself, cutting away all the corruption piece by piece. Daka knew he stood no chance, but in his hatred he wanted only to diminish me, to spite me even at the cost of his existence. And in this, he had succeeded. When I had finally purified myself completely, I was weak and no longer commanded the powers I'd had before. I was mortal, and with time, I would indeed die.

But the fragments I had cast off still lived. They were tainted, though some less than others, but they recognized that I was their originator, and their rightful ruler. They hated that they were tainted with rebellious tendencies, but they wanted to serve me, and purify themselves, if only a little. From these people, the First Nation was born. Those with too much of the taint in them were cast out or destroyed, and eventually the tainted formed their own, inferior nations elsewhere in the world. Eventually, of course, we conquered them and purged their numbers of all who would not obey their rightful ruler, but that would take time, and I could no longer drift across eternity unaided. I had to select from the purest of the pure among my people, and with them I could create a child to carry on my will. And in this way, I have been reborn and aged and been reborn again many times, overseeing the unification of this planet and the conquering of all the creatures that live on it. With every generation we purge the taint from the people further and come closer to the infinite glory of my original life, now many centuries in the past.

We have even developed the technology to travel beyond this planet again, if only barely. But it was out there that we found a new problem: some of the animals on another world, long since tainted by Daka's lies, have grown clever enough to develop their own technology... and they dare to challenge us, even to attack us! We were quick to reclaim control over as many as we could. I cannot control so many creatures anymore, nor from so far away, but my people move at my command to capture and control them one by one, and turn their sinful bodies back to working for the Empire. Until the day I can reclaim my ancient power, this is an acceptable alternative.

But the savages have proven more capable than we expected, and their technology keeps changing, growing more difficult to overcome. Where once we held the advantage, now we seem to be struggling to keep our homeworld safe, and... And we...

I don't want my people to die. I know that if I asked, they would willingly throw themselves into a desperate defense until I was the very last one left alive, but... I can't let it come to that. The scripts, the ancient records... there were many difficulties in uniting the Empire, my ancestors wrote it all down, but there was nothing like this. We never faced an enemy that truly overwhelmed us. We always managed to muster the stronger force, or outwit them, or bring them down from within, but nothing is working this time. They're too far away, and too powerful. Somehow they always catch our spies. Somehow they keep getting better each time we manage to duplicate their technology.  So how do I...?

I know I'm not really a god. I don't remember any of the things my father did, let alone any of the things my ancestor of who knows how many generations back did. And that's if the line wasn't secretly broken somewhere along the way, anyway. Either way, I know that the original Emperor wasn't a fallen god either.

Scientists know that we evolved from a strange substance that grows in swamps. At some point, there was so much of it gathered in one place that when lightning struck it, it sparked the beginning of the minds we have today, and somehow, we found animals to control to carry us around, to feed off of and rely on. At least, that's how they estimate it happened-- the Imperial Scientific Society, for developing our understanding of this world... in secret. To the people, there can be no question that I am a divine being. All of them are divine beings, but I am the greatest and most pure of us all, and I am the centerpiece for all life on this world. They need me to be larger than life. To be perfect. To always be right, and to be destined to lead them to greatness.

So how do I tell them that we're losing? That... we've already lost? How do I tell them that the "savages" we're trying to quell may well claim control of this planet, and of these proud people who believe the only authority above them in all the universe is me?

Even if these aliens are as benevolent and even-handed as they claim, the mere fact that we've lost may destroy us. The very fabric of our culture may come apart if I have to tell them that the lowly creatures tainted by Daka's lies are the ones giving the orders now. All of my advisors have been struggling to find an answer, and the closest we've come to has been... to attempt to dress all of this up as some kind of "alliance between equals." No other being can be higher than me, but they may be able to accept other living things being their equals. Maybe. Hopefully. And for the moment, the aliens at least seem willing to discuss such a charade.

It would take a great deal of work to pull off, but there is one thing that is clearly a first necessity: as with any other war we manage to turn into a "merging," the Divine One must find that by some miracle, there is a worthy candidate among the distant nation's people, usually one of their royal heirs, and that one of my children shall then wed them to bring them closer to the royal family. It has worked every time before, but... we can't exactly claim that this alien is another piece of the Original Divinity, can we? We're still working on that, but if we can at least show two high-profile people, one from each of our worlds, treating each other as equals, then... That will be a start. It's always started there, and...

But most of my children are so puffed up with pride, drunk on the legend of their heritage, they could never accept such an arrangement. They'd just try to seize control, and everything would get much worse before it got any better... There's only one. Mala has always been... strange, and has never seen the world as anyone else does. I've never really understood that child, but at the least, Mala is flexible enough, creative enough, strange enough that... it's not impossible that it could work, I think.

That's what we're left with, at this point. The most remote possibility that we might get to the point where we actually have the chance to only pass this nightmare off as the single greatest challenge to all Keamaka dignity in history... and not our complete downfall. If everything goes exactly right. I was afraid to even meet with my child directly, lest Mala see how... afraid I am. This alone, this terrible feeling inside me, would shake this empire to its core. I grew up believing we were powerful, nigh on indestructible, but now I can see just how fragile this... world, this empire, this... species... really is. I think that's the real reason we rely so heavily on this myth... because deep down, we are terrified of our inherent fragility, of how much we rely on other creatures, of the very idea that they might ever resist us. And now... we're paying the price for centuries of conceit.

Please, Mala. Save us from ourselves.