Prologue//Sic Itur Ad Astra

The first memory he had was awakening to the sensation of tears trickling down his face, and a fleeting, comforting sense of peace. Slowly, his eyes creaked open as he moved to rub them off. He knew they did not belong to him; His eyes felt so dry that it seemed as if he had not wept in millennia. But what *was* familiar to him was the pain and regret that gave way to grief and sorrow. All too familiar. Shaking his head, he glanced down at his garments. He was wearing a plain white robe, covering him from the neck down. The robe was covered with stains, each one dark red, scattered in a seemingly random pattern across the surface of the silk-like material. His skin was heavily tanned, possibly from having lain in the sun for who knows how long.

As he slowly picked himself off the dirt, he slowly came to realize that not a single soul, save for himself, was nearby. Where had the tears come from? An out-of-place feeling of loneliness permeated his chest. He was seated on what he surmised had once been farmland, with bits of plant life either dead and dry on the floor or poking out through the soil. The meadow stretched on as far as the eye could see, and with the exception of the enormous tree that he had awoken under, there was nothing obstructing his view of the vibrant blue sky and the few clouds it held.

His eyelids suddenly felt much heavier than they had a second ago. Despite not knowing where he was or how long he had been there, he bowed his head, letting his long hair fall on his face, and slept.

.....

His second memory was sitting upright in what appeared to be a wooden log cabin, in a bed next to a windowsill, with sunlight and a light breeze gently pushing on the window. He could smell a scent like lavender coming from outside. Before he could remember how he had gotten here, the door to his room creaked open. A man - Or perhaps a woman, he couldn't tell - stepped through the doorway, arms full with a set of tea. He stood up, or tried to, when all of a sudden, the floor was coming up to meet him. In a flash, in the other person's arms where the tray had just been, he was now, the tray in question somehow resting on the table next to his bed, without even a single drop out of place.

"Easy now." The person smiled down at him. Their skin had healthy color, though not tan like his, and their eyes held a comforting golden sheen, like the midday sun. "The weight of your sins are heavy, and as of right now," An unreadable blend of emotions flashed across their smiling face. "you are too weak to carry them." Whatever emotions had just surfaced were quickly reburied underneath another reassuring smile.

"So, allow me to carry them for you, my friend."

.....

After that, a silence filled the room. The other person was sitting across from him, whom had their eyes closed, sipping the tea they had brought in. After what felt like an eternity, the other person set down their cup.

"You really don't remember a thing, do you?" The other's piercing gaze seemed to go right through him, a stare that felt familiar, somehow, but also unmistakably alien at the same time. He shook his head. The other person looked him over some more, and then relaxed back into his seat, seemingly satisfied.

"Alright," the other person sighed, knocking him out of his trance, "Then let me tell you a story." They sat up, their hands in their lap, and began their tale.

.....

"This story began many years ago, a story so old that by now, only you and I remember it. And well, you don't remember anything, so..." They coughed.

"Sorry. Anyway, long long ago, this world was created. This world was created by the hands of only one being. This person was great, prideful, and by all accounts, a bit of a pain in the ass." At this, the other person chuckled. An inviting laugh.

"On the first day, this person created the sun. They simply needed to see what they were working with, so there isn't much that needs mentioning there. On the second day, they created the sky, simply so that the sun's heat wouldn't kill everything instantly. Their first kind act."

"On the third day, they made the plants and fruits of the earth, and the fourth day was spent crafting a black veil to the day sky's blue, that the creator called 'night', simply because they wanted to, I think." They chuckled again. "On the fifth and sixth days, they created people. And after they performed that feat on the sixth day, it has been said, and will forever be said, that the creator simply rested for the seventh day."

"But," The mood in the cabin turned darker, ever so slightly. The smile disappeared from the other person's face. "I know, and you knew, that this wasn't the case. There were nine days, my friend." The other person took a deep, shaky breath. "But two of them were erased. Erased from history, erased from the minds of any who once knew. All except for me."

"On the eighth day, the creator was unsatisfied with their work, and perhaps, even a little bit lonely. The humans were far too weak to be called the equal to this creator in any facet of measurement. So, to stem this loneliness, the creator made other beings. The creator called these "gods", and they granted them all the gift to create, just as the creator could, and authority over the humans. Instead of food and water, these gods lived off the energy produced by their hearts, which were stars, and the faith of the humans they governed."

"Some of these beings were based off of the animals and plants that the creator made, some looked like a mix of humans and other beings, but most were created from the frame of the humans. They were as numerous as there were things on Earth, and even beyond that. There were easily 100 gods to every human."

"However, out of all of these creations, the creator's magnum opus was one fashioned, perhaps fittingly, in the likeness of himself."

"The creator was so proud of this creation that they named it the lord of the one thing in this universe with nigh unlimited potential. His name was the Father, as in the Father of Humans." The other person stopped suddenly, clenched their hands, and sank their nails into the cloth of their brilliant white robe. After a moment, they let out a shaky breath and continued.

"On the ninth day, the Creator became the Destroyer."

"I do not know why they did it. I do not know what caused them to do it. But in just one day, they destroyed everything they had built in the last eight. They killed, they slaughtered, and they destroyed the plants, the humans, and the earth. They cut down even the gods they had created just one day prior without a second thought. And when the dust had settled, only the Father, Father of Humanity, stood in the weakened Destroyer's path. Standing amidst the sea of bodies, the Father fought the Destroyer, and the Destroyer fought the Father, each fighting the one whom they considered the closest to a rival in terms of power that either would ever know.

"Eventually, by some miracle, the Father cast down the Destroyer. But the damage had already been done. There was nothing left but an endless sea of bodies and oceans of blood. And so, not knowing what to do, the Father knelt down, next to the body of the Destroyer, and mourned. And that was the ninth day." The other person's eyes were cast downwards, with a immense surge of emotions hidden behind each.

"After the ninth day, the Father took up the mantle of Creator in his brother's stead, and began work on the New World. For the first step, in order to pay respects to all those who fell in the war against the Destroyer, the Father began to remove the cores of their hearts - The stars. After removing a seemingly infinite amount of these cores from each and every one of the fallen, the Father scattered them into the universe. Far into the corners of space, he spread them, until the veil called 'night' was illuminated almost as brightly as the day. And then, he began to work on the New World. For seven days, he worked on this pale imitation, this distraction from what once was. On the seventh day, although it was not in his abilities to recreate his brethren, he could did what he could; Thus, he allowed the stars in the sky to descend upon the earth to seek out human souls to inhabit."

The other person laughed. All the warmth that was held in his demeanor not even a second ago was gone.

"You know, I still have no idea whether or not that worked. It was a desperate attempt made by a desperate being to see the faces of his family and friends again. But regardless." They breathed out a sigh, then continued.

"For many years, the Father watched the new humans roam the earth, occasionally interfering wherever he saw fit. But a feeling of regret kept eating at him, a persistent feeling that the Father eventually gave in to. He returned to the First World, where the body of the Destroyer lay broken, albeit healing, atop the field of ruin. The Father, then, created a seed. He planted this seed at the head of the Destroyer, the seed of a strong and mighty tree, in remembrance of his dear friend."

The last words of his story rang hollow through the room. The other person - the Father - breathed a heavy sigh.

"So, do you remember now?"

It returned to him in a flood.

The joy of creating.

The pride in seeing all that he made, the wholeness, the indescribable but altogether comforting feeling he felt when he was with the person sitting in front of him now. And the feeling of a sorrow, pure and unadulterated, trickling down onto his face as they finally stopped him.

He - the Destroyer, the former Creator - nodded. He opened his mouth to speak. But the only thing that came out were tears.

God embraced his creator as they both slowly dissolved into a brilliant white light, and left this existence behind. Perhaps, a few tears were shed by him as well.

.....

Centuries passed.

Then millennia.

Then eons.

.....

Mortals, all but temporary specks upon the surface of the New World, grew and flourished. Just like they did before, in the First World. Developing societies, technologies. Experiencing all that reality had to offer. And eventually, when the time came, the stars - the cores of the old Gods - descended.