The Book of Archon

This feeling, this need to have someone like him, drove him harder than ever before into his experiments.

After decades of gruelling work and endless failed attempts, after faltering time and time again and growing ever closer to losing all hope of success, finally…he had created life. Glorious, bountiful life.

His first “children” were a small crop of gods, only a son and a daughter, who grew into themselves quickly, in only a mere thousand years they were fully grown and in mastery of their powers.

Of course that time passed in the blink of an eye for them, but it had given their Father time to construct a homestead for them. It was a village of sorts, only three buildings in a row, small and quaint with thatched roofs and white rock walls.

The village sat somewhere in the middle of one of Hyperion's great plains. A grassy flatland area that seemed to stretch thousands of miles into the horizon laid the foundation for the blossoming homestead, it was enough, for now.

The Maker's daughter, Inala, goddess of the wind and sky, watched over Hyperion’s weather. Observing and controlling its fluctuations between stormy skies and clear sunny days, it's summer and it's winter.

She became, later in life a tall, tan skinned woman with flowing silver hair that reached down to just above her waist topped with a small golden tiara of leaves and branches. She wore long robes of almost silver colour that seemed to flow endlessly in the winds that surrounded her.

And then there is The Maker's son, Aluric. God of the earth and stone, he watched over the shifting of the continents, the rising of mountains and the formation of the great canyons.

He was a large man, once grown of course, with deep grey almost stone coloured skin, he had no hair and wore bulky leather clothing over his already hulking form.

But for now, the future gods were simply two beautiful babbling children, scurrying around their lives and playing with their father.

For the first time in The Maker's existence he felt content, he watched his children play in Hyperion's fields, watching as they were slowly growing into powerful Gods in their own right.

In time The Maker began to feel an intense need for the creation of more children, to finally satiate his need for companionship.

"If Aluric and Inala, my firstborn, are so great and so powerful. If they are my first success…” He thought, “Then won't all my children, be so great?” The thought stuck in his head for a moment until it morphed itself into a new idea “...or greater still?”

Now it seemed there was no end to The Maker's want for more like him, to create a child as powerful as he- if not more so.

Eventually, after many, many years of toiling away to create his perfect son or daughter, The Maker had created just shy of a thousand of his children.

All great and powerful Gods of course, but their specific duties dwindled and became more niche one by one, becoming less powerful by the generation. This disappointed The Maker, He felt that his centuries of work had all been a waste.

“Am I truly destined to be alone?” He thought. of course he wasn't alone, he was surrounded by his creations, his children… and yet he had never felt more isolated.

As there was no one in his enormous family who rivalled him, who truly matched up to his power, he felt like an entirely different species to them, a separate entity to his children.

Saddened by this, The Maker began to retreat into himself, often spending large amounts simply strolling through Hyperion's empty landscapes, alone.

Running his hands through the grass and reminiscing on his days constructing the planet before him.

On one such morning while wandering through one of Hyperion's many expansive fields, the grass still wet with dew shimmering in the orange light of the day's glorious sunrise, he heard a distant noise echoing across the landscape. A piercing, horrible noise that shook him to his very core.

For the first time in his existence he felt this strange new feeling, like a rock in the base of his stomach, this feeling made his muscles tighten and the hair on the back of his neck and arms stand on end.

The Maker, first being in existence, father of the Gods and the first creature to ever feel…Fear.

The noise he heard though ordinary and uninteresting to us bore a great weight to him. For the sound The Maker had heard echoing through the fields was the distant yelping cry of a baby… a baby he had not made.

Upon hearing the infant’s cry, the sound ringing in his ears so loud he thought it must've come from within his own mind, The Maker ran.

He ran like never before as far as he could. The Maker ran across Hyperion, all the way back to the tallest peak of the tallest mountain- a place he had always felt comfort and peace since he very first set foot on Hyperion, so long ago.

He leant on a large boulder atop the peak, his chest heaving, his mind racing, the intensity of his fear finally beginning to dissipate allowing him to think clearly once more.

The Maker fell to his knees from the rock he had perched his body against, a heavy sigh escaping him as he tried to catch his breath.

“Father…?” A deep, rumbling voice spoke from behind The Maker, shattering the peaceful silence of the peak. Aluric approached his father, Inala following swiftly behind him.

“What is it Father?” Aluric asked with heavy concern, The Maker turned to face his two eldest children attempting to force a smile that he doubted masked his feelings.

“It is nothing, my son… don't worry yourself.” The Maker spoke, his insincerity fooling not even himself. “Do not lie to us Father, we know you better than any. You cannot hide your feelings from us…though this one I have never seen on you.”Aluric said, referencing The Maker's fear stricken demeanour.

The Maker heard a shakiness in Aluric’s voice though his face remained stoic, he looked past his son to Inala her face was a mirror of his own uncertainty and fear spreading across it, The Maker could see this new feeling passing from him to his children like a contagious disease, a plague.

The Maker let out a sigh realising how pointless it was to lie to his children, instead he must tell them the truth- some of it.

“We…we are not alone.” The Maker spoke with an ominous tone, “I heard something while I was out there, travelling through the plains. This…this terrible thing. And, my children, I am…”

The Maker's mind scrambled to find a word to explain a feeling no living creature had yet felt. “...afraid” the word left his mouth almost involuntarily, clawing its way up and out of his throat.

Despite having never heard it before, all three of the Gods understood its meaning. “I will venture to the plains once more. Tomorrow” The Maker said, “I will search as far as I must until I find… something. I have to.”

“Father, no!” Inala spoke for the first time, pushing past Aluric so she stood directly in front of The Maker “I wish to never see you stricken with this… this…fear again” The simple word of fear also felt to Inala like some rabid creature fighting its way out of her mouth.

“I can't allow you to go searching for whatever has done this to you, it's not right. It's… unnatural.” she said, her tone was authoritative but still didn't mask her fear.

“Inala is right, Father” Aluric added, “whatever is out there clearly has great power. We must learn more about its true nature. Together.” He spoke, almost pleadingly to The Maker,

“We have to know more before any of us tries to find it. Let alone interact with it, father!” The Maker sat for a moment, thinking, the silence thick like smoke clouding the three Gods.

The Maker knew they were right of course, it was dangerous, moronic in some ways to even consider searching for the child, but deep in his mind he knew it must be done.

“I'm sorry my children… I hear your words and I acknowledge them, but I cannot adhere to them. I will not adhere to them. I must find what is out there… alone. I will venture into the plains tomorrow, I will find what I'm looking for. For better… or worse.”

Aluric and Inala were saddened and even enraged by their Father's disregard for their concerns, but they knew he would not be swayed. All they could do was wait. Wait for whatever came back with their father.

The two Gods turned and walked, leaving their Father alone on the peak, “he's a fool” Aluric said once they were out of earshot down the mountain “whatever's out there should be left out there or… or hunted down and destroyed!”

Aluric had surprised himself with the harshness of his words. Unbeknownst to him, he was still acting under the influence of this new plague, the debilitating disease of fear that was spreading its way throughout his family.