Ogun was enraged by both the petty theft and arrogance of the young god and drew together every spec of dust that cast a shadow. He combined this mass to form the first planet and mocked Siforr from where his light could not reach.

Weary of her brother’s conceit, Emitaf wove a net of clouds and lighting around the planet, summoning a year of storms that drowned rock and stone beneath miles of ocean.

Ather was delighted by these waters but missed singing along the peaks of his brother’s mountains. He raced along the sea with arms spread wide, parting the water and dredging the seabed so Ogun might once again see the stars. Shaken from his watery slumber, the God of Earth grew his lands ever taller until they towered above ocean once more.

Most of the planet remained water, and Ius danced on these oceans, his ivory skin gleaming in the sun’s brilliance. His dancing was nearly as beautiful as himself, and he entranced the gods long enough for him to siphon off a bit of each of their divinity.

He used this stolen power to draw an alien body, dense and obscure, far from beyond the sun’s watchful light. Ius choked the skies with clouds, concealing the meteor’s approach, and sent the twisted mass of ore and rock crashing into the planet. The catastrophic impact evaporated the oceans and toppled mountains as the meteor carried straight through the earth, exploding from the opposite side in a raging mass as white and hot as the sun. When this ball cooled, it formed the moon.

As the moon settled and storms returned oceans to the earth, Yala brought life to the planet in wild, reckless abundance.

Every kind of flower, plant, and tree took root. Every type of fish, whale, and serpent splashed into the sea. Every creature that walked upon and flew above the land now poured over it. Yala saw all this and gave no pause.

Instead, the God of Life set about combining what she had made. Owls that were also bears, horses that took flight upon feathered wings, and great dragons who could assume any form and weather any height or depth.

The gods paused their bickering as they marveled upon the chaotic wonder Yala wrought. Then they too forged life from this new world.

The elves came first, emerging from the roots of the vast Ironwood as their massive canopies captured divinity from the Weave and birthed the first wild elves as their eternal defender. They were born under the light of the moon and were thus claimed by Ius. The God of the Moon was delighted by the elves and danced with them, gifting them divine beauty and long life.

The grandsons of Ogun (God of Earth), Kalos (God of Invention) and Rapel (God of Magnetism), sought to replicate this divine birth. They combined magic with their divinities and forged the first dwarves out of rock and stone. The other gods saw these new beings as crude and ugly compared to the elves and chased them back into the mountains of their birth. This rejection made the dwarves bitter towards the other races of mortals and set them on a path for centuries of conflict.

When the first tribe of elves stole magic from the dwarves to counter their constant warring, the gods were shocked by the brazen theft. They cursed the elves, drained their skin of pigment and cast them into the blasted desert. Ius fooled the gods, hiding his elves under moonlight and guiding them to the protection of the limestone cliffs they still call home.

Other races followed, but none were as prolific as the humans, hyper-evolved from apes through a century of divine meddling. The elves called these creatures “Khalkhi (KAL-key) Ogun,” or “Children of Ogun” as a mockery to their crude birth.

Over the millennia this became “Khalgun (KAL-gun),” and the first planet found her name.