Allow me to tell you the story of the Father and Mother of the Aeternal Empire.
Allow me to tell you a story.
A long time ago, before all eight million Deities dominated the land and the sky, before even the lands of Xia, and Baekje, and even Hinomoto were raised from the Dark Sea, there was Nothing. This Nothing was devoid of any color, and was devoid of any heat, devoid of any of the five elemental substances. Nothing contained Nothing. And yet, all that was, is, and will ever be would burst from within Nothing. Because Nothing was the universal Fool, from Which all Potential is born.
And thus, said Potential was born.
This birth is a mystery; we know not how or when it happened, for no witnesses could possibly exist. What we do know is that it gave birth to the Two Primordial Beings. Two beings that were All and also None, who were so ancient they were born before names were given to all things, and so we know them only by the titles bestowed to them by their future actions: The Firstborn, both Brother and Husband, is known as He Who Will Be Forgotten, and the Secondborn, both Sister and Wife, is known as She Who Will Never Forget.
The two spent an eternity by each other’s side, learning, embracing, growing deeper, because as Nothing only contained the two, there was no one nor no thing else they could spend time with. And so, love was given and received, and soon She Who Will Never Forget became pregnant, bearer of the First True Child. Yet, the First True Child was not to become the first of all eight million Deities, for he was born lifeless. Such was the pain of the delivery, and such was the pain of having to hold the lifeless child, not a cry nor a laugh nor even a burp to extinguish the silence of Nothing, that She Who Will Never Forget’s eyes watered for the first time, and she cried and cried. So potent was her grief that her tears managed to bore into the body of the First True Child, eroding him into a perfect sphere, the salty tears fully covering him. And her desire for life was so strong still that wake algae grew from the bottom of the Tear Sea, and the dungeness crab came to eat the algae, and the opabinia came to eat the crab, and the whale shark came to eat the opabinia. And She Who Will Never Forget realized that her child still lived, not by himself, but through his body that allowed life to be created, and the Two Primordial Beings chose to begin living within his body, in order to be together with their first child, and away from Nothing. And in this manner the Zeroth Child came to be, and his name was Chonen, the Place-Son, and it is here that all life has continued to prosper; the place all men call home.
Life underwater was quite similar to living amid Nothing, and so the pair continued with their courtship of love: There were songs, and there were caresses, and hugs, and deep kisses, and so She Who Will Never Forget became pregnant with a daughter. This daughter was invisible to the eye, and immaterial to the touch, and She Who Will Never Forget believed she had lost another child at first, but then she heard her sings and laughter, and realized that being born amid the Tear Sea had turned her Second True Child into waves, and sand, and foam. Her name would thus become Suijō, the Waves-Daughter.
She Who Will Never Forget had her first child, but was born death, and then had her second child, but was born akin to Nothing, and grew depressed, for all she could create was dead and broken, and although Waves-Daughter tried to comfort her, she was unable to be aided, and cried and cried, raising the Sea levels, and leading to earthquakes and volcanoes that threatened Place-Son’s stability. Because of this, He Who Will Be Forgotten proposed a plan, and soon, they had a third child. This child’s name, no one knows, for as soon as he was born, He Who Will Be Forgotten took him by the neck and squeezed down, such that his body was broken and mangled, then rehashed to become Kanen, the Blaze-Son, the Artificial Fire, and Third True Child. And as soon as he came to be, he fell apart as a great explosion took place within him: An explosion of pain at being torn apart, an explosion of ire at being born imperfect, an explosion of desire at needing to give his own life to please his parents. The explosion was strong enough that it cracked the Place-Son, and massive sharpened mountains raised from the seas, forming the continents, each country and each kingdom, and the empty spaces left behind became the great rifts, the aquatic volcanoes, and the sea palaces.
The Father beamed with pride at his work, but took not into account how much pain losing another child would cause the Mother. She had cried so much that no tears ran down her cheeks, but was still distraught, and chose not to move, remaining in place like a lifeless puppet, for that way, she could not be hurt any more. The Father took her into the newly created continents, and tried to cheer her up, showing her the insects and the plants and the animals born from this last event, but she would not listen. Amid protests and concessions, the fourth child was born: Another invisible daughter, who could only run, never stopping for a moment, and wherever she ran, the pollen and the birds followed, and wherever she placed her feet, flowers would bloom, and harvest would grow. The Mother then recovered from her pain and flourished like the plants under her daughter’s command. This is why her name became Fūjō, the Fortune-Daughter, and together with Suijō, they created the sky and the clouds.
The world became more populated bit by bit, and amid beautiful plants and impressive animals, the Fifth True Child was born. He is known as Sora, the Heavens, and seeing the hidden pain of the Mother, and the hidden cruelty of the Father, Sora ascended past the Place-Son, joining Nothing, and giving it form. It is said he became a Great Seal, separating that which Is from that which Isn’t, and so all within Place-Son became a Being, including the Two Primordial Beings, who felt more capable of expressing themselves, thanks to their last true child.
This led to a lengthy, yet ephemeral period of peace, which led to the birth of humanity. I have yet to talk about it, haven’t I? Well, Following the birth of the last of the Five True Children, the Two Primordial Beings spent their time exploring all continents, and with only one way of expressing their happiness, they continued to bear children. The sixth was the Mist-Daughter, and the seventh the Pollen-Son, and the eight the Grass-Daughter, ninth and tenth the Father and Mother of all Flowers. Slowly but surely, He Who Will Be Forgotten and She Who Will Never Forget gave birth to every single one of the eight million Deities of Hinomoto. And while the Mother was happy with their children, she was still grieving, never able to forget her first losses. The Father, watching helplessly as his wife suffered, thought up a plan. Hadn’t the death of the Blaze-Son been so perfect, so remarkable? The Father could not give birth, that he knew, but he could still shape the world, and ensure that all children of theirs were perfect, and that they accomplished their purpose. And so, He Who Will Be Forgotten set out on the mission to fix it all with his own two hands. It is said that the Goddess of the Sea Slugs and the God of all Cone Snails were stillborn, and their survival, threatened by the Father and unknown by the Mother, was only possible when the Waves-Daughter intervened, taking them far away. Similarly, the God of All Shapes and the Goddess of Eternal Illness were imperfect and were thus killed by the Father, and from their dead bodies were born all physical atrophies and all untreatable illnesses.
Eventually, the God of Clay and the Goddess of Architecture were born, and the Father, having killed a thousand Gods already, found the Clay imperfect, and set out to murder him, only for the Mother to intervene, allowing the latter to rescue the former. They would eventually fall in love with one another, their union giving birth to the clay people, the ancestors of all of humanity, who would form the first mud kingdoms. From this first lineage, the Aeternal Emperor of Hinomoto was born, but there is no point in focusing on him now. Instead, we shall go back to the Two Primordial Beings.
The Mother was furious, watching the Father trying to kill one of their children, and pushed him. The Father was furious, watching the Mother intervene in his mission that he had begun for her sake, and pushed her hard, She Who Will Never Forget falling to the ground. This fall was witnessed by all their children, and soon the Deities came to the Mother’s aid, but the father, completely out of it, began attacking them, hurting and killing indiscriminately. How could they all turn against him? Could they not see this was for their sake? How else would they become a perfect family? How else would they become a happy one?
As they fought, earthquakes and thunderstorms ravaged the land, and many animals and plants succumbed, washed away by the great waves, never to return. As she saw this, the Mother realized that the Father had crossed a line that must never be crossed, and amid tears and anger, she made a decision: The decision to make sure the Father would never be able to hurt anyone. And so, as he fought, the Mother tackled the Father, toppling him down. The Father, not expecting this, fell down, unable to react as she sat on top of him, as she grabbed his head with both hands, as she pulled hard, separating him from the rest of his body.
Without body, the Father exploded into ire, similar to the Blaze-Son, and heavily burned the Mother. The Mother quickly threw the head away, hurling him towards the sky with such strength that it joined Nothing, and became the Sun. His body immediately rushed after it, ignoring all else, and joining Nothing unprepared, quickly froze in place, and became the Moon, always after the Sun, yet never reaching it, never becoming whole.
The earthquakes subsided as all Deities calmed down to check upon their Mother, and it was here, surrounded by her loved ones that the Mother smiled towards the sky, and passed. She had overexerted herself, and having been weakened from the pregnancies and the heartbreak, she could not survive any longer. Her body, unlike the Father, made sure to finish all that was left unfinished, and gave birth to the Five Last Children she still held within her womb.
The first was the Daughter of the Night, Yebisu, who was born out of the complicated love She Who Will Never Forget still felt for the murderous Father, and eventually fell in love with Him all over again, and when the men of Xerophylla attacked Yebisu, missing their death lance and accidentally killing the Moon, Yebisu cursed the men of clay, and brought about Aeternal Night. This Deity is the most well-known today, but her story shall be told another day. We have enough of her as it is, do we not?
The second was the Son of All Shipbuilders, Hiruko, who was born out of the Mother’s desire to keep traveling the world, and is the one responsible for inspiring the building of all great fortresses able to cross the Dark Sea. He was the one responsible for bringing the men of Xerophylla to the Far Lands of Hinomoto, where the soldiers of the Fundamentum caused the Great Searing, setting the Aeternal Capitol ablaze. Since that day both the Fundamentum and Hiruko have been made to be forgotten, all his temples pilfered, his priests made fuel for the Artifice Sun, all ports and all boat factories closed forever.
The third was the Son of Volcanic Eruptions, Enen, who was born out of pure anger against the Father, and he is one we won’t talk about, lest we tempt his ire, and make the Fuji Mountain erupt like it has done before, destroying the few wards of the Capitol that weren’t destroyed by the Fundamentum.
The fourth was the Son of Honor, Giki, who was born out of the compromises the Mother made in life, made out of love for her children, for the people she felt she needed to protect. It is said that all militaries in the world pray to Giki in order to achieve victory, and it is through their honorable deeds that their outcomes are decided: Even the smallest insult can become the difference between victory and defeat. It is said that the Great Searing that claimed the lives of a third of the Capitol’s populace was caused by the lavish life the members of the Imperial Court lived, and it is said that many assassinations and massacres unknown to the common man took place in the highest echelons… Ah, but that is conjecture, is it not? Better not to anger those who would think these words blasphemy.
Finally, the fifth and last child was the Daughter of the Day, born out of the desire the Mother still had of knocking sense into the Father, for there was still love within her heart. It is said that the Daughter of the Day spent most of her time running after the Sun, trying to get him to return to the Children that needed him, yet the Father never listened, which made the Daughter of the Day fall into a deep depression, hiding inside a cave, leading to the first bout of aeternal night, and it was here that the first emperor of mankind played his part in cheering her up, the two madly falling in love with one another, becoming the August Empress and the Aeternal Emperor that to this day rule over Hinomoto, the Land of the Aeternal Sun. Or that would be the case, had they not sacrificed themselves to create the Great Artifice Sun, the last bastion against the unending night of Yebisu.
Once these Five Last Children were born, the Mother’s body slowly disappeared. No one knows where to, but many believe Sora took her in, the first to ascend into Paradise.
With no one to reign them in, all eight million Deities ravaged the land, taking and giving territories haphazardly, at a complete loss of how to proceed without Parents to need them, without a reason to exist anymore. It is said that the Five True Children, of which only two were alive and conscious enough, began developing all natural laws, and it’s because of this that the Five Elements that compose everything are what they are. Meanwhile, the God of Clay and Goddess of Architecture took the Last Five Children in and nurtured them as if they were their own children. And it is thanks to this that the first clay men learnt the difference between day and night, and built calendars that told them when to plant the grain and harvest the rice, when to pray for the dead and when to celebrate the living. And it is thanks to this that they learnt how to build boats with which to travel the seas and cast nets to catch fish and crabs. And it is thanks to this that they learnt manners and learnt how to properly fight and how to properly love. And it is thanks to this that they learnt that the best place to build their cities and capitols was at the skirts of great volcanoes, for their prayers would make sure the Great Gods would remain at peace, and only if attacked by evil beings would the volcanoes erupt, raining down justice in the shape of ash and scoria.
Thus ends the first chapter of the book of all tales.
…So? Was my rendition up to your standards, oh captor of mine?
The Storyteller finishes his tales, then stares expectantly towards the young woman in front of him, dressed in fine garbs and linen of a strong red color, with golden finishes in the shape of raging fire on sleeves and shoulders. The woman, high-ranking soldier of the Genkōkoku Confederation, simply places the last white piece on the go board, winning the game they’ve been playing while he recites his story, then grabs the teacup she’s left to the side, bringing it to her lips.
“I would prefer the term ‘companion’, rather than captor.” She says, placing the teacup back in its tray. “Would a captor teach you the language that allows you to understand our words, our texts? The language that's allowed you to prove yourself, and evade certain death?”
The Storyteller’s hands tense up, the reason behind his title flashing before his eyes. The fire, the screams, the shackles, the hunger. Then, a chance. He snaps out of it and begins picking up the black pieces from the board. “And for that, I truly am grateful, but it does not change your title. Now, if you were to teach me how to defeat you at go, then perhaps, perhaps…”
The young woman begins picking up the white pieces, a curt smile on her face. “I don’t see how that will help your sentence, captee.”
“Well, go is not othello, dear captor. It’s a game from Hinomoto, and nowhere else does it exist.”
“That I know, yes.” The soldier allows the Storyteller to continue.
“Well, if I am to prove that I am no longer a man of Xerophylla, of the Fundamentum, and that I’ve chosen to be reborn in the fires of Hinomoto, embraced by the Aeternal Emperor’s Artifice Sun… Then wouldn’t it make sense not only to learn and showcase your stories and lessons, but also your customs, no? Your games?”
The young woman places a hand on her chin. “Hmmmm, a fair argument, bile-turd.” She says, an insult he himself had taught her being turned his way. “I might consider lending you books on go strategy, if General Hishakaku allows for it.”
The Storyteller’s smile falters for a moment, another disagreeable memory resurfacing. “I’m sure we can reach an agreement without his intervention.”
“He is my superior, captee. Even if he greatly dislikes you…”
“Quite the understatement, captor-.”
“Even then, he allowed you to prove yourself better than a murderer and a savage. Better than a burning corpse in the making. I’d say that’s quite generous of him.” The young woman says, before getting up. “Shall we play another round of go while you repeat the first chapter? You can be the white pieces this time.”
“Oh, not up to your standards, in the end?” The Storyteller asks, turning to the side, eyeing the book granted to him, where the stories of a thousand thousand years of the Kingdom of the Aeternal Sun had been collected and edited.
“You have failed to impress me once again, captee. You are continuously improving, however. That I can admit.” The young woman smiles, before pulling out a small card from her sleeve, which, alongside the right incantation (参百壱拾:永久焔) is enough to create a small flame she uses to heat up a kettle for the tea. “You keep pronouncing Chōnen as Chonen, however. He is the earth you walk over, the clay from which all of us were born. A mistake like that will have you thrown into the Artifice Sun.”
“That I know…” The Storyteller sighed, placing the last black piece back in its receptacle, before getting up as well, stretching his legs and, as the Confederation soldier prepares the tea, he looks out the only window of his room; past the prison he resides in, past the shantytowns and riverside factories, past the barracks and the red-light districts, past the Imperial Palace, and looks over the Artifice Sun. The Million-Corpses Sun. The Last Imperial Child. The stage which he’ll tell the history of the kingdom from. Then, he looks past even that, past the unending night, past the blood moon, past the black sea it reflects into, towards the ports of Evropa. Towards Xerophylla, his true home.
“Ready to continue?” The young woman sits back down, filling up their two cups with barley tea.
“Of course I am.” The Storyteller forgets the then, and returns to the now, sitting back down. He takes a sip from his cup, then places the first white piece.
“Allow me to tell you a story.”
