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Bible of Gaia

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Book One - Chapter One: The Before

Before life and thought, in times immemorial, there were Three.

Their omnipotence was such that the universe as we know it would spring from Them.

Space was the first of the three. Ambiguous, neutral in thought and action, driven to exist merely so as to be existed in.

The second was Time. A father with indisputable power and reign, and whose only gift to the world was a touch that rendered all things ash and dust at one Time or another, without regard for intellect, talent, prestige or capability.

The third, a gentler spirit. Less expansive than the other two - Time and Space could be found in all Wheres and all Whens, but Gaia, Life itself, was scarcer. As subtle as a spring breeze through an endless meadow but by far the most important of the Three for our purposes. For it is from here that all life is brought into being, from whence all thought and all feeling flows, from whom all hearts find their rhythm.

"Is this all there is to be? Is this what we have condensed ourselves to? Are we to spend all of Is merely as we are? Alone but for our own company?"

These words were the warmest, sweetest honey, effervescing with compassion and concern in a way that could not be contained by the cages of words. It was a voice of purest emotion that could make mountains weep, part seas, dim or polish the stars.

"And why should We not be alone, as We are? Why complicate our beings with anything more than the purest of Is? Anything that we could make would be smaller than ourselves and more imperfect. There are none that are like Us and that is the way it must always be. Are you unhappy the way you are, Gaia?"

This voice diametrically opposed the one that came before it. If Gaia gave life with her words, this voice took it away. It offered only depths eternal and timeless that could not be ascertained by the mortal mind. To this voice emotion was irrelevant and served no function other than to dull or oppose lucid being.

"It matters not to me." Came the third voice, wholly alien. If Gaia ran hot, and Time cold, then Space was neither. It was empty. It was void. "though I suppose they would have to live inside of me. There is nowhere else. That, may be nice."

The tone and pace of the conversation suggested that it had taken place several times before. Perhaps an infinity of times. Or perhaps it was the first and last time, and their omniscience relegated each to the role of puppet whose strings were plucked by the marionette of their very own purpose, seeing the conversation unfold eons ago and marching along to the inevitable.

"Enough." Gaia spoke. "We argue, but you cannot stop my creation any more than I can stop your destruction."

A pause, that could have been a second long or a thousand years squandered for all that it mattered to these beings that transcended all conception.

"Fine. Let it be done then. But I am the equalizer. My reign Is, and will Always Be. All things, all things, must fall in time."

"They shall. I will make my children of Dirt and Earth and Mud, and I will make their protectors of Stone and Metal. All must fall, but at different rates."

"I wish to add," Came the Third. "That they may know my secrets but will not be born with that knowledge. And you two shall not become despots of their lives. They must be allowed to choose - without freedom then this is a game that does not interest me."

"So. Let it be done." The three voices converged upon a single thought and, in a single moment, there was All.

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Book One - Chapter Two: Creation

"Let it be done."

And with that singular herald that articulated Creation into the Void, there was All.

The shatter of the null was its mark, the crack of Nothing into All. Space-Time expanded at incalculable speeds and encapsulated infinity. Some say that here infinity cracked, web-like tendrils isolated pockets of eternity from one another. Learned men would come to call these Planes or Realms, speculating isolated realities and falling captive to the illusion of Separation.

"And now. Now I breathe."

If one could translate unthinkable splendor into human anatomy, then now a poet would describe a smile that shone with the brilliance of an ivory sun. Gaia flowed through Space-Time and touched each of those eternal pockets. First She crafted Galaxies, then shaped Solar Systems, then chiseled Planets and filled those planets with Life.

Gaia's imagination was fertile and She made life of a type and variety without limit. When She was done creating, Gaia observed. Her beings were made, and remained as they were, moving through life listlessly – alive but not filled with life.

"Ah yes. Truly, nicely done." No small amount of insolence could be detected and measured in those words. He was not done. "Now, I affirm my reign."

The Father spoke and stretched His mighty hand out to cover the All. Up until this point time itself was nonexistent. Nothing was truly alive because nothing could be truly dead. The beings merely floated through existence, unbound and unchained, navigating a labyrinth in the cold dark without hands or eyes. True Immortality.

Without perception there was no time – without time, no perception.

"I wasn't done."

Poetry in motion. If these things had existed, Her movements would have inspired art, music, dance, good food, the smell of rain on clean earth, and all good things. Her beings had life, space within which to grow, eyes with which to see and light by which to see by. And now they had purpose. They had life and were alive. In the eons to come the beings would call this many things. Would know it as the shadows of fear and the warmth of love, the waters of peace and the pitfalls of anxiety, but a drive to live and soak up experience and do and be was all it could be said to be.

(Editor's Note: The following is widely recognized as an apocryphal addition to modern Gaianism as introduced by Odin Haze.)

Many thousands of millions of years lapsed; trillions of cultures sprang into being and leapt into ash. So many of them falling before every reaching their potential as a species. From her boundless largess came kind pity. Gaia Let There Be Light. She reached out to Her chosen protectors, turned their Stone to Crystal and planted golden seeds into their hearts and minds. She made of them beacons, so that they could light the Path.

When his time eventually came, Saint Odin was said to have shone brightest of all.

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Book Two - Chapter One: The Tribunal and the Triad

(Editor's Note: The following is widely recognized as an apocryphal addition to modern Gaianism as introduced by Odin Haze.)

Infinite in Her capacity, Gaia takes many shapes and forms and influences all of Her creations in ways myriad and subtle beyond understanding. Over each Biosphere, She has appointed guardians and proxies. Book Two deals with the guardians of Valucre.

There is the Tribunal, the eternal beings that existed out-of-sync with mortal perception and reality. The Watcher, whose sole purpose is to watch and record all events. The Judge, whose sole duty is to weight the heart of all things that die against a single flower petal and determine who is free of sin. And the Executioner, whose sole purpose is to deliver punishment to those marked with evil deeds.

Beneath them, three more were created.

These are the Triad, the physical incarnation of forces beyond mortal wielding. They are the Wyld (or Chaos or Anarchy or Random), the Weaver (or Order or Static or Structure), and the Wyrm (or Entropy or Death or Final).

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Book Two - Chapter Two: The Wyld (Chaos | Anarchy | Random)

The Wyld is creation. The Wyld is pure change. The Wyld is chaos, is elemental transmutation. The Wyld is a constant riot of change, adaptation, evolution, and random expression. It is alive with possibility, it is possibility itself. Every ant and tree contains within its spirit an aspect of this chaos.

The Wyld is the least capable of being conceived by a mortal mind and so is the least personified of the Triad. Its constant mutation precludes true form or nature and, of the three Triad, has the most symbols to represent it.

The Wyld is a complete entity but without its counterparts it has no frame of reference and its creations lose form as they spawn, returning to the primal forge simultaneous with the moment of birth. The Weaver is what gives structure and permanency to the Wyld's creative capabilities.The Wyrm is also essential to the Wyld because the Wyrm destroys select aspects of the Weaver's static web, returning now uncreated matter back to the Wyld for reuse and rebirth.

In the Spirit analog to the physical reality, the Wyld has the potential to be the most powerful member of the Triad given its creative attributes. No assailant can even near the Wyld lest it risk being overtaken by and turned into primordial protoplasm upon contact.

In the physical world however, the Wyld is the least powerful, as it is the Weaver's structure that allows the Wyld creation to manifest on a level allowing mortal interaction and it is the Wyrm's entropy that eradicates it. Only a few scattered sites of pure Wyld energy exist. These are rumored to be known only to and guarded by 'crystal guardians', blessed saints and their ilk such as the saint-king Odin Haze himself.

(Editor's Note: The following is widely recognized as an apocryphal addition to modern Gaianism as introduced by Odin Haze.)

A large sect of Gaianists venerate the Wyld, seeing it as a symbolic parallel to their struggle against the ever-present shadow of Evil.

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Book Two - Chapter Three: The Weaver (Order | Static | Structure)

From the endless creation of the Wyld, the Weaver selects parts and sections of inundation and wraps them in a grid of Order and Structure, so that they may keep their form.

With form comes growth and progress. Meaning is imposed on the meaningless. The Weaver placed a web around the whole of creation and gave it form and Structure.

(Editor's Note: The following is widely recognized as an apocryphal addition to modern Gaianism as introduced by Odin Haze.)

Upon their birth from the Mother Gaia, the Triad were in perfect balance with one another in the Spirit and Physical world. Without warning or explanation, after an eternal time of existence, of Structuring what the Wyld creates and what the Wyrm must eventually destroy, the Weaver gains Will and derails the cosmic plan.

Some derivative Gaianists speculate that the Weaver was power-hungry and sought to snare everything in Structure for all time, sealing up both Wyld and Wyrm in her web, unable to influence her Order. This resulted in the Wyld retreated to the Spirit World, the Wyrm unleashing its full rage on all of creation with all three of its heads, and the Weaver gone insane.

It is also speculated that the Unnatural are born of the Weaver, eternally locked in stasis and False Immortality. Most agree that the Weaver was the first of the Triad to gain conscious awareness of lower beings and seek to influence them with her power. Whether this is what drove her mad or was a product of her madness remains unknown.

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Book Two - Chapter Four: The Wyrm (Entropy | Death | Final)

The Wyrm is the last of the Triad. It was once the Restorer of Balance, ensuring that neither the Order of the Weaver nor the Chaos of the Wyld perverted reality.

The Wyrm is often theorized to be the second of the Triad to gain consciousness and turn its attention to the mortal world, following the Weaver. The Wyrm's three heads fractured into split personalities, no longer allowing it to coordinate and focus its terrifically destructive capabilities.

Where the Wyrm was once the Restorer of Balance, it is now recognized as a harbinger of the Apocalypse. Unable to destroy overtly and horribly since its split it destroys from within, consuming and corrupting those weak enough in spirit to succumb to the temptations of envy and hatred.

The Wyrm found many sentient beings weak enough to persuade into surrendering to its corruption. It now has many servants. Because its decay is in all things it is able to whisper to the dark places inside all of intelligent creatures and uses these agents to wage war against the servants of the Weaver and the Wyld.

Some spiritual pathfinders have traveled to realms wholly consumed by the Wyrm, places totally blind to Gaia's light. Those who dwell there are utterly enslaved or destroyed by their vices.

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Book Three - Chapter One : The Son

(Editor's Note: The following is widely recognized as an apocryphal addition to modern Gaianism as introduced by Odin Haze.)

It was foretold in the times before times that Gaia would choose among Her protectors a favorite and exalt him beyond the Crystal state and make him into a being of pure light-information. This One does not warrant more love from the Mother for the Mother's love is infinite and extends to all of Her creations. But this One will reside by Her right hand and will work Her miracles on the earth.

He is One who will walk among the ill and heal them, the One who will turn away the Reaper's blade, the One who will bless damned ground by walking upon it and strike down all evil. He is the One that will lay hands on the enslaved and the burdened, and will set them free. When this One nears the Unnatural their very half-flesh will shudder and burn. This One will stand on the earth and move it with Gaia's very majesty, causing it to rise and fall like his very breath.

He will be known by the working of wonders. When dormant volcanoes are kindled to life and spout their fury this One will raise his hand and obstruct its advance. He is One that will come upon a village that believes but has no reason to, that is daily plagued by the works of spirits and the chains of vice, and this One will show them why they believe.

With the sacrifice of his life this One cleanses the earth of this evil and comes to know the full grace of Gaia as no mortal has done before, transcending into light.

This One will reside there until the pains of the world move his heart and he looks onto the face of his Mother and asks to be returned, so that he may deliver them from their suffering. He is One that will come again, as a man that is changed and that changes in turn, and glows with the divine purpose.

He is One that is the Son of Gaia, the Messiah.

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Book Three - Chapter Two: The Desolator

(Editor's Note: The following is widely recognized as an apocryphal addition to modern Gaianism as introduced by Odin Haze.)

It is said that among all those brought into creation only those with the capacity for freedom so too have the capacity for good and evil. Where there is life there must be death. Where there is light so follows darkness. And where there is the Son, comes the Desolator.

It is foretold. In a town who even in this golden age of Gaia will be without Her light, whose border will always know darkness and black mist, are a people forever dark and unmoving and cold. Those that reside there are among the most evil of men and women. People cursed with ravenous hunger for flesh and knowing the curse of the Weaver. Their destiny is to consume each other until none remain. Those hapless travelers that forego the warning signs, the bloody sunsets and the keening wails, find themselves lured into a life of sin from which they can never escape.

These creatures existed but were not alive, and so could not propagate life through normal means, instead making progeny by bringing others into the Web. But back then, though no less inexorable, Fate was young and naïve. In some inexplicable manner two children of the darkness were able to give birth to a child. More surprising than this was the fact that the child born of darkness was not dark himself. He manages to escape the hold of that sepulchral village and lives a life relatively normal.

It is not the child's life that interests us. After the child's death, then a man, another man whose thirst for power rivaled the hunger of the Wyrm stole into the graveyard and pilfered the child's fleshless bones. Through dark and unknown magic he brought ersatz life to the skeletal remains. What came as a result of the lunatic's workings was the first of its kind and the caster paid no meager price to see his goal realized. Some say he gave his soul for his creation.

The man sought power and in his undead servant found an endless well of it. With the reanimated thing at his side the man was able to spread the rusty ichor of his evil and infect countless lands and peoples. But obedience from his servant was short-lived. The dead-thing grew even as his master's greed and hunger grew, until the day of the Wyld came, change occurred, the chains were broken, and the Desolator was born. His very first act of freedom was to eat his master, spit his bones back out, and make of him a slave.

Then there comes a dark age in the shadow of the Desolator. The blood he spills is an ocean. The corpses he gathers up are a mountain. His heart is laid with a crown of thorns that it may never beat without pain and, hence, without fury. The void of his soul is empty and he seeks to fill it with the shards of the broken hope and shattered faith of Her children.

And there is prophesied that a time will come when he will reap the world.

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