On thoughts woven against the fabric of the world: the birth of gods.

A Treatise on the Soul part 4.

The forms of ill intent that grew most prevalent over time were jealousy, xenophobia and, the ultimate downfall of the Apes, sloth. Apes wanted to dominate. They wanted everything else to be as they see it, and made sure to impose that way upon the world. Moreover, they wanted dominance to be their birthright, something so innate in them that the mere thought of having to work at it would be thought blasphemous.

Their modifications to the world they inhabited were so profound, with their roads and cities and farms that it was as though the world itself was taking as intent the domination of the Apes.

Then came an Ape known as Meraku, a warlord of the Apes born in the southern steppes where once a jungle lay, domain to the snakes and their primate servants. Meraku was a sight to behold, standing 10 feet at the shoulder and with a maw that could tear a horse's neck in a single bite. His black eyes glowed in the darkness and his roaring speeches could be heard for miles, or so the stories say. But beyond his powerful features and impressive standing, he was the most passionate Ape there ever had been, with Purpose so ingrained into his very fabric that his very steps clapped like thunder!

Meraku was the greatest force that the Apes ever offered to the world. He conquered all the lands from sea to sea, from the peaks of the Havermain to the subterrean refuges of the Allamanti! Meraku was the greatest Emperor the world has known, and the most capable. He led his People to greatness!

And yet, true force lies within, and Meraku's greatest asset was his mate Amuru. Amuru was a weaver of fortune, as were called those who forced Purpose into sigils and the shaping of the land. Meraku's very fur she traced into a symbol with chalk and coal, and this symbol no only bound within him the purpose of greatness for which he became known, but with locks of his hair she wrote the series of intents that formed, within the very being of her Emperor and mate, the first Woven Thought, which later peoples came to call spiritual hosts and then gods.

Every word of Meraku came to be spoken in tandem with his spirit, blooming with a force unbeknownst in that day or any that followed. This spirit, a sentient being woven from the many threads upon Meraku's fur, was as powerful as thought can be. Through the warlord of the steppes, he spoke of greatness! Every moment of the First Emperor, he pushed with strength!

It is said that when Meraku slept under the gaze of the full moon, one could see its ephemeral form lying so close to him as to occupy the non-space between his mate and him, whispering in his ear. Every move he made, every breath he took, Amuru's creation followed and empowered.

Within a decade Meraku was Emperor, and so Amuru wove other thoughts into the fabric of the world. The well at the center of the world's capitol, Haraket, was first given sentience. Its greater Purpose was to bring life and water to the world, and into its very Essence Amuru wove her timeless wisdom, to be parted to all who called for the well and sent it their wishes.

So it was that, whisper after whisper of mendicants wishing for money, power or happiness moved the very fabric of the Woven Thought of the Well of Haraket beyond its original design towards an infinitely complex spiritual host capable of thinking far beyond the wishes of Amuru...

Treatise on the Soul part 3

So it was that Purpose began manifold, reflecting in a myriad of ways the desires of those complex creatures who could will it into objectives varied but simple, such as Dominance, Freedom, Lust, Procreation, Feeding, Drinking, Health and physical fitness.

Farms, villages and cities were built as large canvases to bring forth Purpose into specific directions and objectives. Dominance, and the freedom from the tyranny of other predators, was the main theme guiding the conception of places that were carved larger and larger as the centuries passed.

On the local level, although the design of the farms themselves tamed the land, locals held into greater esteem the more concrete goals of the well, the home and the village gathering house where villagers gathered for support and comfort in a world still dreadful.

As the basic needs for survival were met, other inspirations grew within the minds of the Apes. Amongst them, one was born mostly in the dark corners of society: ill intent. Apes, like the men we know in the modern age, put survival and procreation beyond any other purpose, with Dominance the most marked source of survival in this and, really, any world. But when survival turned matter-of-fact, when thirst could be quenched by holes in the ground that never dried up, when walls staved off wolves and bears, Apes obtained free time.

And Ape, like Man, tends to brood when caught within the grasp of endless time to ponder. He turns to jealousy towards his neighbour. He turns to philosophy, losing his focus the village on the real world. Coming short on threats real, he turns upon threats imagined. He who does not share his taste for a meal, the color of his pelt or the village of his birth has to be hiding something, for nobody would choose so poorly as to differ from oneself.

People today view evil as a unique force of malice pervading and corrupting all it touches. The truth, especially in that time, is far more complex. A hundred billion objectives, most petty and unrelated, built up over decades and centuries of accumulating leisure time. All objectives of ill intent were so unique and unrefined that none could be given a proper name. Thus, no ill intent could be generalized, and only petty squabbles dimmed the prospects of a perfect future eternal for the Apes.

Then stroke the first Downfall of the Apes: conformity. For an Age hamlets grew into villages which grew into burgs which grew into towns which grew into cities. Tribes grew into nations which grew into empires. Families grew into households. Throughout the centuries whence it occurred, the Apes proudly became more powerful, more decisive, more dominant. The pride of the best amongst them swayed large swathes of land under their glory, and naught was seen in progress but unrelenting advancement!

Every time a family was taken into a household, an identity was lost at the profit of a larger entity. Every time a tribe joined a nation, or was beaten down by one, a portion of the Apes' variety and greatness vanished. In time, the Apes lost the unique techniques of thousands of skilled craftsmen, sigil workers and warriors in favor of the strongest technique of the time. In their unity was strength, but also their fallibility, for if one thing could overpower an Ape, than that thing could overpower all Apes.

And so it did.

To be continued in part 4.

NaNoWriMo

I subscribed to NaNoWriMo recently. 

For those who haven't heard about it yet, NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month. NaNoWriMo gives its participants a challenge: write a 50'000 words novel within a month. You have the right to research beforehand, but writing must take place wholly between Nov 1 and Nov 30. 

I am doing this because, now that I've started, I realized that with the full support of my fiancee whom I love with all my heart, I really want to become an author. In the last months, I have spent quite a bit of time preparing to write, attempting the beginning of a story that didn't pan out and taking what I assumed would be a boring novella to a level of preparation that I think I can make very good, in due time. I am devising what I believe to be a high-quality original mythology, which is so hard to do when comparing to the naturally-selected myths that survived to this day (http://les-chemins-obscurs.blogspot.com/2011/09/mythologie-passion-et-ecriture.html).

So now that I believe in myself fully, I've invested in a laptop (cannot do NaNoWriMo without a laptop), subscribed to the contest and decided I need to put out a first draft, if only to see what it feels like. It is very possible that I will reject the whole damned thing at one point and start over, but I'd rather do that now than later, with years of preparing stuff that just don't work once applied in a novel. 

If anybody wants to add me to their NaNoWriMo buddy list, my username is Gamashire.

Treatise on the Soul part 2

Let us continue with the Treatise on the Soul where we started last night.

I recommend reading the previous post before this one for new readers.

So the Apes became dominant, and free, and desirable. They found purpose aplenty, and grew to become a society, and later a host of societies.

So life passed on from generation to generation, until Magisters realized that not only could Purpose be directed using sigils, but it could also be made to manifest directly through matter and energy. As bits and pieces of the world could become rife with planned intent, the Apes thought, and that planned intent could be made to serve the Apes, domination of the world could become eternal, and never be flexed away from them like it was flexed away from the predators of old.

That was the idea anyway.

The Apes had a working knowledge of sigils and influence between matter and Purpose, but their theoretical understanding of such phenomena was scarce at best. The Apes understood that they could influence the intention and purpose of the land itself, and of all that dwelt on it, but something else had escaped their notice: Purpose brought with it thought. Once manifested into the world, the Purpose that the apes had summmoned began forming into full-fledged intelligences, almost beyond their control. These beings became known as spiritual hosts.

All of those intelligences were friendly to the apes, as they were made to be by their creators, but they were their own purpose, as is the way of such things. In a world defined by the apes and for the apes, the newly-formed spiritual hosts had no take on dominance. The cities, the farms and the countryside had all been designed as sigils to direct Purpose towards the dominance of the Apes, and as they were, even without the help of spiritual hosts, their mastery could not be challenged inside their domain.

Thus, the spiritual hosts concocted a plan, unknown to their masters, to bring their own Purpose of dominance in favor of themselves. Through millenia Purpose had been shaped into the concept of dominance, and thus the spiritual hosts were like avatars of dominance, and this shaped their actions.

In assistance to the Apes, they advised the construction of a Capitol at the centre of the world, with roads of brimstone converging towards the capitol, focusing a flow of aether towards it, as a means to bring the whole world even more under their control. Unbeknownst to the Apes, the treacherous spiritual hosts had another plan altogether with these constructions.

The brimstone roads and the cathedral built in the centre or the World Capitol were meant to reshape the Apes themselves into something else. When all constructions were done, the spiritual hosts began a chant which infused a bit of their Purpose straight into the Apes. The Apes became amalgams of beast and spirit. The Apes were twisted in a grotesque demeanor in the process, shedding all their skin and losing a lot of their strength. Ape had become Man. The world was still mostly theirs, but their age-old sigils ensured them not their dominance as they did the apes, allowing the will of the spiritual hosts to become dominant.

On this day, the traitorous hosts took on a new name so as to redefine their Purpose. They renamed themselves Gods.

Later aspects of this mythology will be revealed in later articles.

Author's note: I do realize that I have not named people, places or spirits yet, so the story is not yet personal. I have gone straight to the cosmology itself, because I was mostly worried about the originality of that part of my world. Personalizing this mythology can very well be performed afterwards.

Treatise on the soul

This is part 1 of my attempt at creating a cosmology that is both unique and interesting for the story I'm working on. My plan was to find a definition of the soul, and an origin for humanity, that differs from most fantasy novels, and rely on the logical consequences of these setting elements to remain original.

I would really like to know what you all think.

The world was once a planet ruled by purely physical forces, devoid of mysticism and purpose. Rocks roiled and tumbled, thunder crashed upon the hills, water flowed into the cracks of the world, plants covered the world and fire occurred where a spark would light it up. Their was magnificence only as a result of chance, and nothing in the world would recognize it.

Purpose itself existed as a presence in the world, that later scholars would call aether or ephemera, but without anything to define objectives, it was void of meaning and direction. It was the greatest dichotomy of all: purpose was pointless, in and of itself. Then, millenia before the coming of Man, predation moved the world in a glorious dance and stirred as the hunt became meant to feed, and meaning became intention. With intention, purpose was taking shape, a new force upon the world. Predators now desired.

So it was that the predators of the world drew to them Purpose like the twin moons draw upon them the waters of the world. Purpose, during these millenia, gathered in the concepts of dominance, as those predators that thrived were the ones who could dominate the others, and all lesser animals were either killed or weakened in spirit.

The world was dominated by prides of lions and packs of wolves, while the seas were the domain of sharks and orca, relentless predators all. The prey animals reigned supreme in a world seemingly made for them, and while they lacked fine object manipulation, they could use paw and claw to trace sigils and glyphs throughout the world that called upon the aether, protecting their havens from rivals and draining the will of prey and foe alike. Their preys became will-less animals bred only for slaughter.

A mistake of the jungle snakes turned around their world. The snakes were the dominant species in the jungles, and the apes were enthralled beneath them. Their dead skins would be left in the forms of the sigils which made the land theirs, and all that walked upon their jungles along with it. The snakes had discovered, however, that apes had the hands to use rocks and branches when needed, and left them enough freedom to use them in service to their reptilian masters.

Slowly, apes rebelled. No snake realized it, but very slowly, the apes started using those branches to move around the shed serpent skins just enough to disrupt their enthralling effect. As the sigils were disrupted, more and more apes became able to act under their own will, and the more autonomous they became.

When the First Revolt thundered throughout the jungles, the apes were already using sharp rocks tied to sticks, and the snakes could do nothing but hide or die. The desire for freedom sent a shock-wave through Purpose, severing its long-standing uniformity towards domination and breaking into a myriad of possible desires. This failure of the serpents ever branded them as traitors to the animal kingdom, a sobriquet even contemporary men remember.

Unable to react appropriately, the wolves and lions and crocodiles clung to the old ways of the hunt, but nothing could compare to the infinite desires of the apes, nor with their tools which became ever more sophisticated. Purpose grew into the complex web of possibilities that only men can fathom, taking myriad forms outside of the physical world's reach, mirroring, being, and feeding upon the intentions of the apes.

Those myriad intended purposes sometimes grew into larger currents of Purpose, but every ape also drew alongside it a mirrored set of desires in the aether. This set of desires is commonly referenced as a soul.

Just as sigils could control flows of Purpose in the old times, or animate forms of matter could turn pointless Purpose into a directed flow of desire that became souls, so did the apes manage to use patterns to direct the flows of aether in the other world. The drawing of a breeding pen or a city follows the same principles, an occult and oft-forgotten manner of controlling the flows of Purpose, and thus the very desires of people and animals, were penned according to the directions set in the stones and water channels. Apes made the land theirs in this way, every hamlet and every farm the mystical binding force turning the Purpose of the land into the service of the Ape.

So lived the land and Ape within it, for generations and centuries, ever expanding into the territory of the dominant predators of old.

Ape grew in abundance and power unabated, unchallenged and unsurprising, until Magisters learned that Purpose and Desire could be summoned into this world to inhabit, were a Magister skilled enough to bring him forth. But that is a story for another time.

Here it is folks, part 1 of the cosmology for the world I am creating.

What do you all think?

Uniqueness in mythology

Here comes a phrase too often heard in a host of works dubbed "medieval fantasy":

"This is inspired by Tolkien".

Here then comes the most common answer to demands of originality, from people fed up by Tolkien's mythology:

"This isn't Tolkien. We are copying Howard instead."

In the same way, every horror writer is inspired by either Wes Craven nowadays, with some Lovecraft thrown in the mix. Similarly, every vampire story takes its roots in Bram Stoker or Anne Rice's works, save perhaps Josh Whedon's series.

Why in the world are we unable to create new and compelling mythologies? Why can't we break from those molds? What is the process required to break away from those molds? Are there not myriads of possible mythologies that could inspire breakthroughs in storytelling? I'm stuck myself in this conundrum, for although the core of the story I'm writing is very promising, and the behind-the-scenes aspects of my mythology is somewhat rarely found in stories, the visual impact of my mythology reeks of "I've played too much WoW/D&D".

I want the world-beyond-the-world in my writings to be unique. I have to stare at Neil Gaiman's The Sandman for hours just to convince myself that it is possible.

The difficult part in this is that recipes, by definition, cannot create something wholly new.

So I ask all my readers: how do you manage to create newness and uniqueness in a mythology? Do you even attempt it? And as readers, do you care?

I will attempt originality in a new cosmology, which works within the world I am crafting for my stories. But before I write out my attempts here, I would love it if one of you could answer the questions above, for yourselves, without any bias interfering through my exposed attempts.

Why everybody slept with everybody.

Exhaustion and overtime work killed my creative juices for the last 2 months, so I took that time to read and watch good fiction instead.

Watching "A Game of Thrones" made me realize an unrealistic component of most good fiction: characters, even ones living halfway across the world, tend to have way more back-story to their relationship than they should realistically have. 

I wasn't doing that at all before, and I now realize that I was wrong. 

This back-story provides an essential part of the fiction you are writing: it makes the characters love or hate each other with unbridled passion. Spectators (and actors, for LARPs/Interactive Theater) will mostly care about characters if the characters themselves are passionate about each other. 

So, if you write a story about 2 war leaders trying to decimate each other's peoples, don't just make them hate each other because they're racist. Have the first protagonist's sister married to the other in the past, and then executed for adultery.

If you want protagonists to bond, they could discover they're brothers and sisters (like Kira and Cagalli from Gundam Seed) or fall in love with relatives (Harry Potter and Ginny, Ron and Hermione). Or maybe the grandfather of one of them had enslaved the other's grandmother, and although that is officially water under the bridge, the 2 protagonists will have a tension that will never let loose, and explode whenever you, as a writer, need it to.

Soaps have run on this stuff for decades, and Opera for centuries. 

If you need convincing, I offer this challenge: read Frank Herbert's Dune, then read Isaac Asimov's Foundation. Notice how dry Asimov's writing is. It is purely intellectual, it is ripe with the ideas of a genius, it is prophetic in many ways (e.g. miniaturization), it is a masterpiece, yet it is extremely hard to give a damn about any of it. Characters don't really care about anyone, so we, as readers, don't either.