The First Time: Being an Account of the Creation of the World, and the Birth of the Mortal Races

Eons ago, the gods spun the world out of nothingness. From the void they created an infinitely precious jewel, blue and green and white: white of clouds, green of forests and growing things, and blue of the deep, deep sea. Having created a world, the gods moved to populate it, for what is a god without worshippers? In the deep and secret places of the world, the gods fashioned the dwarves out of earth and fire, gifting them with the resilience of stone and an unquenchable spirit. In the hidden glens, among the trees and the wild things, the gods shaped the elves out of air and water, granting them grace of mind and body coupled with untamable wildness.

For a time, all was well. But the gods were not content. Each coveted sole dominion over what they had jointly wrought. They fell to scheming and plotting against one another, alliances and enmities shifting as soon as they were formed. Soon enough, jealousy begat anger, and anger begat violence, and the gods warred among themselves. The weapons of the gods struck sparks from one another that illuminated the whole sky, and where these sparks fell to earth, a third race arose: humans, the children of conflict, ever restless, often reckless, capable of greatness but prone to fall.

With the birth of humanity, the First Time came to an end.