This is the first draft of a character sketch/world building exercise I did to help me better understand the origin of the deities and magic of my novel. I will be posting a more fleshed out version shortly, which stretches the story out and reveals a whole lot more about Khaos and her society.
I am known as Khaos to my people, though it has no great meaning to them yet. I have just learned (among other things) what it will come to mean, which it turns out is the antithesis to my thesis. The chaos of which I speak is a true danger to this world, and it is my compulsion to create structure, rules which promote homeostasis, stability, so that chaos cannot unravel that which I love and cherish; my people, my family.
I will be the one to shape the rules of this world. I know this because this morning I became omniscient. I am a God, or what will be called a God in the years to come.
When I woke up, just a few moments ago, from my grassy place in the corner of my dirt floored, stick-and-mud hut, I didn’t understand why fire always came to the fire pit when I needed it to warm the cooking pot, and when I looked through the open doorway and thought the crop looked thirsty, I didn’t understand why rain began to fall. I simply thought that was how it was supposed to be. I was puzzled by clouds, and by stars, by plants and animals; by sun and moon. I had a very incomplete knowledge of everything; but it was my love to question life, to question these things, and the question that I asked myself today was, can I know the answers to these questions, of the fire, and of the rain? and instead of wondering about the answers themselves, I decided to know them, and then I did. It was then that I became aware of my omnipotence, and decided I could know the answers to all questions, and I do. I now have complete knowledge, and am the first and only omniscient.
I cannot begin to describe the difference between what I was this morning and what I am now, only that my people–who have the same potential within them to give themselves this infinite knowledge–have not yet thought to do so.
We are, all of us, omnipotent. Every creature of this earth may make or unmake anything it wishes, though none but myself has become aware enough to know it.
I grow wary. I know what would happen if my rotten cousin desired to know everything, and what he would choose to do with that knowledge. I know that my husband, Phanes, could one day decide that our middle son has disgraced him, and that he would then wish him away into the depths of the earth…. Omnipotence, omniscience, these are dangers to our world. Even with this infinite understanding, even knowing all that has happened and all that can happen, I am still paranoid, I do not trust my knowledge, I can hardly trust my husband. I do not trust my people.
I have made myself ageless and unkillable, and will soon apply boundaries to my people’s power; I will require their potence be filtered through me. I do not wish to take these wonderful freedoms away, I only hope to safeguard this place and these people from disasters of carelessness or greed. I will watch my people grow, and die, grow, and die, and I hope to see them advance naturally, without my aid, but will answer their prayers as long as they are within reason. In the years to come I will devise more precise boundaries, I will perhaps enable them to call upon fire or rain without my interference, but for now everything goes through me. I must watch the patterns of life for a while before I can trust the world with the power it was born into.
To the others of this world, those outside of my tribe, I have removed their power and will ignore their prayers, possibly indefinitely, for I do not wish to hear the inane wants of the mountain cat, or the mumblings of the desert elephant, the hunger pangs of the forest slug. Nor do I care to hear the dreams of other peoples across the world, they are no matter to me. And of the enormous, feathered lizards that walk the earth and fly above? Their fire breathing and mountain eating left with their power, but they are still large and dangerous, and I am surprised that none of us have thought to blink them all immediately dead. I have now done that.
I was once ignorant, and it was my love to question everything; it feels forever ago now, though it be just a few moments since I awoke. Already I regret knowing all that I know, and may one day choose to not know so much, but that day is not yet upon me.