The Birth of the Lesser Gods

The gods stood together on the highest peaks of Veltheria, gazing down upon the world they
had shaped and the mortals who struggled to thrive. The scars of their divine labors marred the
land, and the weight of their presence threatened the balance they had painstakingly created.
Though their love for the world was boundless, they knew their direct intervention would only
stifle its growth.

“The world must flourish on its own,” Gaia said softly, her voice carrying the sorrow of countless
sacrifices. “Yet there is still much to tend. The rivers, the mountains, the skies, and the dreams
of mortals all require care.”

“We cannot do this alone,” Helios agreed, his radiant form dimming as he spoke. “We must
ensure that Veltheria’s beauty, its balance, and its chaos endure—but not by our hands.”

Selune nodded, her silver eyes reflecting the shimmering moonlight. “Then let us give the world
new guardians, born of our essence but free to find their own paths.”

Thus, the gods turned their gaze inward, drawing forth fragments of their divine essence. With
these shards, they began to weave new beings—not to rule over the world but to nurture it in
ways the gods themselves could no longer.

A Chorus of Creation

The first Lesser Gods emerged from the wills of the Great Gods, each embodying a specific
need or desire for the world. They rose from the rivers, the flames, the winds, and the shadows,
their forms as varied as the lands they were meant to protect.

Neritha, the Flowing One, was born of Gaia’s tears, her form as fluid and changing as the
rivers she would guide. Talas, the Shifting Sky, sprang from Helios’ laughter, his wings
carrying the restless winds across Veltheria. Sylara, the Weaver of Dreams, was shaped by
Selune’s whispers, her delicate hands threading the dreams of mortals into tapestries of
inspiration and wonder.

But these were only the first.

For every need the gods perceived, they created a new guardian: a deity to shepherd the
forests, a spirit to guard the mountains, and a muse to inspire the songs of mortals. Yet, as they
created, the gods began to notice something strange.

Emergence Beyond Design

The essence of Chronos, the Primordial God of Time, lingered in every fragment the gods used
to shape their creations. This essence carried a spark of unpredictability, a remnant of Chronos’
eternal nature that defied even the will of the Great Gods.

In time, new Lesser Gods began to emerge—not from the hands of the gods, but from the
collective will of the world itself. A thunderstorm that raged for weeks might give rise to a storm
god; the collective prayers of mortals might shape a protector of harvests; even the fears of
mortals could birth shadowy deities dwelling in the corners of forgotten forests.

The gods watched this with a mixture of awe and trepidation. “These are not of our making,”
Rakoth observed, his voice heavy with wonder. “And yet they are bound to the world as surely
as our own creations.”

“They are Veltheria’s own children,” Gaia said, her gaze softening as she beheld a newborn
deity rising from a sunlit meadow. “Perhaps this is as it should be.”

A World Without Boundaries

The Lesser Gods multiplied, their numbers unknowable. Some were born of divine intention,
others from the forces of nature, and still others from the hearts and minds of mortals. They
were not uniform in purpose or allegiance—some served the Great Gods with unwavering
loyalty, while others carved their own paths, pursuing goals the gods themselves could not
foresee.

These Lesser Gods formed a living tapestry across Veltheria, weaving together the destinies of
mortals, beasts, and the land itself. They became the patrons of cities, the guardians of tribes,
the muses of poets, and the terrors of dark places.

The Great Gods, now weary and distant, watched this burgeoning pantheon with a sense of
completion. “The world no longer needs us to hold its hand,” Selune murmured as she gazed at
the glowing moon. “It has its own guardians now.”

An Unfinished Symphony

Yet even the Great Gods could not predict how far this tapestry would stretch. For every known
god, there were whispers of another, forgotten or undiscovered. A deity of ancient forests
slumbered in roots untouched for centuries. A guardian of lost cities waited beneath crumbling
ruins. Even now, in the hearts of mortals, new gods were stirring, their forms not yet shaped but
their influence already felt.

The number of Lesser Gods was infinite in potential, limited only by the imaginations of mortals
and the mysteries of the world itself.
In this way, Veltheria became a living symphony, ever-changing and ever-growing. The gods
had set the stage, but it was the Lesser Gods and the mortals they guided who would play its
endless melody.

And so, the Great Gods withdrew into their celestial realms, content to watch as Veltheria
flourished—not under their command, but through the countless hands of those who had been
born to care for it.
The Emergence of the World Serpent and Leviathan

As the Titans and Dragons were sealed in their celestial prisons, the gods gazed upon the
battered world with weary eyes. They had won the battle but at an unimaginable cost. Veltheria
was scarred—its mountains shattered, its rivers tainted, and its lands trembling from the
remnants of the colossal war.

In the wake of this destruction, the gods witnessed the emergence of two colossal beings,
formed from the very legs of Chronos. Unlike the Titans and Dragons, these creatures did not
thirst for conquest or power. They were ancient and primal, tied to the very fabric of the world.

The World Serpent: The Earth's Eternal Anchor

From Chronos' left leg, the World Serpent was born, an endless, coiling entity whose body
pulsed with the molten energy of the planet’s core. The World Serpent did not roar or rage;
instead, it slithered deep beneath the earth, wrapping its immense body around Veltheria’s
molten heart. It coiled there, silent and still, as if it understood its purpose from the moment of
its birth.

The gods approached it cautiously, unsure of its nature. Gaia spoke to the Serpent in a voice
soft yet firm, her plea resonating through the depths of the earth. She asked it to bear the
burden of holding the land together, to stabilize the fractured world with its immense strength.
The Serpent responded not with words but with a subtle shift in its coils, tightening around
Veltheria’s core. The trembling earth stilled, and the gods knew they had been heard.

The Duty of the World Serpent:

● Its massive coils keep the tectonic plates of Veltheria in place, preventing catastrophic
quakes and volcanic eruptions.
● It slumbers eternally, only stirring when the balance of the earth is in jeopardy.
● The Serpent’s dreams are said to influence the land above, causing shifts in mana flow
and shaping the natural world.

The Leviathan: The Silent Guardian of the Seas

From Chronos' right leg, the Leviathan emerged, a titanic turtle whose shell shimmered with
the colors of the ocean and whose limbs churned the waves with the power of the tides. Unlike
the Serpent, the Leviathan drifted to the surface, settling in the vast seas that now surrounded
Veltheria. Its presence calmed the restless waters, and its sheer size deterred the remaining
monsters of the deep from wreaking havoc on the shores.
The gods once again sought aid, and it was Helios who spoke to the Leviathan, his golden light
reflecting off its immense shell. He asked it to safeguard the oceans, ensuring they would not
overwhelm the land or consume the fragile balance the gods had fought to restore. The
Leviathan dipped its head solemnly and drifted into the deep, carrying its duty in silence.

The Duty of the Leviathan:

● It regulates the ocean’s currents and ensures the tides do not devour the coasts.
● Its presence pacifies sea monsters, keeping them from threatening mortal settlements.
● The Leviathan’s movements are so vast and slow that entire ecosystems thrive upon its
shell, earning it reverence from both land-dwellers and sea creatures.

The Gods’ Plea and Respite

Exhausted by their battles and the creation of the cosmos, the gods knew their strength was
spent. Their very essence had been poured into shaping Veltheria, sealing its dangers, and
protecting its burgeoning life. Though they longed to guide the world further, they understood
the cost of constant intervention. Each divine act disrupted the balance of mana, and too many
acts would threaten to unravel what they had worked so hard to mend.

Gathered in a celestial conclave, the gods made a fateful decision: they would withdraw from
the direct affairs of Veltheria.

Before doing so, they turned to the World Serpent and the Leviathan one last time, pleading
with them to protect the world in their absence. Both creatures accepted their roles silently, their
immense forms embodying the stability and endurance the gods could no longer guarantee.
The Birth of Angels and Demons: The Second Chaos

Even as the gods guided the world into an era of growth and stability, the echoes of Chronos'
will reverberated through the cosmos, spawning new forms of existence. From the scattered
remnants of Chronos' heart, the first Angels were born. These luminous beings embodied the
purer aspects of mana: order, harmony, and the drive to preserve life.

From the depths of Chronos' mind, the first Demons emerged, dark and chaotic entities
infused with primal energies of destruction and discord. Unlike the mortals who had adapted to
Veltheria, the Angels and Demons carried immense power, but they lacked the gods' wisdom
and balance. They were new forces, pure and untempered, drawn to their respective natures as
moths are to flame.

The Nature of Angels and Demons

The Angels embodied order and peace, seeking to impose harmony upon the universe, even
to the point of rigidity. They were drawn to the structure of Veltheria, gravitating toward its
tranquil lands and vibrant mana flows. In their attempts to “perfect” the world, they sometimes
acted without consideration for the will of mortals, seeing them as fragile creations in need of
guidance—or control.

The Demons, conversely, represented chaos and freedom, embodying the raw, unbridled
forces of change and entropy. They were not inherently malevolent, but their actions often
resulted in upheaval and destruction as they sought to dismantle what they perceived as
stagnation. To the Demons, the world was an unfinished canvas, meant to be reshaped
endlessly through fire, shadow, and flux.

As these new entities awakened, their very existence threatened the balance the gods had
worked so hard to establish.

The Gathering Storm

The arrival of Angels and Demons on Veltheria reignited the turmoil that had once been wrought
by the Dragons and Titans.

At first, the two forces ignored one another, each drawn to different corners of the world. The
Angels gravitated toward places of mana harmony—holy sites, leyline nexuses, and serene
natural havens. The Demons, meanwhile, were drawn to regions of instability: volcanic rifts,
deep caverns, and storm-wracked wastelands. But as their numbers grew, so too did their
awareness of one another. Their opposing natures inevitably brought them into conflict.
The Angels sought to suppress the Demons, perceiving their chaotic influence as a threat to the
fragile balance of the world. The Demons, in turn, resisted the Angels' attempts to impose order,
viewing it as a denial of their very existence. Their clashes were catastrophic, rivaling even the
Dragon-Titan War in devastation. Mortals once again found themselves caught in the crossfire,
their lands scorched and their lives disrupted.

The Gods’ Intervention

The gods, bound to their newfound purpose of safeguarding mortal life, could not stand idly by.
They had watched the rise of the Angels and Demons with trepidation, hoping that these beings
might coexist in the vastness of the universe. But as their battles spread chaos across Veltheria,
the gods acted decisively.

Gaia, the Goddess of Life, saw the pain inflicted upon her creations and pleaded for a solution
that would preserve all beings. Helios and Selune, still scarred by the war they had quelled,
argued for separation—a banishment of both Angels and Demons to prevent further conflict.
Lythos, the God of Death, offered his realm as a potential refuge, but he warned that his
Underworld could not contain their power indefinitely.

In the end, it was Rakoth, the God of Flesh and Form, who proposed the creation of two
separate realms. These realms would be tailored to the nature of each faction, allowing them to
exist without threatening the balance of Veltheria.

The Realms of Angels and Demons

The gods pooled their power to create two parallel dimensions, each tethered to Veltheria yet
inaccessible to mortals without divine intervention.

1. The Empyrean Veil:

A radiant realm crafted by Helios and Gaia, filled with endless skies, shimmering clouds,
and golden spires of light. It became the home of the Angels, a sanctuary of order and
harmony where they could thrive without imposing their will upon the mortal world. The
Empyrean Veil was designed to reflect the Angels’ ideals—a perfect, unchanging
paradise untouched by chaos.
2. The Abyssal Rift:
A shadowy, tempestuous expanse forged by Selune and Rakoth, brimming with twisting
landscapes, molten rivers, and perpetual storms. This became the domain of the
Demons, a chaotic and ever-shifting realm that allowed their unbridled nature to flourish
without disrupting the balance of the mortal world. The Abyssal Rift was a reflection of
freedom, creativity, and untamed power, albeit destructive.
The Exile

To ensure that Angels and Demons could no longer endanger Veltheria, the gods banished
both factions to their respective realms.

The Empyrean Veil was sealed with radiant locks of mana, crafted by Helios, ensuring that no
Angel could leave without divine sanction. Similarly, the Abyssal Rift was bound by lunar
chains woven by Selune, preventing the Demons from crossing into the mortal realm unbidden.

The mortals, though shaken by the cataclysmic battles, saw the gods’ actions as a sign of their
enduring protection. Temples were built to honor the gods’ wisdom and power, and stories of
the Angels and Demons became cautionary tales, warning of the dangers of imbalance.

Lingering Influences

Though the Angels and Demons were banished, their presence lingered in subtle ways. Angels
left behind shards of divine energy—crystals and relics imbued with their light, sought after by
priests and scholars. Demons, in turn, left traces of their chaotic mana in the form of cursed
artifacts and corrupted landscapes, feared and shunned by mortals.

Occasionally, through cracks in the dimensional seals or mortal meddling, an Angel or Demon
might slip into Veltheria. These rare occurrences sparked legends of divine intervention or
demonic incursions, further cementing their place in the mortal consciousness.

The Cycle Endures

With the Angels and Demons removed, the gods turned their focus back to Veltheria. They
reinforced the Cycle of Rebirth, ensuring that mortal souls could continue to grow, adapt, and
thrive. Yet the lessons of the Angels and Demons remained etched into their divine hearts:
balance was fragile, and even the purest forces could spiral into chaos when unchecked.

As Veltheria entered a new age of stability, the gods withdrew once more, watching and guiding
from afar. Yet they remained vigilant, knowing that the forces of order and chaos, though
separated, could never be fully extinguished.

Rakoth: The Eternal Warden of Balance

When the gods sealed the Angels and Demons into their respective realms, the responsibility
of maintaining the delicate equilibrium fell to Rakoth, the God of Flesh and Form. Known for his
meticulous nature and unwavering resolve, Rakoth was the only being suited to oversee the
Empyrean Veil and the Abyssal Rift, ensuring that neither realm could encroach upon
Veltheria.

The Role of Rakoth

Rakoth took up his charge not with pride, but with solemnity. Unlike Lythos, who guided souls
in the peaceful sanctuary of the Underworld, Rakoth’s task was to serve as a custodian of
boundaries and a judge of incursions. His duty was unending, a vigil that demanded constant
vigilance and impartiality.

Rakoth’s domain was not a place but a state of being—a bridge between the realms he watched
over. From this ethereal vantage, he could observe the Empyrean Veil, the Abyssal Rift, and
their tethered connections to Veltheria.

Rakoth's Vigil

To fulfill his role, Rakoth shaped a unique realm known as the Ethereal Nexus, an intermediary
plane existing between the mortal world, the Empyrean Veil, and the Abyssal Rift. From this
vantage, he could monitor the flows of mana and influence that connected the realms, detecting
and countering any attempt to breach their boundaries.

The Ethereal Nexus was a place of stark contrasts, reflecting the duality of the forces it
bridged:

● Half of the realm glowed with radiant light, embodying the ordered energy of the
Angels and the Empyrean Veil.
● The other half churned with shadows and storms, a manifestation of the chaotic
mana of the Demons and the Abyssal Rift.

In the center of the Nexus stood Rakoth’s Eternal Vigil, a towering edifice of stone and mana
that pulsed with both light and shadow. Here, Rakoth kept watch, his form blending elements of
stability and transformation—a reflection of his dual charge.

Tools of the Warden

Rakoth was not alone in his vigil. To aid him, he created Sentinels of Equilibrium, beings
forged from his own essence. These creatures were faceless, impartial enforcers bound to
maintain the separation between realms.

● Balance Sentinels patrolled the connections between Veltheria and the realms,
neutralizing breaches of influence.
● Judicators were dispatched to confront Angels or Demons who sought to bypass their
exile, returning them to their realms or, in extreme cases, obliterating their essence.

Rakoth also wielded a unique artifact, the Chains of Accord, forged from the combined
powers of Helios and Selune. These chains allowed him to bind or banish even the mightiest
Angels and Demons, reinforcing his authority over their realms.

Rakoth’s Rules of Oversight

Rakoth established strict laws to govern his vigilance, ensuring fairness and preventing
unnecessary conflict:

1. No Influence Beyond the Realms

Angels and Demons were strictly prohibited from interfering with Veltheria. Any attempt
to do so, whether through summoned artifacts, stray energy, or mortal worship, was met
with immediate intervention.
2. Balance Above All
Rakoth refused to favor either the Empyrean Veil or the Abyssal Rift. While their natures
were opposing, they were integral parts of the cosmos. His role was to maintain their
separation, not to suppress one over the other.
3. Mortal Interference
Mortals who attempted to summon Angels or Demons were warned first through visions
or subtle interventions. Persistent offenders faced Rakoth’s direct judgment, often with
dire consequences.

Rakoth's Dual Guardians

To reinforce his authority, Rakoth created two guardians, each embodying the nature of the
realms they oversaw:

1. Aurelion, the Shield of Radiance

○ Tier: 11
○ Appearance: A colossal, winged being of pure light, with a shield engraved with
runes of celestial order.
 ○
Role: Aurelion patrolled the boundaries of the Empyrean Veil, ensuring that
Angels abided by their banishment. It radiated serenity and strength, embodying
the ideals of the Angels it guarded.
2. Umbryss, the Abyssal Maw
○ Tier: 11
○ Appearance: A shadowy, serpentine creature with countless shifting eyes and
tendrils that seemed to devour light itself.
○ Role: Umbryss prowled the edges of the Abyssal Rift, pulling back any Demon
who ventured too close to Veltheria. It was relentless, chaotic, yet perfectly
bound to Rakoth’s will.

Both guardians were bound to Rakoth’s authority and acted without personal judgment,
ensuring his impartiality extended even to his creations.

Rakoth’s Struggle

Unlike the gods who presided over creation, growth, and cycles, Rakoth’s task was one of
eternal vigilance, marked by solitude and constant tension. The Angels resented his control,
viewing him as a jailer restricting their divine purpose. The Demons, conversely, saw him as an
oppressor, denying them their rightful freedom.

Yet Rakoth bore their scorn without faltering. He understood that his duty was not to be loved
but to protect the balance of Veltheria.

The Mortal Perspective

In Veltherian mythology, Rakoth is both revered and feared. Mortals see him as the Guardian
of Balance, a silent sentinel who ensures that the chaos of Demons and the rigidity of Angels
do not overrun their world. While temples to Rakoth are rare, his name is invoked in rituals of
protection and banishment, especially when dealing with otherworldly entities.

Legends speak of Rakoth’s intervention in mortal affairs only in the gravest of circumstances. It
is said that when a Demon or Angel breaches their exile, Rakoth himself descends, wielding the
Chains of Accord to restore balance.

Rakoth's Eternal Mission

While Lythos safeguards the souls of the dead in the Underworld, Rakoth’s vigilance ensures
that the realms of Angels and Demons remain distant echoes of Veltheria’s past. His eternal
watch is a testament to the gods’ determination to protect the fragile world they shaped,
ensuring that the lessons of Chronos’ fall are never forgotten.
The Creation Myth of Veltheria: The Legacy of Chronos

Before existence itself, there was only Chronos, the Primordial God of Time. Eternal,
immeasurable, and infinite, Chronos embodied the paradox of existence: life and death,
beginning and end, all bound within a single entity. Yet even Chronos was not immune to the
decay of eternity. As the endless void stretched on, Chronos reached his inevitable end—a
moment both catastrophic and wondrous.

In his death, Chronos birthed the cosmos. His body became the catalyst for creation, his
flesh forming the substance of stars and worlds, and his blood, infused with boundless energy,
spilling forth into the void as mana—the lifeblood of all that would come. From this primal
essence, the Five Gods of the Beginning emerged, fragments of Chronos’ divinity given form.
These gods—Gaia, Helios, Selune, Lythos, and Rakoth—drifted through the universe, alive yet
purposeless, watching as the cosmos unfolded around them.

Eons passed. Chronos’ decayed body continued to release mana, spreading across the
void and shaping the foundations of creation. Planets and celestial bodies formed from this
divine material, stabilizing into intricate orbits. But still, the universe remained silent, barren,
without meaning.

From the remnants of Chronos’ soul, countless smaller souls emerged. These souls
were sparks of light in an empty universe, each carrying a fragment of Chronos’ final will: live.

At first, the gods observed indifferently. These fledgling souls wandered aimlessly,
seeking a home among the countless stars. Many withered, returning to the void, yet a select
few found a place to thrive. Among them was a planet of unparalleled potential, where mana
swirled in abundance, nourishing these souls. The gods watched, curious, as the struggling
sparks clung to existence, adapting to their surroundings, fighting to survive. For the first time,
the gods felt something stirring within them—a desire to understand the meaning of life, of
struggle, of persistence.

Everything changed when Titans and Dragons emerged, tearing apart the fragile
harmony of this nascent world.

From Chronos’ left arm, the Dragons arose—majestic, powerful, and cunning. Masters of
Arcane Energy, they refined the raw mana of the world, bending it to their will and creating the
first magic. With this power, they claimed dominion over the skies and seas, declaring
themselves rulers of creation.

From Chronos’ right arm, the Titans emerged—immense, indomitable, and resolute.
Harnessing Vital Energy, they strengthened their bodies, becoming symbols of raw, unyielding
power. They saw themselves as the guardians of the land, shaping mountains and valleys with
their massive forms. The two were born of the same primordial essence, yet their natures were
irreconcilable. The Titans and Dragons saw each other as rivals, and their war shook the planet
to its core.

The gods watched as the Dragons and Titans tore apart the fledgling world they had
grown to cherish. Entire landscapes were obliterated, seas boiled away, and the fragile souls
who had begun to flourish were destroyed in the chaos. The gods, who had drifted without
purpose for millennia, now felt a surge of emotion: compassion for the souls struggling to
survive, and rage at the forces that sought to extinguish them.

Gaia was the first to awaken fully to her purpose. The Goddess of Life
descended upon the world, halting the war with her immense power. She healed the
ravaged land, coaxing life to flourish once more, and shielded the remaining souls from
further harm.

Helios, the God of Light, and Selune, the Goddess of Night, followed soon after.
Their frustration turned to resolve as they devised a way to end the conflict permanently.
Together, they wielded their combined might to seal the Dragons and Titans, preventing
them from ever again wreaking havoc on the mortal plane.

Helios forged a prison within the Sun, where the Dragons, defiant to the last,
were cast into its blazing heart. Selune, serene but unyielding, crafted chains of lunar
energy to bind the Titans within the Moon, lulling them into an eternal slumber.

Lythos, the God of Death, mourned the loss of countless souls caught in the
crossfire. Determined to give them peace, he created the Underworld, a sanctuary
where broken and wandering souls could find solace. To ensure the cycle of life and
death endured, he worked alongside Gaia to establish the Cycle of Rebirth.

Finally, Rakoth, the God of Flesh, saw the plight of the surviving souls. He gave
them bodies—vessels to protect their fragile essence and thrive in the material world.
Thus, the first mortal forms were born.

Together, Gaia and Lythos planted the Tree of Rebirth at the heart of the Underworld. Its roots
intertwined with rivers of mana, while its branches reached toward the heavens. The tree served
as a bridge between life and death, cleansing souls of their burdens and allowing them to be
reborn into the mortal plane. Rakoth’s gifts of flesh allowed these souls to adapt to their
environments, taking on forms that best suited their surroundings. The resilient became
dwarves, their sturdy bodies reflecting the mountains they called home. The graceful, drawn to
the mana-rich forests, became elves. The adaptable became humans, thriving in diverse
landscapes. And the beast-like, deeply attuned to nature, became beastkin. Yet not all souls
were whole. Some, tainted by the lingering mana of the Titans and Dragons, twisted into
monstrous forms. These corrupted beings roamed the land as monsters, a reminder of the
chaos that once consumed the world.

With the Titans and Dragons sealed, the gods turned their attention to nurturing the
mortal world. Gaia taught the races to live in harmony with the land. Helios and Selune blessed
the skies, granting the sun and moon to guide the passage of time. Rakoth aided in their growth,
fostering innovation and strength. And Lythos maintained the balance, ensuring that death
would always lead to renewal.

Though their influence shaped Veltheria, the gods remained distant, allowing mortals to
carve their own destinies. The scars of the Dragon-Titan War faded, but the echoes of that
conflict lingered in the world’s myths, its monsters, and its mana-rich lands.

From the remnants of Chronos, the gods found purpose, and from the chaos of his
death, the mortals found life.