Esthovaac, Son of The Gods

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
"Millennia ago, a war threatened to spill out, over the worlds of Man and the Pagan Gods. A war that none of them could fight on their own... this is the legend of the Son they gave life to, for the salvation of their Worlds. Condensed and shortened, for the hopefully better understanding of the youths who wish to know him and his name..."

Submitted: October 30, 2013

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Submitted: October 30, 2013

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Each Walk or Faith has its own interpretation of the Gods. Some of the Gods are as Benevolent as a mother tending to her newborn child, while others are more malicious than a rabid Jackal. Among the Gods, the strongest and most benevolent is Pan: the God of the Land and of the Forests. He is the one by whom all things are eventually restored and reborn. Beneath him in rank, are the ones who were once known as 'the Greater Five', who lorded over all others, besides Pan, Himself.

Millennia ago, when most of they within our worlds were still so young, a war was threatened to all living things. A sect of those most unhappy with Pan and his 'Greater Five', and who were stuck in a world they ruled on their own, grew angry with everything, because they wanted to hold control. Their anger was so powerful that it consumed them, turning them each into Demons and Devils, each one with a power the equivalent of one of the Five Gods. And a very few grew so strong that their power rivaled even Pan's.
These Spirits began to affect others in a way that couldn't be described by any being known to even the First Gods. And their hatred of all things Virtuous, be they Living or Dead, became so strong that the war they threatened began to spill out into the worlds. A chaos more lethal than a Serpent's poison began to ensue. Pan and the others knew they had to do something, before this war became too viral and fatal for even Them to handle. So they convened, for six days, and six nights.

On the seventh day, they came to an agreement, that they need to have One Final God... one who had the power, control, and knowledge needed to maintain what they couldn't. But there was one problem. They could not NAME any to be a God. They needed to CREATE a God. From their own fleshes and bloods.
They knew they could not find any being or body, in Their Own world, capable of handling this tumultuous task. So they were left to turn to the World of Man; Our Mother Earth. They searched Our World, all, for three days and three nights, to find a vessel that could withstand the power and could maintain a control beyond what they might be able to keep in themselves; and in the deserts of what would come to be a Forgotten Legacy, they found it. A young child, born without a Life Essence of his own, He was an empty shell and a clean slate.
His hair was as black as the feathers of a crow, and equally as gleaming. His eyes, still closed, as he had no way to wake, were unknown in their color, but were believed the color of his people. His flesh was as pale as the moonlight, and he appeared as to be incapable of even the simplest of tasks. He was not their Ideal vessel. But they had run out of time to debate, and they had to decide. For the choice was either to take the chance with this child void of life, or allow the worlds to be consumed in certain fatal war. So, they took the chance, with this child.

Each of the 'Greater Five' Poured a fountain forth of their Life's Essence, into this newborn child, from their combined hands of Energies. But they could feel that this was still not enough. Not even to breathe Life into his body. He had a mind, and a heartbeat. But no life to command. And his will slept dormant, like the nectars of life in winter. Hitherto, Pan was the last to near the child. And when he did so, he only touched His own hand to the child's head, and spoke into the child's ear; 'From this day forth, you ARE Our Son. Our Flesh, and Our blood. As long as You remain, so shall We. Arise, Final God, Son...' And with that, Pan's power flowed into the child, like a never ending river.
The child's hair, once as black as the feathers of the crow, now turned as silver as the millions of drops of rain falling against a mirroring sky. So silvery that they could see their own reflections in his hair. His eyes, opened, which shown as two different colors, Blue and Silver, and gleaming more than a fresh-polished steel. And already, He knew who He was, He knew His purpose. And he knew all things about himself before he spoke. He knew his strength, his power, his heart, his virtue, long before any need teach him. He was born stronger than all of his Mother and Father Gods, even together. Even he who breathed the breath of Life into this child's body was now lesser in strength than this newly awakened child. His name was thus 'Esthovaac', an Olde and Forgotten Language for 'Final God, First of His Own'. And he herefor became known as The Seventh and Final God of Our Worlds, protecting us from the war that threatened. As he now was stronger than any and all spirits born to any of Our Worlds.

With Him, the war threatening was over just as soon as it began. And his power remains the greatest of the Gods, today.

 - - - - - - - - -

Walking with a step as silent as the grave, yet makes the ground all around him shake with the fury of a an erupting volcano, he was designated by the Gods as to be the Guardian of the Worlds, but was as a General to the masses. His voice, though he rarely spoke, sounded from his waking moment, as deep as the distant rumble of thunder, and yet was soft and smooth as satin.
He stood at the gates of the Worlds, barring the way to they who threatened destruction, as an impenetrable wall. Though slender and seeming as skeletal as wood, his strength greater than all other beings was rivaled by none, even as a combined force. Whilst he stood here, at these gates, he never slept. He only bared their way, for generations to come, and hence became known as the God to either Rule or Rival all Gods, of His time and all time therefrom. Since then, never once was his wrath provoked by any being, be they God or man, Demon or Divine.

And hence was born the Son of the Gods, known only as a Guardian and the Keeper of Order, whose strength grew, just as he did, though in the body of a man, his Essence and his body never faded nor aged. But kept strong as his power, for as he continued to live, so did his Mothers and Fathers, whom all, he began to see as His One begotten Father, as he grew into a man, never guaranteed to fade or perish.


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