The Primordial Record

Circe labored through the earth, pushing her way through large pieces of crystallized Aether and rocks with a singular intention—Answer the call.

Breaking out of the earth like a chick escaping her shell for the first time, Circe's gaze was inexorably drawn to a pyramid made of Aether crystals. It glinted with every color she could imagine and more that she never could.

A fleeting thought came to her, 'I have been here before, have I not? I stood before a throne and I said my oblation to the…"

Pain consumed her and she fell to her knees, dimly realizing that her left knee had been shattered in the previous crash and she did not want to even guess how many bones were fractured or broken inside her body.

A cool wind blew across her body, but it did not bring relief, instead, she nearly collapsed on her face.

"I have forgotten what it is like to have a mortal body, and I apologize for your pain, but for the moment I cannot touch you Circe, your soul must be pure…"

That voice… she staggered to her feet and began to climb the pyramid, leaving pieces of her flesh on its cold, sharp edges.

Drawn like a moth to a flame, she climbed higher, even though every move she made caused pain like a thousand hot needles poking through flesh, she still pushed to climb higher. Her motion had gone beyond drive, it was her purpose, her entire reason for existence was to be at this place, at this time.

"When the world was young, at the time a babe is born, they are anointed with the oil from the hair of the mother, the father would touch their brow with his finger as he instills his blessings and the elders of the tribe would give them a name… I have no father, my mother has fled to places unknown, and my elders, well… They are dead. It would have to be you… my kin."

The words she was hearing had a meaning which she could not discern, but her soul could understand every word, and she could not understand why this brought great joy in her heart, so much so that Circe forgot the pain, and her back straightened as she ascended faster, no longer crawling, but standing on her two feet.

At this time she painted a frightful image, Circe barely had any skin left, except for bleeding muscles and tissue, held by a tattered blue dress that was now red with her blood.

Her skull barely had any hair left, but her blue balls that peered from within the bloody sockets were filled with the light of madness and something indescribable.

The blood that streamed from her body began to rise and follow her, as she climbed closer to the top of the pyramid and then when it seemed as if the journey was still longer, she reached her destination and beheld the creature seated on a throne of Aether.

Like her, he had no skin, barely any muscle or bone, he had no eyes, and he did not bleed, by all indications, she was looking at a corpse that had been left in the sun for months, but that was not what she felt standing here.

All she felt was life, a sort of aggressive vitality that seemed almost impossible to be snuffed out.

The reason for her ascent was here, at the back of her tongue, but for some reason, she could not speak, the words were a burden to her, residing inside her breast, but her lungs were too weak to push them out,

"The Mortal Body and Soul you possess is pure enough to see the real me, but it is too weak to give voice to my name. You have been baptized by death and crossed the threshold of life many times, and I have seen all the depths of your Soul, and you have seen mine. Fear not Circe, I shall give you your voice."

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Inside Rowan's broken dimension in the dead universe, Circe dwelled in the depths of the Primordial Sea of Darkness, held in safety by two Sovereigns who watched over her.

Her breath suddenly quickened as memories she did not have entered her mind, and then she learned the truth that Rowan had kept from her for so long because she was to become the one who was to make him complete.

She saw herself in another time that happened and yet did not happen, she had been a mortal who stood before the throne of a being who was meant to rule over all that was, is, and to be. Circe saw all that glory and she acknowledged it, the hands of fate or greater powers that she could not understand placed an unknown language at the tip of her tongue.

A purple light covered her body and she vanished, crossing space and time she appeared by the side of her broken mortal body, who was struggling to speak.

It was a simple thing to merge with herself, like a river entering the ocean, the purity of her mortal soul and the strength of her godly body gave her the power to say his name.

Going to her knees she took one of the shrunken hands of Rowan, nothing but bones and red pieces of stringy muscles and she kissed it, the words that came from her mouth should not be uttered by either mortal or immortal, she did not understand them, but her soul understood…

Trrshikrhl Velhyez Ywnmryr… Desolator of Universes…

Eulxhu Thyak…

The Silent Epoch…

Xlubrrhhl Vroumor Rehhirk…

The Infinite Soul

Wvryyrl Eerkhar

Maker of Truth

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The hand she held suddenly moved in her grasp and she felt the flesh begin to squirm and grow. Where she felt coldness before, a pleasant warmth emerged, and then she heard a deep but pleasant voice, it was the sweetest baritone she had ever heard, carrying an authority that made her soul shiver,

"I accept the truths of my nature that you have seen," the voice said, and then it took a playful tone, "But it's a bit too long, how can I introduce myself to anyone who asks?"

Circe looked up and she saw the most beautiful being she had ever seen. Lips as red as sin, eyes that glowed with every color in creation, and long hair that resembled woven diamonds.

On his head was a shifting crown, that seemed to be peeking at her with curiosity and she could not help it, she began to laugh.

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Truly at this moment, Rowan was speechless. He knew of long names, but he had never imagined his True name would be such a mouthful.

Trrshikrhl Velhyez Ywnmryr Eulxhu Thyak

Xlubrrhhl Vroumor Rehhirk Wvryyrl Eerkhar.

He rolled the words in his tongue, tasting each word and sensing the enormous powers inside them, he knew he could not speak them lightly, for these names came from the Enochian tongue.

A cool air entered Rowan's lungs and he smiled, he could feel this sensation, more deeply than his consciousness could translate it to him, and he touched his chest where he could feel his heart beating… his mortal heart.

This body he was inhabiting was his new Ouroboros bloodline that was created from devouring a Supreme World, and even at the mortal level, it was powerful enough to contain his Sheol bloodline that at broken through the fifth Supreme Circe and was now an Immortal level bloodline.

He could detect the presence of the Gods of Trion stirring as they raced to reach his side, cupping his jaw on a single hand, he opened his left palm, and the air over it fuzzed as reality reasserted itself and the last page of the Primordial Record appeared before him.