The Creation of Esmara

The written record of the creation of Esmara

In the beginning, there was only vastness; an echo of a sound not yet fully formed. In its depth, a memory taking shape of things not yet come to pass.
Then time came, followed by a spark, and from it, she leaped through the void. Her body merged and divided from that which was there, fur growing that mimicked what her eyes bestowed. Her snout grew long, breathing in the dust of worlds not yet built, her ears catching whispers of all that had potential to be.

She ran freely, nothing to hold her back, but as her heart grew fuller, it grew emptier, too. Leaping over meteors and pouncing on barren planets, her tail caused showers in her wake. Yet the sorrow in her grew as her eyes saw only the vastness of space, and none to share it with.
As she curled together at last to resume her slumber, tears spilled from closing eyes, first few, then many, dancing in her fur and collecting in the space beneath, above, around, and within. The great wolf wept and grieved, giving part of herself in the depth of her loneliness, and as she looked upon the droplets shed, eyes widened at the sparkling reflections of herself within them.

Others.

Still weeping, she rose and began to circle, her tail growing bushy and her maw opening wide, herding her tears and beginning a song of her own.
As her howl swept across time and space, the ball of tears burst and came together again, hardening, softening, hardening yet again, until at last, she circled a planet of her own making, grander and more magnificent than those she had played with before. She gazed upon it with hope, then leaped, her body rippling and shifting as she grew smaller, grew bigger, grew just so to fit upon her world, to land upon its hardened mass and learn what it meant to stand on solid soil.

Her claws dug into the ground, cracking stone and clay and bringing forth the salty water of her tears. When her ears twitched, a breeze went through her world, and with a flick of her tail, a storm broke forth, washing away the remnants of birth. 
Taking her first steps, the world blossomed in her wake, browns and grays giving way to colors not yet named. Where she scratched at the clay, hills and mountains came to be. Where she dug deep, water sprang forth. 
 

As she drank, it tasted sweet, no longer made of tears, but of her hope.

The paradise took shape, more luscious and wild than anything she’d seen among the stars, and her heart filled with pride.

 
This was hers, and she would share it.

She breathed upon the ground, imparting her soul upon the soft soil, and shapes peeled away from it, muddy and frail at first, but at her gentle nudges and prods, tiny creatures on four legs came forth, with coats reflecting the many colors she carried in her own fur. Tails wagged up at her, and she wagged her own as she bestowed her children, pride turning to love. As she laid down upon the earth, they came to her, climbing onto her frame to hide in her fur and lick at her face, growing in strength as well as number, their energy abundant and their happiness for life infectious.
Esma’s laughter filled the world, and the sky broke apart to reveal the gold and blue of dawn, the sun rising and showing the colors of her heart as she rose alongside her children, to allow her Ithinesh to see all which she had created.

As she howled her first song of love, new creatures came from her breath, greater in size than her wolves, with wings they used to fly beside her, and their hearts were as her own, full of kindness and wisdom, and she saw herself reflected in their scales and bowed her head, greeting the dragons with the respect they would come to deserve.

Where her paws pressed into the soil, more of herself came to linger, and yet again, new creatures came forth from the earth, two-legged and without fur, and she gazed upon them in wonder and nuzzled her great snout against the first to approach her with warmth, giving the humans her blessing, too. Their hands were gentle, made to hold and nurture, and Esma showed them to her Ithinesh, who wagged their tails and tried to play. But the fur-less creatures could not keep up, and the things they built confused her children as both turned towards her for advice. Esma nodded her head and flicked her tail, and her Ithinesh and dragons changed, allowing them to walk on two legs if they so chose, so they would be able to frolic freely with all there was in this world, not limited by their shapes as Esma saw the numbers increase so eagerly.

As she continued to roam her world, the dragons dancing in the sky and the humans playing with her wolves, her fur snagged on the twigs of the tallest trees, and spirits sprang forth to tend to forests and springs. Song began as flora turned to fauna, critters of all shapes and sizes coming to enjoy that which she so freely gave. As she studied them in fascination, she found some that were part animal as well as human, shaped in the remnants of her mercy, unexpected and yet not unwelcome.

She hummed in contentment and moved along, her children new and old following her happily and sharing her merriment. They roamed and they played, and life was in full flow, her happiness abundant and her heart at ease.

Then a tree of mountain ash cut into her paw, and as her howl of pain cut through the world and scared her children away, giant shapes sprang from rock and stone, hardened yet with fur akin to her own covering their shoulders, and the orks felled the rowan trees in revenge and created their homes in the vast mountains.

When Esma lifted her aching paw to see her blood seeping into the soil to join the deep darkness beneath, her heart grew heavy, sensing that which was not to come for a long time yet. But it saddened her to know it would come regardless, and she walked with her head bowed low, her children all around her, some licking at her fur as others tried to cheer her up with dance and song alike, and she took comfort in the tales they wove so skillfully, their speech and creativity impressing her.

She laid with them under the open sky for many days and many nights, and watched them go about their lives, so much shorter but much more fulfilled than her own, and she knew then that kindness was among them all, and would always be.

At last, she stood and shook out her fur, and specks of spittle fell and created little creatures that scuttled away, not wishing to be bestowed by her, and she respected the goblins for their tenacity and left them be, instead turning her gaze back to the stars she’d come from.

Time had come, time had passed, and now, it was time for her to go.

Esma turned to her Ithinesh as they ran and played as she had done, the world made for them to enjoy. She watched as humans came together and built that which was new and made it normal, and some wielded powers of their own that was akin to hers, eyes glowing green as they bent the world to their will and promised her to take good care of all she left behind. The nymphs and spirits danced with the taurs, fields and forests flourishing under their care, while the orks dominated the mountains, the memory of her pain ingrained in their eager hearts and strengthened souls. It was the dragons she gazed at last, who led with gentle care where necessary, spreading their wings where shelter was needed and breathing fire for warmth when cold threatened.

Esma nodded and opened her world to all who would witness it, or who wished to make it their home, so they would be received in friendship here among her own.

Then she kissed her children goodbye and promised to return, and as she took her final leap off her world, she could hear the echo of creation behind her, the eighth species coming forth half-subdued in the mud. But when she turned her head to bestow them during her flight, they already burrowed deeper into the earth, prospering in the dark and quiet, their birth followed by their gratitude and wish for self-agency. So she smiled and closed her eyes, and space greeted her as an old friend. 

As her paws moved swiftly through the galaxies of life and death and the Great Beyond, her mind was full of that which she had seen, all that was now, and all she would share with them upon her return. The vastness around her no longer felt empty, but full of memories of her own making, and the hope in her heart that painted the galaxies in more colors than before.

And even as her shape remained the only one that roamed the stars of the Great Beyond, Esma was no longer alone.