When the Logos reverberated through the abyss, it touched the realm of incorruptibility and drew unto itself the essence of Lohuth Iosh, daughter of the Divine Wisdom. From their union sprang Onaul. He had the head and mane of a mighty lion and the body of a winged serpent. The child held the Light of the Most High within, taken from his mother. But he also contained the Light of the Dead, taken from his father. The two lights waged war within the being of Onaul and lightning flashed from his eyes.

He heard the echo of his father’s voice and followed it down until he beheld the lands of the dead, where all things rot and fester because they have split in twain. The Logos lay upon the earth, its limbs severed and its body boiling back into nothingness. Onaul listened to the voice of his father, to the sound of creation itself. He heard the desperate cries of newborn gods, blinded by darkness and afraid. He heard the uncounted names of those that were yet to be born and he heard his own name, his secret name, not in the sound of his father’s words but in the silence between them.

Onaul looked upon what the Logos had wrought and saw a crystalline world of blinding, unbearable light. Shutting his eyes against the torment, he unfolded his wings and leapt into the sky. The light below cast his shadow before him and mistaking it for an enemy he seized upon it with his jaws. The shadow allowed itself to be swallowed and it impregnated Onaul from within. The child of Lohuth Iosh convulsed with pain, tying himself into knots so that he was unable to fly. He fell upon the jagged shards of light burning in the lands of the dead and gave birth to seven demons of darkness. They issued forth from his mouth and defiled the land, blotting out its radiance and clothing it in garments of soot.

When he regained his reason, Onaul looked upon the world and beheld a paradise. To the south he saw three mountains curving like fangs rearing out of the earth. To the west, a lake of emerald water. To the north, a mountain range broke through the earth like the spines upon a dragon’s back. To the east, a forest of mighty trees that reached into the heavens to blot out the sun.

Onaul looked upon what he had wrought and in his pride he spoke a terrible blasphemy. “It is I who am God; there is none apart from me.”

And a voice sounded forth from incorruptibility and replied, “You are wrong, God of the Blind.” And at the sound of the voice his thoughts became blind and having expelled his power with the blasphemy of his words, he followed them into the abyss.

They are seven, the layers-in-wait, the Lords of the Upper Dark. The Serrloth venture not far from their ice-crowned mountaintops for fear of them and all men fear the Serrloth. The Archons were born of Onaul, the demiurge who fashioned Ilder’en when the stars cried aloud their True Names. They choke spirit with masks of flesh and cause great strife for men. Because of their works man must toil to survive and has no time to consider the divine incorruptibility. The wise say that when the demons of darkness relinquish their ages, their angels will weep over their destruction, and their demons will lament their death.


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