Of the sparks from our Father's toil, mine was pierced into the crags of the Earth. The first was I to hear the world move. The first was I to awaken and behold creation. The first was I to open eyes and see the beauty of the cycle. The first was I to be born a God. I am The Primordial.
From within my cradle of stone and mud, I clawed towards the light. The rocks cut deep in my skin, and my blood seeped into the Earth around me. Upon my rise to the surface, I breathed out into the air. My breath lingered into the blood-soaked ground, and first was born wildlife. Of my breath, was made Prey, and of my blood, was made Predator. In those moments, as one fled from the other, I saw the Primal Order, the balance of life. And in me burned the urge to give birth.
My next breath was made solid, of stone yet not. A round disc, but within held the meaning I had come to know true. The Great Circle. Thrice has the sun risen and fallen since then, and many drops of my blood have taken root since then. Some garnered teeth while others formed claws. I saw them turn upon each other, and so the Primal Order was defined greater. The weak are the prey of the strong, and the Order I now craft grows well.
But then the stars fell from the skies, each creating for itself a body of immortal flesh. I have seen them crash, and now I must see how they shall change the Order. These newborn Gods...... My siblings.....
The sounds roared in the distance, like that of booming thunder. The stars continued to fall from their place in the sky, and Ragon had to see what could cause such a stir in the Great Circle. With each one that crashes to Earth, the Circle would skip. The sight, the sound, the smell, every aspect of sense etched new information into his mind. Such was the way of a predator. But his prey was not of his making. The rapid succession of paws upon the ground, the inhaling of six lungs, the jet black fur of these canine creatures. Ragon was proud of these beasts, for they had proven far stronger than his other children.
The pack of dire wolf-like creations neared the edge of the woods, taking in deep wiffs of the air. They were near, in the clearing not far off. Ragon had found his prey. Each massive wolf took it's place in a circle, all facing each other, and then let loose a thunderous howl. The raw, seemingly unnatural intensity in their howl sliced through the air like sharpened bone. Out from their throats lingered a dark smoke, glowing with a vibrant red energy, the essence of savage rage. The creeping smoke swirled and gathered within the circle of wolves, slowly taking shape and form. A terrifying beast, made of ethereal flesh, roared out to the skies, and from it's chest formed a second head, which swallowed it's predecessor, and from it's chest was formed a third head.
This cycle continued for several moments, with each form consuming the last before finally taking solid shape. Hard scales, sharp teeth, hooked talons, lashing tail, and cold eyes. This form was new. Ragon was pleased with it. With a hiss, he gave his approval. Perhaps this form would be the father of Ragon's next species of children. Of course, with all his forms he still bore his armor, his sign as a God. He turned his head and nodded at the wolves, as they scattered off into the dense and untamed wilds. Ragon's attention turned back to that of the strange beings from the sky, as he charged through the clearing up to the crater.
He neared the edge of the massive hole, breathing in the scent of the newcomers. The smell is strange. Fire, burning rock, but more..... They smell of.... me, but not me. What are they? Siblings? His curiosity burning to no ends, he paused a moment. Standing up on two legs, he cupped his clawed hands and breathed deep into them. The breath tookshape as a disk-like stone, hovering in the space within his hands. His claws gently scrapped the edges, allowing it to slowly spin. The Great Circle. But just as it spun, it skipped and slowed. These things had no place in it's cycle..... And then came the smell of blood, and Ragon could hold himself no longer. He swallowed the stone, and pressed on into the crater.
At last he saw them, these beasts which stood straight up. They had no predatory features and donned themselves in strange clothes. And so he addressed them, in a voice more guttural than any other being could manage, like the rumbling of stone scrapping mixed with the growl of a lion. Clearly rough from lack of use.
"Whaaaaat iiiisssssss thiisssssss?"