Creation: The First
Follow Frey, a typical nobody in our present world. As he experience his daily life blast away, never to return the same. Technology fades as magical skills claims its place. Beeing the first to ever come in contact with mana, and thereby obtain a skill, he will get a headstart. To face the troubles awaiting in a changing world. He will journey to the far side of the earth, searching for his reason to live. Hi everyone. Author here. This is my first, Ever, attempt to write a story. I recently started reading webnovels and decided to try, and write my own. Im allso a big newbie using this platform to upload, so i will make changes to my uploads as i learn to navigate and use the tools. Feel free to make any comments on my story. Good, bad, technical or any ideas. I take it all as i hope it will make me a better writer :) Hope some of you will enjoy :)
Prologue
In the endless sea of space, a battle of existence took place. Beings of absolute power, immortals, had arrogantly thought they could control the object. However, the object could not be controlled. Nor did it control itself. It simply was and simply did.
The beings knew it was the beginning and end of all. Containing the power of creation itself. A power never obtained or even believed to exist. Until the beings found it. Some of the beings wanted to extract its power, channel it to create for themselves.
They started to create in their image, mortals that would come to consume worlds in their greed. Celestial bodies in the form of worlds. These worlds did not fit into the universe, they were malicious. Not by choice, but because they were made in a way, that wasn't meant to be. They devoured countless of other worlds, systems, and even entire galaxies.
So, some beings rose up, wanting to take the object and cast it away. This sparked the first war that the beings had ever fought. During the war the object changed hands many times. For only through channeling it, could the immortal beings be undone.
The last being, wounded in the battle to possess the object, soared trough the vastness of space. The object was cracked, creation fading. The being wanted to create a final time. Before the object dissipated from losing its energy. Before the being itself would perish.
It was searching for a world, somewhere with energy of the lowest plane of existence. Somewhere it could spread the fleeing energy of creation, swoop it like a blanket around a body, or it would disappear forever.
In the distance a galaxy of bodies was appearing, rays of energy where cast between them. The being noticed a warm body, nearby was energy. Mortals. The being slowed down, watching the tiny energy of mortals emerging from the young body that was dancing around the hot sun, as the mortals called it.
The last thing the being sensed, was the last bit of creation energy it sent to the world, before itself and the object, ceased to exist.