From the moment of speaking with the Spirit, the Father realized the futility of the situation. A being with no concept of itself was trying to forge a way out of a place it knew nothing about. Every time he tried to discover more about himself, he would always find more questions than he started with before.
Titles like The Father, The Spirit, and The Son had no true meaning or relevance. They were empty syllables, and the more he turned them over, the more they maddened him. That's when it hit him, harder than the loneliness that this void could instill.
He tried to streamline his knowledge, making the words distinct from one another. Each sentence he strung filled each meaningless syllable with a certain purpose they were to fulfill. The surrounding void understood the significance of these names, and soon, the Father called it "darkness" with the void churning at this term's very inception.
"What I call you that surrounds us on all sides is 'darkness', a blank canvas that is not meant to ensnare but give us a home. But even so, you too want something better for yourself, do you not?" The Father asked to the nihilism of space, the void warping and stirring in retortion to the sentiment, "Let me give you a friend, something for you to have even if you do not feel lonely like I do."
The balance of the void was ruptured and shattered for the first time in days before existence. The first to go was the blackness, torn away from the darkness in a cascade of uncontrollable and ravaging "light". It brightened the void, giving side and shape partially to the formlessness of the place.
When the Father looked upon the majesty he had done, he grew happy in the face of the first creation he had ever made. Yet, the Son—upon realizing what had been created—was far from just enthused.
Upon feeling this development, the Son and Spirit rushed to the Father. Both were quite stunned by the act of godhood, yet one saw something even more.
To The Son, this was only the beginning. This was merely a stepping stone, and the next progression would be for the Father to explain what it is he created. The Son wasted no time, wishing to learn the secrets to this power.
"Father, you have done it! Haven't you?" The Son feigned happiness. "Indeed, what do you call such a thing of exuberance that scared away our captor?" the Son asked.
"This intensity has not scared 'darkness' away; only has the darkness allowed it to have a place to stay. Its equal and keeps it company," The Father claimed, his voice echoing across the void of light and darkness, "I do wish for its name to have some grandeur, for it comes from my very soul, the thing that proves my existence," The Father thought, "What it is to be called is "Light", a ray of energy capable of taking its place next that of darkness, a warmth giver."
"Indeed, it has done so." The Spirit said, feeling the radiating energies of the two clashing forces, "But what of the way you fostered its birth? You said it was forged with your essence alone."
"Yes, my Son and Spirit, our souls. It seems to hold the blueprint, one I was oblivious to for so long. We are the blueprint for all we could ever dream of."
"The way to our new world is within us?" The Son asked.
"Indeed," The Father said, "but for now, I will rest. I will show you once I have renewed my vigour, since I feel a great deal of wear upon myself after completing this task. It seems to take a lot out of one when they create something of high significance like this 'light' here," he claimed, leaving the two to reflect on what was said.
*****
Immediately, the Son and Spirit went about deciphering what was said to them by the Father. The Son was the keenest, feeling the power and intensity of the surrounding light. He deemed it to truly and only come from the soul of the Father.
The Spirit was at work trying to do the same. Both of them were at a loss for what to do in order to access this same power the Father had. In frustration, the Son sent the Spirit to search for the Father once again.
"Father, I don't wish to disturb your rest, but I beg of you to give unto us the knowledge of true understanding. So we can create like you have. The Son, his patience wears thin."
"Which is exactly why I ask for your patience, because something irks me when it comes to him and his impatience. Especially after what I saw when he looked upon the 'Light'."
If the Spirit had a face to be graced upon, it would be construed with confusion, "Perchance, may you enlighten me to why you are withholding this information from The Son and I then?" The Spirit asked.
The Father started with a heavier tone, almost saddened in a way. "With my first creation and my introspection, I have learnt what we are and our purpose. We are meant to create and give form to the formless, give meaning to the meaningless. A term fitting of this would be something like a…'god'—indeed, Gods are what we are," The Father responded.
"And then, our dear engineer?"
"After this discovery, I was able to awaken the powers that I needed to create that light and subsequently more things. I've been able to see the shape and intentions behind each of what I believe is our 'souls', mine included. Both yours and mine burn with a light of gold and white, but The Son's…," The Father hesitated, the silence of the void sounding, before being spurred on by The Spirit.
"I can't see anything related to his own; it is as if something clouds my vision from being able to see his own intentions, and I hesitate to find out what it means. Whether he corrupts our creations and twists them into what they aren't supposed to be," The Father finished.
"You are scared of what tapestries he will weave?" The Spirit reaffirmed.
"He always held the rhetoric of wanting to enjoy himself. I fear that when he creates, this very rhetoric of placing himself before all others will lead to a cataclysm. What if his rhetoric were spilled onto his creations? And if one were to think in such a way…with such self-pride…," The Father trailed off.
"Father, first of the three Gods, I beg you to hold this fear of yours at bay," The Spirit affirmed, "Show us the way to the best dream you wish for us to fulfill. I have faith in him, Father. I believe he will do what is right, just as you yourself want for the better of all those who are to come. So please do not tarry out of fear, but show us the way to a future worth wanting to create."
"I have no doubt you wish to do so."
********
The time of resting for the Father had long passed, and with it came a new era of creation for all things. After teaching the other two, unlocking and showing them their true potential as Gods, the three became known as the three most powerful beings in existence—The Most High. With this true enlightenment of their potential and their roles, each immediately set out to work to create the parts of the new world they wanted to see.
Each took their own area of expertise, specific to the ideals that they would later embody. Being the de facto leader and source of understanding for the three, the Father undertook the most laborious of the tasks, creating the place where they would live.
Light would bathe the palace forever, everlasting in its Godrays. He was left to name it Paradioso, due to its beauty. The center of the universe it was, with many more to join Paradioso in making it the greatest creation of the Gods.
The second of the three—the one that embodied the passion, vigour, liveliness, and youthfulness of the new world—was the Spirit. From the father's work, the Spirit created the first drops of water that expanded into the first great rivers that ran through Paradioso.
He envisioned different sects of land, each with its own personality, life, and serenity that would accentuate the newness to be created around the realm. Yet even after finishing this masterpiece called Eden, he needed to do one more thing. And from the first creation of Light and Darkness, he designated movement they took in rhythmic cycles as Day and Night—gifting them their own signals for their arrival in the forms of many moons and suns.
For the last of the three—the curiosity and wonder; the embodiment of fascination and splendor seeking in the realm—the Son looked to create the living beings that roam the lands within Paradioso's grace and boundaries. The Son, having no form of inspiration to pull on for the design of such a living being, save for the three, would in turn test his own abilities of creation to make for himself the first vestige of a body, one befitting a God.
The other two, upon seeing his work, viewed it as the greatest work that could have been done. They were implored to do the same by the Son.
Continuing his creation escapades, the Son tried to create life like himself to no avail in the beginning. These creations were so abhorrent and disgusting that all he could do was cast them away into an abyss where the other two would never see their existence.
Amongst these Hellspawn were a dog with three gnashing heads of destruction and chaos, a behemoth with six wings creating tailwinds strong enough to shake lands, a wolf with eyes of Night and Day, and a spider with a thousand legs, each sharper than any blade edge could be.
Eden, however, would need beings to maintain it. The Son and Father, knowing this, and the Son's unwillingness to sully his hand with a task he deemed as menial, created two things, the penultimate and ultimate creations to be created. One was an object that would give life to all; the other, something to prolong the life of all.
"Their job is prolonging the peace, the beauty, the goodness of this world, allowing it to flourish under their care." The Father said, his hair full white, "'Our greatest creation'."
"They shall be cultivators of all life within these borders, shepherds to those around them," The Spirit replied, his hair a pure black.
"For this day, they will hold Eden as their home. These Guardians…They will be named only by a moniker that befits their status." The Son proclaimed, with a smile so large that it denoted happiness and pride for his work, "Angelicas…no…Angels. That will be their names."
The Son laughed as the final creation of Paradioso brought into this world was born.