Beauty, in the Beast World

Creation

{AN:As the creator of this story, I want to take a moment to inform my readers that in the upcoming chapters, we'll be stepping away from the main plot for a while. There are numerous details and backstories I've only briefly touched on, and it's time to delve deeper. If you've journeyed with me this far, you know that one of the unique aspects of my tale, setting it apart from other Beast World novels and fanfictions, is the mythology woven into it. In these next chapters, we'll explore the ancient creation myths that shape this world, revealing its origins and the truths hidden within. However, a word of caution: as some may know, please understand that for some characters, "There's no happy endings, not here and not now, that's not how the story goes." – Lemony Snicket.

From the void, a single light blinked into existence, piercing the endless darkness. It flickered like a lone star in a boundless sea of nothingness. From this light, consciousness began to stir, coalescing into form, and thus, the God of Beasts came to be. He hovered alone, the only beacon in the vast, formless expanse. Time had no meaning here, yet it weighed heavily on him. An eternal existence, but with no purpose—no one to share in the light, no voice to answer his thoughts.

With a deep longing, he wished for company, for something other than himself. His desire swirled in the currents of creation, and with a thought—a flash of light—the darkness was filled with countless glowing orbs, scattered like diamonds across the heavens.

The God of Beasts blinked, astonished. His loneliness, once an all-consuming ache, lessened as he marveled at the beauty of these new creations. Stars, he thought. They are stars. But even as their light twinkled in the distance, he knew it was not enough. He desired more—a world, a place to shape and mold, a home for life.

Drifting through the cosmos, he came upon an object—a large, desolate sphere, suspended in the nothingness. His curiosity piqued, and he hovered closer, inspecting its lifeless form. The surface was barren, void of anything that breathed or grew.

"Perhaps this shall be the beginning," he murmured to himself. "A... planet," he decided, naming it aloud for the first time. "Yes, a planet."

He stood for a moment, considering his next creation. Raising his hand, he beckoned the clouds into existence—soft, ethereal, and white, they billowed over the planet, swirling like the breath of a sleeping giant.

"Clouds," he whispered, satisfaction gleaming in his molten-gold eyes.

But when he tried to rest on the clouds, he found himself slipping through them, his form still formless—energy without substance.

"This won't do." The God of Beasts furrowed his brow, his mind racing. "I need a form, something tangible. A body that can touch and shape the world I create."

Closing his eyes, he focused, drawing upon the essence of creation itself. His thoughts began to take shape, and soon his body followed. A towering figure emerged, his form radiating raw power and ancient wisdom. His skin, sun-kissed and bronze, gleamed in the light of the stars, marked with glowing tattoos that pulsed and shifted like living constellations. Each mark told a story, an ancient pattern embodying the spirits of beasts that had yet to be born.

His hair, dark as the deepest night and streaked with gold, fell in wild waves down his broad back, reminiscent of a lion's mane shimmering under the morning sun. His piercing eyes glowed with the heat of the dawn, molten-gold irises reflecting the fierce vitality of life and the eternal promise of creation.

His physique, muscular and powerful, rippled with the strength of a predator in its prime. Every movement was fluid, graceful, yet brimming with untamed ferocity. Across his broad shoulders, he wore a regal cloak of thick, dark fur—stitched together with gleaming bones and feathers from legendary beasts that had yet to walk the land.