God of Bionis

Love

Ether caressed his hands like water, swirling around the pale palms and moving directly as he willed them to. Icy blue eyes gazed down at the endless ocean, the very first step of their creation. Klaus, now known as Zanza, stole a blue glance over to Meyneth, busy creating her own titan; Mechonis was the chosen name for it, if he recalled correctly. Both deities had their own perfect design of creation in their divine heads, Meyneth's being one of machinery and technology, while Zanza's was filled with natural life. 

Even as a mortal, Zanza had always been a daydreamer, creating worlds in his mind. May it be imagining some fantastical creature in a queue, doodling some mystical landscape when he was bored or designing his own creations in his spare time. The land was populated with this. All fragments from his mind; Zanza would of course never admit this, but it was also fragments from his mortality. But he wasn't mortal anymore. 

"Mechonis..." He murmured, looking back to the titan which was being constructed by his mighty hand. As the life upon there was mechanical, he supposed it only made sense. "I shall bestow this name upon you... Bionis." 

As the titan bloomed with life and nature thrived upon its body, Zanza couldn't help but feel happy about his creation. 

Rosie, a young Homs girl, gathered fruit that sprouted from the trees. She had to clamber up the branches to reach the most luscious ones of all, and the aspiring baker was determined to. 

"Come on!" The brunette whined, reaching a grabby hand up to a specific fruit which had caught her eye. It was fat, soaking up the sunlight at the very top of the tree. She grasped on to a branch, overestimating how much weight it could carry. With a snap, the girl was hitting the grassy ground, the berries she had collected rolling on the floor around her. "Ow!" She hissed, rubbing her back. She felt tears well up in her green eyes, her bottom lip starting to wobble, but the Homs refused to cry. She wiped her eyes, suddenly looking behind her to hear a voice that sounded familiar. 

"Rosie? Rosie?" 

Her mother. She called out in return, feeling slightly relieved as not be be alone, but a little wary of the possible lecture she would get. 

"Oh my Zanza!" Her mother exclaimed, pulling her onto her feet and brushing the dirt off of her. "I told you not to climb trees! Especially not today! We're meant to look our best when visiting a temple!" 

Rosie was dragged along by her mother, looking back at her now lost berries mournfully. She looked up at her, pouting when she realised where was no way she would be allowed out the house anytime soon. 

"Wouldn't Lord Zanza be happy with me using the fruit He has blessed us with?" She retorted, looking up at her mother with skepticism. 

"Watch it, young lady." 

"It's just a question..." Her mother's sharp tone did not deter her. 

"We show up in our best clothes at the local temple because we appreciate our god's creation and His love. It is the least we can do, alongside worship and prayer." 

With that, Rosie was dragged inside and rubbed furiously with a wet rag and soap, cleaning all the dirt off of her little face and made to change into a pretty pastel pink dress. Her frown as her mother tied ribbons into her hair was needless to say, a giveaway that the little girl was not happy. 

"Mum, I look stupid!" 

"You look lovely. Now, we're leaving or we will be late." 

Rosie was pulled out of the door, practically dragged up the stone path into the main part of the nearby town, the great temple looming over them. Everyone was bustling about and talking, forming a line to file into the holy place, but Rosie was naturally curious. So when she saw a group of people chanting something under their breath with eyes locked dead upon the group, she tugged in her mother's sleeve. 

"What now?" The understandably exhausted woman asked, looking down to her daughter then to what she was looking at.

"Who are they?" Rosie asked. 

In response, she was pulled further into the crowd, her mother not letting her look at the group. "Rosie... everyone in Bionis worships Lord Zanza, but different people worship in different ways. We are part of Zanzanity, Zanzains. We believe He is a loving father to us, that we may pray to Him when we are troubled and that He bestowed this wonderful land upon us as a show of His love. There is also Zanism, a religion which meditates upon what He wants for us and how He wishes for us to live. There are Zanzaites, those which constantly praise and worship, there are Zanzations who prepare for our Lord to come down to Bionis and they will attend to Him. But..." 

Her words momentarily fractured. "There are other religions too... Zanzams believe He doesn't love us, instead looking down in disappointment and contempt. That we are not living how it was intended and Zanzams take it upon themselves to... get us to change. There is the Highest Entian Church, full of High Entia who see themselves as the master race. There is Zanzadoxism, believing Lord Zanza hates the Mechonis and we must destroy it." 

"The big black clunky thing?" Rosie shuddered fearfully. The looming Mechonis was often nightmare fuel to young children on Bionis. 

"Then there is the Cult of Ether. They think Lord Zanza will eat us! That we are only His food. They regularly sacrifice beings, even themselves to be... consumed by Him. They were cultists." Her mother explained. "Pay them no mind, all the scarier religions are the minority and are complete rubbish. Lord Zanza loves us. They are just mislead."