The Creator of Worlds
By EvilFuzzyDoom, December 2005
Wrote this piece for LokisRose, cuz she's such a generous soul, she deserves something in return blaugh
Men have spoken since the most ancient of times of how all that they see came to being. They have taken in what stands around them and disbelieved in mere chance. Some higher purpose, they thought, must be behind this bold beauty and contrast of forms. Some arcane hand must have graced the dull earth and given it life, breathed into it the very essence of beauty which now flourishes here. The rock, once lifeless, now gives birth to wondrous things, and this miracle puzzles, amazes, the strange, ape-like beings which now roam its surface. That which is born seeks now to bear in its imagination its own creator.
But, like in many things, man has it wrong. He is sculpted not from the dull earth on which he spends his paltry existence, but from the stuff of wonder, the purest essence of imagination. In one of the universe's greatest ironies, what many now consider their creator to be, they are. And what they are, is a product of the imagination.
*****
She sits in her workshop, the lights dimmed as she goes about her work. Her tools are but her hands and mind. With a delicate touch, she lovingly gives form to the wonders of her mind, her creation taking shape before her. Intricate detail is no bother for her, for she takes joy in her art. It is a labour of love, a joy in all things beautiful, which she undertakes.
Worlds of colour, of light, of elegant yet bold complexity all come to her crafting-space. Each task is laid out before her, considered, turned over and over in her mind before the first move towards the creation is made. Not one mistake will be accepted, for perfection is her goal. The slightest flaw, the merest imperfection, and the magic will not work. The spark of life stems from inspiration, but it must be bound by labour.
No task is too great for her, no product unimaginably vast. Entire universes take shape here, not mere worlds alone. For scale has no meaning here, only beauty, love, and the wheeling, heady joy of instilling these first two into something tangible, that it might be shared by all. For the gift of giving, whether it be life, beauty, or even a simple, shiny trinket, is what she truly lives for.
