Rite of Acceptance

From the writings of the Immortal Bard, who was an eyewitness to these events...before he bravely ran away.

The hosts of Chaos were endless, and they were winning. Brave sacrifices by our beleaguered forces had kept them at bay for two days, but we were stretched to the limit. And then it arrived, riding its skeletal dragon. The Nameless itself, cloaked in the body of a gwerin mage, the fool who had summoned it from its prison in the Abyss, thinking to control it. Even the greatest of dragons on our side quailed before the waves of power emanating from it. Our forces began to fall back, toward the Mothertree, hoping (largely in vain) that its powerful aura could shelter us for a while.

What saved us, in the end, was utterly unexpected. A sound, a trembling, a groaning, audible over the sound of the battlefield, coming from the south. Spells began guttering out or running wild; conjured creatures began vanishing or exploding in showers of anima. The gods themselves fell silent, and the elements and kami began screaming. The Cataclysm had begun.

How did that save us? Bereft of the air-aspected anima needed for flight and cut off from the vital essence of the world, Atijok fell from the sky and the Nameless's sorcery failed. A last force of heroes rallied, burning their own life force to fuel the strike, lashed out, bringing the ancient horror to its knees. But it wasn't enough. Drawing on hellish power, the puppet body stood up again and a wave of fell power lashed out, stripping the souls from the heroes. And then, weakened by that strike, the most ancient of beings saw their chance. Eight figures, made from light, coalesced on the battlefield around the Nameless, each one bearing a Fang of Resolution. They were the Primordials, the First-Created, kin to the Nameless, for he was one of them before the beginning of all things. They did not turn the blades on their rebel brother (for the Fangs cannot be used that way); instead they said the Words[1], later known as the Rite of Acceptance, and plunged the Fangs into their own breasts. With this act, they ended the age of Primordials and enforced Order, accepting Change (for that was the original name of the Nameless) into the world forever. From that day, all creation has freedom of will. No more are people born to evil or good, to law or chaos. Not even the angels or devils. All must choose for themselves and bear the consequences of that choice.

[1] These are the words:

(Spoken in 8-part unison)

Outcast, Rebel, Stripped of Name and Station

Abyss-dweller, Prisoner, Bringer of Chaos

Now we greet you as Kin and Kith

(Spoken by the four representing the elements, in harmony)

When the elements were ordered, when all was ordained and structured

You counseled for limits to that order.

For freedom to become.

(Spoken by the Primordials of Death and Life)

Without Change, growth and creation are impossible

And death but a mirage

Eternal progress without Change is stagnation

(Spoken by the Primordial of Darkness)

I raised my voice against you, for I feared chaos unbridled

But what means stability without Change?

What benefit to Memory, if all is as it ever was?

(Spoken by the Primordial of Light)

The Law was spoken

The Law reigned

But what of the sinner?

Without Change, can breaches (for breaches must come) be healed?

(Spoken in 8-part harmony, triumphantly)

For Change we name thee,

Brother, Companion

And in token of this acceptance, now given

And in recompense and to seal the vow

This Sacrifice.