Spotlight: Sowm and the Creation

First there was an ocean, a vast concourse of water that grew and stretched the bounds of all existence. The jharethil call it Norahaltath, which by interpretation is the Sea in the Void. There was no air, no land, no life; just the endless churning of a drowned universe.

In time the whirlpool lurched and Norahaltath divided at its heart. The water steamed and became a roaring hurricane thrashing out from the center and encircling the sea. Where the pressure from the tempest was great enough, the sea froze solid and became earth. The air wrapped the sea, the sea wrapped the earth, and in the center of the earth was lit the first light.

The Four Worlds by Chris Cold

The Four Worlds by Chris Cold

The light burst through the earth and sea and storm, sending showers of flame and ash into the naked cosmos. All things bathed and were purified in the light of creation, which the jharethil call Mahat. The sacred flame seared the slag and detritus, sparking it into life and consciousness, burning and yet not consuming. In the heart of the wreckage loomed Salvendum, Source of our Joy and Sorrow, the First of Four Worlds.

About Her girdle swirled the other three worlds, orbs of reckless dross hurtling through the tenebrous abyss. The closest world is called Iltallach, or Nearest Fire, by the jharethil. The second they call Vinramar, Bones Beneath the Heavens. The third is Morvugol, Farthest Sight. Between and around these orbs is a void, the gap of nothingness that the jhareth elders name Nieshalar, which by interpretation is called the Darkplane.

As the ashes plunged into the seas of the four worlds and cooled, they awoke. Many remained below, but nine rose into the light and, marveling, were refined into living souls. They are called Irvallath, the Primordial Laborers. When Salvendum saw the Nine had awoken, she spoke through the Darkplane so that all could hear and feel her thought.

She said: I am Sowm; from the heart of the Fire I command the winds and the seas and the earth. Ye have your being through me; I command you to rise and build.

— From The Labors of the Irvallath by Bram Genning