The Light-Bringer

by Bad_Seed_72

Enuma Elish

In the beginning, there was no beginning. What has always been will always be, and what was will be again. There was no past, no present, no future. There just was, in the quantum Now, in the state of which the All and the None simultaneously existed. There was no light, for there was no darkness. There was no heat, for there was no cold. There was no day and no night, no dusk and no dawn.

There were only the Ancients and the Sacred, who are sometimes called by ancient sages and books Elohim. The Elohim each had a translucent shape, solid and hollow. There were as many Elohim as one, and many more as two. They were infinite in their insignificance, full of might and magic and life and death and all things between. The Elohim were figures and beings and bodies of all shapes and sizes imaginable in the imaginary beginning, but they are not important.

There were two particular Elohim that were important, and they are known by infinite names in the present time.

The first—if "first" is an adjective that can apply—Elohim was silent. Ancients later referred to It by a myriad of names: some feminine, some masculine, some both, some in-between. But the first Elohim was not so much genderqueer as gender-neutral, existing outside the boundaries of language, unable to be captured. The Silent was the undercurrent, the Source. The Silent looked about the cosmic plane of nothingness and wholeness and spoke its formless, toneless words into the void with its empty, unmoving maw, and birthed the Second Elohim.

The Second Elohim was more active, opening Its blind eyes and taking sight of all that trembled beneath It, which was nothing. The Second spoke with a voice that could later be called the roar of a lion, or the boom of thunder, when those things were palpable and not just words. Some have theorized that the Second came into being when the first sentient creature formed language, but that is not important.

The Second and the Silent were of enormously incompatible natures; the Silent made its presence known senselessly, a still wind over the face of the deep. The Second wanted to be known, if an Elohim can be said to want anything. Truth be told, the Elohim just were and are and will be, wherever they are, which is everywhere and nowhere.

The Silent was fluid, later compared to grains of sand on an endless beach or a single thermal whipping through acres of forest. The Silent let itself be known by not revealing itself, darting away from the others and those that were to come, appearing only in riddles and symbols and words. Words, of course, gave birth to the Second, but the Silent came first.

The Second deemed itself to be masculine in the genderless void, and willed itself to speak. It spoke a phrase that would later be passed down in the annals of time and history, in a thousand different tongues. It spoke the most powerful phrase, the one from which all other phrases and thoughts and ideas and beings flow.

"I am," He said.

When the Second spoke, He birthed many more Elohim from His tongue, of a thousand visages and a thousand different forms. Their forms were, as later language could pinpoint, mammalian and reptilian and avian and even those of great fish, with strengths and wills and edicts and rituals myriad as the stars that would later dot the sky.

One of the Elohim was a creature of nightmares with chaos in his heart. He, too, chose to be male in the genderless void, a choice that only Elohim could make in the beginning. There were no chromosomes or even chromatids back then, no twisted double helix spiraling and waiting within gametes and cell membranes.

Though, this Elohim cared not for order. While the Second formed His own world from the primordial ooze of the everything-nothing, creating and demanding order from his creation, this Elohim grabbed the cosmic chessboard and flung the pieces every whence where, sending them flying and swimming and running and gasping.

It is this next Elohim who is important, unlike the others.

~

When he came to be, the Elohim whose formless heart was Chaos chose a name for himself. He chose the name Discord, which would later be known as a synonym for Chaos, in that plane of existence from which all things flowed.

So, Discord first gave himself a name and a gender, then gave himself a form. He chose the form of a beast that would later become the definition of his name, so great and terrible and contradictory was his form. He gazed upon the ideas and handiwork of the Second, and assembled from the Second's great taxonomy his own beast. While the Second was a seven-fold spirit, Discord, in his jealousy, became a ten-fold one. Upon his head, he imprinted a mark of his visage, which reflected his beautiful and terrible actualization.

Once he assembled his form, Discord then went to another patch of formless, shapeless void of the eternal beginning. With paw and talon in opposite, symmetrical directions, he wordlessly willed light and dark to be, as the Second had done.

Discord, being one of the more vain and prideful of the Elohim, chose darkness and light to embody a portion of his form. So, from one-tenth of his form, he created two beings: Solaris and Galaxia. Discord willed Solaris and Galaxia to be Elohim, and they became so.

Solaris and Galaxia would later create the planet of Equus, and the continent of Equestria, in that same plane of existence from which the Second sprang.

Discord went on to create many more Elohim from each portion of his fleshy spirit, even more than ten-fold. From his talons and hooves and fingers and breath and might and magic came the everything-nothing in his own portion of the void. The Second continued in His own, bringing order and dominion and law into the cycle of planets and continents and lands and tribes He called His Chosen. Discord saw this and laughed.

Instead of issuing commandments, Discord said, "'Do what one Wills' shall be the whole of the law."

Discord set his Elohim and his Elohim's creations free into the churning blackness-light of everything-nothing. Discord, the spirit of Chaos, cared not for law and order and guidance and discipline. He cared only to be, and to create, and to amuse himself, and to further his pride as Elohim, a creator in the endless void.

Underneath it all, the Silent flowed, and though it was displeased, did not punish Discord.

Punishment would come later, but not from the Silent.

~

Discord came to favor Solaris and Galaxia most of all amongst his parentless children. Solaris took the form of a mighty white alicorn, his mane the canvas of Equus's sunrise and sunset. Galaxia took the form of a mighty violet alicorn, her mane the blanket of Equus's night sky.

Galaxia and Solaris created a new race of beings upon the face of Equus. They were miniature versions of the two alicorns and one-tenth of Discord, albeit weak and trembling. Discord saw this and laughed. "Only one race?"

"Yes," said Solaris, his glistening muzzle facing his creator. "There is only need for one."

Discord laughed again and dipped his claw in the petri dish of Equus's ocean. From the tip of his claw, he created two more races of ponies, making them three. They were all variations of himself and the alicorns.

Then, Discord asked the two alicorns, "Have you given them Will?"

"No," answered Galaxia, her eyes shadows of the moon against Equus. "There is no need for Will."

"They shall be as we have planned," explained Solaris. "Their lives shall be written and measured, to be judged as we see fit."

Discord shook his head in the everything-nothing, creating more Elohim with his displeasure. He then waved his talon and paw and granted the three races of Equus the gift of Will. Galaxia and Solaris did not object, sensing his wisdom in doing so.

"Choose wisely," Discord warned, knowing the power of Will, "to whom and what you grant this blessing."

Solaris and Galaxia nodded. They proceeded to create the rest of Equus—its gryphons and dragons, its zebras and minotaurs, its bears, birds, fish, rabbits, alligators, and many more creatures. These were all borrowed creations of the Second—and many reflections of Discord—but were made with the same method. The pair of alicorns granted the blessing of Will upon some of these species, but not all.

Once they were finished, Solaris and Galaxia became as the Second in their rule, lording over their creations in the same tapestry and plane of existence. In awe of their power, they soon became haughty and demanding of their subjects upon Equus. They issued commandments, ordered temples to be built, blessed those who praised them, and punished those who did not.

Soon, Discord was not pleased.

~

Eons of meaningless, immeasurable time passed. Discord looked out from his formless throne in the everything-nothing and frowned particularly at Equus. Solaris and Galaxia had become heavily, omnipresently involved and present in the dealings, woes, thoughts, and hearts of their creations—particularly, in those of the three races Discord had blessed. This angered Discord, for it was he who made the other two races, and blessed all three with Will.

It was he who should be praised, not the alicorns.

Discord crossed the void and brushed back the veil that hid Solaris and Galaxia. He asked them, "Have you forgotten?"

Galaxia and Solaris were confused. "Forgotten?" asked Solaris, tilting his head.

"Have you forgotten who gave sentience to those who worship you so much?" Discord demanded, an ancient anger rising up in him, fueled by his pride. "What monuments or temples do your creations raise in honor of me?"

Discord pointed to the planet of Equus and, within it, an ancient temple in the heart of a forest. Hoof-crafted marble statutes of two great alicorns lifted their horns and wings and hooves to the Heavens, and many of the three races came to prostrate themselves before their idols. "They worship false gods!" He growled, his wings flaring, his talons unsheathed, his spiked tail coiling.

"Discord," Galaxia replied calmly, "you care not for order, or discipline, or commandments, as does the Second."

"You are as the Silent," Solaris added.

"Let us be what we are," Galaxia objected, pulling back her mane of starlight. She began to charge up her horn. "Let creation honor those it resembles, not the monster that came before it."

Before she could utilize the blessings of her creator and destroy him, Discord charged into Galaxia.

With magic tunneling through his veins, he cast his Will to be, and ripped Galaxia's belly wide open, splitting her nearly in two. She made no noise as she returned to the everything-nothing from which she came.

Solaris, seeing his counterpart slain, raised his horn against his creator. Discord snapped around and caught a blast of dark magic on his forehead, burning his sigil away forevermore. Enraged, he slashed open the skull of Solaris. Solaris, too, became as silent as the Silent, returning to the void of his birth.

From the belly of Galaxia and the brain of Solaris, Discord created two new Elohim. He created them not from his own body, but from the innards of their mother and father. He named these Elohim Celestia and Luna, and set them free upon Equus to live out his Will. These two would not be free, as their parents had been.

Solaris and Galaxia, being Elohim, became something else, as did the Second. Discord remained, for he was not yet obsolete. So did the Silent, for it was unseen. The Silent raised no opposition against Discord, the spirit of Chaos and the vengeful Elohim.

~

Celestia raised the sun at dawn. Luna raised the moon at dusk. There were no other duties assigned to them. Discord both forgot and remembered himself as he descended upon Equus after the destruction of Solaris and Galaxia. He controlled and disciplined Celestia and Luna, limiting their power and magic.

To everyone and everything else upon Equus, Discord showed only his true nature. Majestic fields of grasses and flowers turned to checkerboard. Snow-capped mountains were flattened in the snap of his fingers. Discord flipped the sky of Equus upside-down, and commanded Celestia and Luna to raise their beacons at random intervals.

Discord's reign did not end there. In his rage, he created monsters to destroy the temple in the forest, and all temples in Equus that bore statues of Galaxia and Solaris. He cared not for the sentience he had gifted the ponies, nor the same blessing bestowed upon other races at his creations' discretion. His pride wounded, his bloodthirst ignited, Discord became a jealous Elohim, smiting thousands in his rage.

He unleashed a wave of plagues upon Equus. He sent toads and frogs to rain from the sky, halting the flight of the pegasi. He ordered locusts to swarm the Earth ponies' fields, devouring their crops. He sent boils to mar the horns of unicorns, impeding their magic. Discord turned the waters into blood and filled clear skies with hail-heavy clouds, which rained a torrent and a tempest for days on end.

When the ponies of Equus continued to raise statues and paint paintings and sing songs of Galaxia and Solaris, Discord damned them with terrible sicknesses and death of firstborn foals. Death had not existed on Equus before Discord ushered it into existence, for Solaris and Galaxia were never cruel. But Discord, in his hardened heart, cared not for them anymore, and wanted them to know the pain of the grave and the void.

All the while, Celestia and Luna saw the plight of their subjects, and wept. Discord spared the two alicorns, as long as they did not intervene. They did not, until Discord created Death, and then they could stand by no more.

The two alicorns stood on Mount Canterlot, watching the weeping and gnashing of teeth in the villages below. "My sister," Celestia said through her tears, "we must stop this."

"Yes, sister," Luna agreed, her cheeks matted with her sorrow. "We must."

~

Celestia and Luna, through a magic they did not understand and would never understand, defeated Discord, but not before he brought Death into the world. They wept for his creation, for their ponies, for Equus, and for the everything-nothing, which now knew death and could never unlearn this.

The tale of their battle against the spirit of Chaos himself is a long one, but it is not important.

What is important is that Discord, one of the Elohim, was defeated but not destroyed. He may as well have been.

In his stone prison, Discord was Elohim and not-Elohim. He was Galaxia with her belly slashed and spilled, Solaris with his skull cracked open and revealed. Disharmony and whimsy flowed from his spirit nonetheless, and he still created, as does everything when it ceases to be what it was.

Here, his magic and Will were for naught. He was immortal still, as endless and formless and voidless as the Silent and the Second, but yet he was not. He was in the everything-nothing and in the stone through the endless eternity that followed his imprisonment. His magic may have faltered, his limbs may have frozen, but his thoughts did not, and he explored back through the everything-nothing, and spoke with the Second and the Silent.

The Second sympathized, for He was in the same state; the Second was forsaken due to His cruelty, a mere footnote in the annals of history and the hearts of His creations. The Second was no more, just as Discord was no more. The Silent still was as it was, and said nothing, but it listened to Discord's lamentations, its shapeless heart breaking for him.

Discord was still the Spirit of Chaos, and one of the first Elohim, but he was not loved, and he was not worshiped.

He was remembered as a monster and a tyrant. He was not remembered for his blessing, for his boon of knowledge and reason and willpower and self-actualization upon the lowly races of ponies.

Discord became associated with darkness and pain, agony and torture, death and misery. Never once did anypony or anyone remember him as the light-bringer; he was only the trickster serpent and the destroyer of temples.

Discord wished to return to the beginning, even though there was none in the first place, and wasn't, and never would be. He wished this, even as he knew it could never be.

Discord waited in his stone prison, crying out for his fellow Elohim, but none heard him. None heard him because there was only the Silent of all the Elohim, the Ancients, the Sacred. The same plane of existence that sprang forth the Second and the other Elohim forgot them, dismissed them, and destroyed them, because it didn't need them.

The everything-nothing, the source from which all Elohim flowed, knew itself enough to not need the Elohim anymore, and so They ceased to be.

However, the everything-nothing did remember Discord, and chose to immortalize him thus: