Imagine a world with no conflict. A world with no fighting or unnecessary harm whatsoever. A world where people are not put to death for crimes, a world where crime is a term known by none.

Everything is lively, and when people finally pass, there is no pain. No one is ever hurt, everyone is happy, and it is a world of purity and peace.

Are you imagining it? Good, taste all the happiness of that world, suck it up and fill your bodies with it. There is enough for the lost, the poor, the sailors stuck at sea, the rich, the fast, the slow. 

It is beautiful, a land with no blood on it’s dirt, no sadness reflecting off of it’s waters. Do you like it? Do you wish to go there? Well, here is something that I must tell you.

This place does not exist. 

It never will.

Though there are many worlds, many lands, and many seas. There is no such place as a peaceful ocean or a silent sea. There is always noise, always fighting, and always conflict. And even before a world begins, it is never quiet.

Before a certain world began, there was nothing but a small star known as Xisju. Meggaannums ago, the star split in two and from it came the spirit of life. As it touched the empty space of the unborn world life began to sprout around the void. Grass, dirt, and rocks tangled together to create the ground, light breaking through the star created the sky, and just below the horizon, still creatures like flowers and trees grew underneath the light past 

the clouds. 

The star grew a body and took the form of a god on earth. Xisju stepped across the land and wherever she went, the birth of plants and animals would follow. She spent her days giving the world life, fueling each creature with happiness and a drive to live, while spreading peace over the earth like a warm blanket. 

But as we discussed before, there is no earth unless there is unhappiness and corruption. Creatures began to grow hungry, feasting off of smaller animals and plants to gain both a full stomach as well as order. Xisju could do nothing but watch and create new species which only fed the hunger of the conquering animals. 

Her work and her creations were both going to waste, she could not protect her creatures if they continued to turn on each other and consume more and more all for the hopes of one day extinguishing their gluttony. As life ate itself away, Xisju could feel her own spirit decomposing into the nothingness she began with. 

She decided to have someone else take care of life for her, someone who could continue to thrive even after she had been reduced to less than dust. Though it would have to be her final sacrifice, she worked underneath the shade of an old oak tree for years, doing nothing but refining her new creations as the earth slowly crumbled around her. 

But in time, they were finished. A small group of beings who she named the Resra were finally prepared to bring peace to Xisju’s world. Over time, the goddess’s form had become too weak to even watch over her new children. So she let them go, and allowed herself to waste away near the old oak. Her magic seeped into the earth then flowed into large empty areas of the earth, forming oceans, lakes, rivers, and seas. 

Her left eye became the sun which would observe her children during the day, and her right became the moon which would bring them comfort when nighttime came. Xisju’s being was spread past the earth, giving light even to the night sky and sprinkling the void with even more stars.

The Resra were now the dominant species of the world, considering themselves the true descendants of Xisju and letting their pride blind them. Now, you probably know what happens next. The Resra begin to have issues with infighting and eventually chaos unfolds between them. 

The species were split in two by the color of their skin. Black Resra thought that they were the stronger ones, and believed that only they should rule the land while White Resra argued that they were spiritually more superior and had greater connections to the goddess of the land.

They had many wars, lives were commonly lost, and peace was never brought to the land. To this day the Resra still have conflict over the land of Xijuah, they never truly came to a peace treaty and neither side would ever want to give in, even after meggaannums of blood constantly being shed.

And that’s where the story could end.

It could end with a simple moral, a moral of not letting your pride blind you. 

But what if there’s more to a story than just how conflict came to be?

What if I told you how the war finally stopped?

What if we didn’t have such a simple moral?

What if we dug deeper?

Deeper into the story of Resaa Ametrine, Chance, and Atlas.