In the very beginning there was darkness. It was cold and uncaring towards what it did to anyone. I remember it as if it were yesterday when in fact it might have been decades ago. Long before the fall and I was made a Triune. I was very young and very easily broken. My will was not strong and I had not the strength to control myself. The Voice saw fit to raise me to a higher power but I never imagined the horror it would bring me in the start. Life and death is an endless cycle. I give and Death takes. Or so I wish to believe.

In the very beginning The Mother as you know her did not exist. She was but a slump of a woman in a pitch black realm. She cried hysterically lashing out at anyone she could. She had killed her only child. It was not on purpose, she would never have the heart for such a thing. Still it happened. You see my dreams have always been rather vivid and sometimes I care not about dreaming at all. Sometimes I spend restless nights in my bed watching my youngest snuggle into the blankets around her. I do not let her stray far from my side, if I can help it.

Its these dreams that were so eerily violent. My power as I ascended in my sleep made our house fall in. I killed not only my lover but also my child. In the first month of holding my domains I kept to myself. Ignoring the calls of the conclave while I grieved. The Voice did not penalize me for it understood the love of a mother. It was at this time that I became friends with Moliira, The Storm Wolf. She helped me through my darkest days until finally I was able to stand on my own.

I reshaped the vast world around me in my realm. It became beautiful and light just as it should have been. I found the strength that maybe I had been lacking all along. If I hadn't been dealt such a blow early on I don't know how I would have handled the challenges of being a deity. It gave me my footing no matter how sad the situation was. Now I am a mother to many daughters and a handful of sons. I love them each and I would protect them if need be.

I've been having dreams as of late since the cracks in time began. I see another me, another life. It is a life filled with just as much sadness but here I am stronger. I am certain of it. 

Iva cannot sleep. I really should teach her to sleep in her own bed but I cannot bring myself to part with my greatest gift. She has been an anchor these past five years and I have yet to figure out what makes her so special compared to the others. As a mother I should not be favoring my children but something draws me to this child. Maybe it was her father.. but I will never say even if it was.