Alas, the Coming of Balance and the silencing of its older, Primordial siblings did not herald the peace that the cosmos yearned. Even in wounded slumber, the might of Destruction could not be contained, while pieces of Creation exploded with intellect. As the Souls Incarnate of the ancient Primordials treaded violently upon the delicate creations of Balance’s age, Four Horsemen rode to meet in the field of battle, as in the end, so in the beginning.
First came Famine, First of the Horsemen, Incarnate Soul of Destruction, its Will to return all to the Void. Such was its insatiable appetite that not even Destruction would prove safe from its predations. Raging at this betrayal in its slumber, Destruction raised temperatures to fight the parasite its own desires had spawned. Before the will of its dreamer, Famine was forced to flee only to find a new feast: Balance, whose body formed the prison bounding Destruction. Desperate were Balance’s attempts to contain the Black Horseman, weaving ever denser materials around it, encasing its prison’s core in metal. It was then, it is said, that Silubaster was created, a metal so strong and imbued by Balance, that not even the primordial forces can breach. If true, this miraculous material proved too little, its creation too late. Famine tendrilled maws churned through the surface of Balance and reached the cosmos beyond, forging holes of emptiness against the fabric of reality. And as entire Stars were lost, their nature was revealed: Shards of Creation, sent flying in the emptiness of the Cosmos.
Spurred by the agony of its peers, one amongst them, the greatest of their number, awoke. Vulnerable on its own as much as its peers, this Shard forsook its place in the heavens. Sweeping through the cosmos, it rallied its slumbering brethren, uniting them against Famine, urging them to regain control of the empty cosmos and reclaim by force their place in existence. Soon, a Celestial Host, the greatest fighting force the universe had ever seen, was marshaled. And at its head rode Conquest, Second of the Horsemen, Incarnate Soul of Creation.
Unlike Balance, the Host could answer Famine on multiple fronts and, unlike Famine, which was driven by desire and instinct, Conquest had purpose and design. One by one, the tendrilled maws of Famine were cut off, before others answered somewhere else, only to be severed too, again and again. For the first time in the cosmos, something was stirring, something new, something that, even as Creation’s shards were reveling in it, resonated with Destruction. And as echoes of endless conflict raging through existence reached the slumbering Primordial, its matching dreams… stirred. And into the fray rode crimson, bloody-handed, Third of the Horsemen, Second Soul Incarnate of Destruction: War.
War rode to answer Conquest’s challenge in kind, drawing on the blood of Destruction that now coursed under and over the surface of Balance/ From it, it awoke an army of Destruction, to match heralded by Conquest. And instantly, the cosmos exploded in conflict, Conquest’s visionary genius ever countered by War’s ruthless efficiency, a mirror of the endless wars before Balance. But as the Hosts occupied each other, Famine was left unchecked; and from the pain it caused, Balance gave in to despair and wept. Its tears tracked their way through the scars opened on her surface, cooling the violent blood mixing it with the spilt Essence of Creation, bringing forth perhaps the greatest miracle in all of existence.
Life.
Smitten by its fragile beauty, Balance threw caution to the wind in order to preserve Life. It led the tendrilled maws of Famine to the heavens, offering stars to hide motes, feeding it mountains to preserve crevices. And Life bloomed under the gentle care of the slowly dying Primordial. Before long, it outpaced the devouring maws of Famine and, without ever realizing it, the First Horseman found itself assailed on a million fronts, its essence matched and contained by the miraculous power of Life. Soon, Life was growing everywhere, swimming where it couldn’t grow, crawling where it couldn’t swim, and flying where it couldn’t crawl, blocking all possible avenues of escape from within Balance’s prison and healing Balance.
For the first time, Balance could take the offensive and slowly but surely, Destruction was being smothered, slipping ever deeper into its slumber. But its sleep was haunted by the incessant echoes of whispers and calls, of myriad feet and endless roots ever thundering their cacophony down the Primordial’s prison, challenging its desire to return to the silence and stillness of the Void. And from that dream of Silence and Stillness, crawled out a quiet, inevitable curse against the Primordial’s tormentors. Death, Fourth of the Horsemen, Last Incarnate Soul of Destruction, rode pale unto the cosmos.
It is said that, as the first living creature died, Balance, which had borne the incessant gnawing of Famine at its very core with no more than silent tears, let out a wail of sorrow and despair that pierced the heavens. Death stifled Life relentlessly, a single touch enough for bright, vibrant continents to turn dim and silent across the surface of Balance. Only the hardiest of beings survived the reign of Death while, freed from the constraints of Life, mindless Famine renewed its assault. Soon the tide had turned once more.
But from across the void, Balance’s desperate cry was heard. And the Dragons answered.
Born out of the endless possibilities of the battles between Creation and Destruction, the first Dragons were beings of primordial might, a product of chance when opposite primordial powers fused, rather than cancel each other out. Existing, thus, in Balance but not born of it, they were aware of the conflict between the Hosts but remained uninterested until they, themselves, witnessed Life. Driven by curiosity about its endless possibilities, they entered an alliance with Conquest, joining the side of the Celestial Host. With their help, Famine, War and Death were sealed, while the legions of their Host cast into the Elemental Cores to be ground and recycled into Balance. True to the agreement with the dragons, Conquest and most of its Host were broken and scattered to the edges of the cosmos. Life, overseen by Dragons, was preserved.
The time of the Horsemen was over.