Everything was still.

I basked in the silence before the world was born.

I gazed upon the darkness of the void as the first whispers of creation stirred.

Chaos swirled at my fingertips, yearning for the embrace of order to define its essence and being.

Then it called to me.

A beautiful song only I could hear.

I orchestrated the Celestials.

I shaped the heavens and earth as I wove strands of light and energy into existence.

I was the creation.

A canvas of life unfurled before me.

A foundation upon which worlds and empires would rise and fall.

The very core of my being infused the earth with vitality.

From my soul came the world.

I was the conductor of tempests, the serenity in waves, the warmth within flames, and the salt in the soils of the earth.

I illuminated the cosmos, the inception, the dawn.

A herald of days, the sunrise on the horizon.

I was the beginning.

I was the foundation upon which the world stands, yet they have forsaken my memory.

My name is a silent whisper in the wind, sounds lost to time so long ago.

I was once the Primal of days, and now I am forgotten.

A Dawn awaiting its Dusk.