


BOOK I
ANIMALS
After conditions on earth became more livable following the extermination
of the lizards, which to the blessed ones above would seem like a mere few
hours, the holy Jólian gods planned to create animals to populate the earth,
hoping that they would produce prayers to them up above.
The gods figured that bribing those mysterious Feìts would help them achieve
their goals. “You three strange siblings,” one of them asked—it matters not
who said it, just that they were trying to allure the sisters—“if you were to have
it, since you appear to dictate the flow of destiny and you seem to have control
over all things, living and dead, mortal and immortal, big and small, purple
and green, blue and orange, feathered and scaled, fantastic and otherwise.
The point we're trying to get to is that we are in need of creatures to pray
to us, strengthen us, and live in fear of us. We tried to do so with the lizards,
but they proved to be mindless beasts. So, we're asking if you can decree it
so that these next creatures we place on earth make it so that they can act
pious towards us obey our every whim. If you make it happen, we'll give you
some pepperoni pizzas to eat. They're very delicious, especially with soda.”
Ïestùr, the holder of moist clay, Nao, she who writes on the moistened clay,
and Cómin, who solidifies the written clay tablets with a single touch, replied
that they would consider the gods' offer. They didn't say it at the same time,
obviously, but that was the basic gist of their answer. The Jólian gods, however,
did not realize at all that they were just duped by the trio, who really showed
no interest in the deathless ones' bribery.
With artificial confidence placed within them from the Feìts' deception, the gods
got to work on peopling the world with new, more obedient species.
The spawn of the flame, all on their own, created smaller lizards including
serpents and salamanders, crawling insects that crawl on the ground,
the fearsome black bee creatures with yellow stripes and their evil red
stinger, the other evil stinging beast known to men as the scorpion, the
miniscule spotted ladybug, and the brutish, fanged man-eating aquatic
predators, the sharks, even though those beasts reside in flowing Òchen.
Broad mother Ürt and all her lovely offspring made out of mud and wood
and stone creatures that live beneath and directly on the great mother herself—
the majestic, galloping horses and other equine animals, cunning and fierce
canine creatures, and the moles and the worms, the beings that reside deep
inside the holy mother earth.
As would be expected, the sea gods made aquatic animals that swam inside
sinuous Òchen, daughter of moist Uáter, like the various fish, the whale,
the seal, and Good Humor ice cream. They were born from the ocean's
mud, the naturally occurring salt of the sea, and their Cannon large format
printers. Èr, the breeziest of the original four gods hatched at the dawn of creation,
as expected, birthed flying animals such as birds and winged insects.
Similar to the lizards that preceded them, the animals were tolerated by
the Jólians in their first millions of years of existence. However, it was
becoming obvious very quickly that they were unable to offer prayers
to the gods or to do their bidding or to do the excruciating chores that
the ones up above did not wish to do.
The millennia slipped away through the flow of time and nothing changed.
Above in Mount Jóli, the gods, the mighty ones who are responsible for
everything without which we mere flies cannot have a hope in hell to
survive and live, were considering eradicating the furred, feathered, and
scaled pests, as they did with the lizards in the previous chapter.
But none had any idea on how to do it. They didn't feel like repeating
themselves by dropping another giant rock on the animals. The gods
were getting thirsty and decided to get a drink.
