The historical awareness of the average pony extends back but a few generations, a short enough time that the foundation of towns are seen as legend and the very real Defiance of Nightmare Moon is seen as myth. It is no wonder, then, that the origins of modern Equestria are seen with such a distorted view, and anything that took place beforehand is completely unknown. There are seldom few left of these ancient eras, for even Celestia had yet to be born. Let us journey through the mists of time, through the chaotic ages long lost, through the years before the sun, to the very creation of the world itself...

In the beginning, the world drifted through the cold emptiness of the void. No life grew upon it, no heat came from within or without, no winds swept over plains or hills, no rivers flowed, no seas crashed upon shores. There was only dead stone, barren and unchanging. The world sailed on under the darkness above. For eons, the world drifted on in silence, deeper and deeper into the void, orphaned and lost. It had been discarded into the frozen shadow, and it could not be found.

But found it was.

Out of the void came the Crafter. It had no name, nor did it have a title; its legacy could only call it by that meager word. It beheld the vast empty expanses before it, dark stone under a dark sky. The Crafter thought ill of this, and pushed back against the world. The world's course was turned, and it sailed into the starlit realm. Thus was the night created.

The Crafter turned to the land. It was dry, hard, and worn. No mountains soared, no valleys plunged, all things had been smoothed over as if wiped clean. The Crafter deemed this world to be dead, and the Crafter deemed this world would now live. It delved into the depths, passing within to the hardened iron heart. There, it began to burn. So hot was the Crafter's fire that the world's heart began to melt, heat flowing in all directions to the surface above. This burning took many ages to bear fruit, each one passing like a moment to the Crafter. When it returned to the surface, it found that the land was once shifting and buckling and sliding, while plumes of fire came up from deep below. Thus was the world's heart kindled.

But for all its might, power, and force, the Crafter was only one. An empty world was no world at all, and soon the Crafter would leave for realms beyond. It needed servants to work in its place. The Crafter drew upon the fires of the world, shaping them into something greater. In each flame, the Crafter placed its gift of spirit. To them, it gave the command of shaping the heat and direction of the world. Thus were the fire spirits created.

The Crafter then departed from the world for a time, traveling far into the night to bring back what it needed to create life in the flesh. While the Crafter searched, the fire spirits tended to the volcanoes and rifts with great care. Great chains of mountains were once again thrown up, reaching into the night, while deep trenches and valleys were formed below them. The volcanoes spewed ash and hateful gasses without end, pillars of clouds towering above even the mountains and blotting out the stars. Thus was the land re-shaped and the sky created.

While the fire spirits had given the world new land and a blanket of air to wrap it in, the Crafter had found its desire. It returned to the world, bearing the seeds of life, and spread them far and wide. The fire spirits hurled down masses of ice and metal and rock from the sky, letting the world do with them as it would, while the Crafter journeyed in the night to gather more. It was less than an age before the ice melted, creating the miracle of water. Thus were the rivers, lakes, and seas created.

They had wrought something incredible. But the fire spirits had no control over the water, which battered and lashed at their confines, bubbling with discontent. Once again, the Crafter drew water from the world, and gave it the gift of spirit. Thus were the water spirits made.

To the water spirits, the Crafter gave dominion over the seas and skies. To the fire spirits, the land and the the underworld. Together, they shaped the world from a wild and raging realm into a place where life could thrive. All that remained was to finally bring that life. From the fires, the underworld, the seas, and the skies, the Crafter drew and forged all into one vessel. It multiplied and grew, into unnumbered shapes and sizes. They fed upon the light of the stars and drew strength from the earthy surface of the world. Thus were created all plants.

Only one thing remained: The Crafter took its first vessel, and breathed into it the gift of spirit. It multiplied and grew, into unnumbered shapes and sizes. They fed upon the plants and each other. Though they were dim and witless, they were the sires of things far greater. Thus were created all animals.

The Crafter and its spirits looked down upon the world, and thought it good. Finally, the Crafter wove a veil around its work, to hide it from powers more dangerous. Safe in this hidden place, the world and its denizens would be far from harm. Now knowing its task was done, the Crafter prepared to depart for the final time, leaving behind the spirits to work onward. To the fire spirits, it gave the powers of restoration; and to the water spirits, it gave the breath of life. The Crafter left with a promise that should the spirits ever need aid, it was waiting in the far corners of the night. Thus the world was re-awakened, and ends the account of the creation of all things.

In their new domain, the spirits went far and wide. They were to watch over life, and ensure nothing went wrong. The spirits of fire and water numbered hundreds, the exact count has been lost to the mists of time. Most of their names have been forgotten, except for a few who were remembered by elder souls. They had no language, they did not need words to commune with each other. Instead, the first races gave them names of their own tongues. The names given to them numbered many, but foremost were Evanidi, Kaialîrîm, Hutherin, and Ahma.

There were the fire spirits, called the Ardenti, Vâthûai, and Skeinahma. Lord of the fire spirits was Verax, known also as Ar-Naihadrôs and Corthu. He was the greatest of all spirits; oldest and strongest. Verax had been the first spirit made by the Crafter, and had witnessed the creation of all spirits after him. It was Verax who wrestled with volcanoes and moved mountains, broke continents and raised islands. Only Verax could tend the heart of the world, guiding its heat to the surface wherever needed. It was said that when he walked upon the world, he burned like a star, rivaling those in the night sky. The second eldest of fire spirits was Stellans, or Evâr; her flame was calmer than her older kin's, and she was not as feared by the young races. From Stellans came the beauty of the underworld, as she folded, melted, and warped the rocks below all into wondrous arrays of colors and shapes. Though this task was not as mighty in deed as Verax's, Stellans's work came to be valued by all races. There were more Ardenti whose names survive: Sistrum, who partnered with Radix to make lightning and thunder; Ora, who melted stone; and Hio, who forged anew what Ora melted.

There were the water spirits, called Elutae, Andarai, and Marahma. Chief among the water spirits was Caelum, sometimes called Atai. Caelum was the lady of winds and rains, bringing her miracle to all places of the world. Never did she tarry in one place long, Caelum's soul always yearned to go onwards. Aetas, bearing the other names of Alde and Falîran, was her loyal servant, lady of the seas. She was wrathful, powerful, beautiful and amazing to behold. The young races feared and honored her power, and many even came to love her. Aetas called many to come to the seas, a call that once sounded never died. A lesser water spirit was the one who was named Sator. Sator traveled the rivers, going deep into the land and planting life to those regions overlooked in the Crafter's time. His writhing form was often seen lurking in dark and calm pools and side channels, where he rested from his journeys. Though far from mighty, Sator was well-known the young races, for he was always willing to aid those in need should they pass his test. Also among the Elutae was Radix the cloud-shaper, Thrascias of the ice and snow, and Macero, who had come to admire the fire spirit Stellans, and brought her water to use in her works in the underworld.

For long ages, all was peaceful. The world was filled with ever-growing plants; flowers bloomed, grasses swayed in the wind, and trees grew tall. There were forests and plains, jungles and tundras and deserts. The animals spread to all places of the world. Noble bears, swift deer, cunning tigers, spotted seals, and ponderous whales dwelt in the colder parts. In the middle lands, where the fires of the world burned closer to the surface, furtive leopards, mighty elephants, striped zebras, fierce porpoises and sparkling fish lived. Some would become great themselves in later days. All walked and swam in the night, the world lit in a beautiful and pale blue light, under a magnificent array of unnumbered stars to whose glory not even the spirits were resistant too. They were not the first, and they were not the last, to look above for inspiration and hope. Such majesty reassured the Evanidi; they knew they were not alone in the expanse of night, the Crafter traveled out there, somewhere far and distant, but never out of sight. Even Stellans and Macero, constantly hidden in the deep, would come to the surface to gaze upon the realm of stars. It was a reign of serene tranquility.

Yet with such wonder above them, the spirits began to grow lonely. In Verax's heart, it weighed heavily that he had done nothing of note but keep the mountains and lands moving. A thought entered his mind, a thought that would change the world: “I was born of the Crafter,” he said to himself, “as were my kin. Can I not do the same?”

Verax went into the heart of the world, and brought up a single flame. Around it he created a shell. The other Evanidi grew intrigued with what Verax was making, and many came to watch. When he had finished the body, he put within it the same spirit the Crafter had given the world's life. It was to Verax's dismay that nothing happened. “My kin!” said Caelum, coming down from the winds. “Fire alone cannot create life, let me aid you.”

“Do as you must.” Verax agreed. Caelum approached the body, and worked her art, just as they had done with the Crafter long ago. She stepped back, and the spirits rejoiced when the new body stirred. “Caelum, you have done well. Who among you will bring gifts for this child of flame?”

“I shall grant it the power to travel far into the sky.” said Radix, as she came forward. From the cloud-shaper came powerful wings.

“I shall grant it the love of the underworld.” said Stellans, who gave it a desire for the wonders below.

“I shall grant it resilience to my cold.” said Thrascias, as she thickened its skin and scales.

“I shall grant it the power to renew itself, so that death may never take it by course of nature.” said Hio, and imparted upon it his gift.

“Then it is done.” Verax stated. The new life they had made rose up from the ground. It stretched its wings and great claws, and let loose a mighty roar, Verax's fire bursting out from deep within. It was great in stature, scales black as the deeps of the world and hard as stone, with eyes of molten gold.

“We have made but one, and I worry it may grow lonely.” said Macero, for he had once known solitude.

“We ought to give it a companion.” said Stellans. Verax pondered.

“You, Stellans and Macero, work together in all things. We will make this creature a companion, and they shall live in partnership as you two do.” said Verax. The spirits gathered around, and made another creature in the first one's image. Its scales were white like the stars, more graceful than a silent forest covered by snow, and its eyes were as if diamond. Aetas, in her eagerness to be a part of this, added something special to this one, the ability to create new life within itself. Thus were male and female first created.

“Go, my children, and prosper.” Commanded Verax. The creatures departed, riding the winds of Caelum to the west. Many years passed by, and no Evanidi saw them. It was wondered where the creatures had gone. Only in the most distant region were they found by the lowly water spirit Sator, who was so delighted with them that he took a similar form henceforth. Sator swiftly reported their whereabouts to Verax.

“I bring wondrous tidings!” said Sator, when he had found the firstborn of all spirits. “News most marvelous!”

“Speak.” commanded Verax.

“Your children, I have found them. Far to the south and west of these lands there is a place between mountains and the sea: there they dwell.” said Sator.

“Take me to them.” Verax and Sator went swiftly forth, and the Lord of the Ardenti was pleased to find that they were living well in this remote place of the world. They had made a spoken language for themselves, and called themselves dragons.

They hunted animals for food, but their desire for the wealth of the underworld was an even greater hunger, and many would consume their own treasures. The black one had come to call himself Corthunien, the Son of Corthu. The white dragon was Feryalde, Alde's Gift. Feryalde was Corthunien's mate, and together they had produced a clutch of eggs that they carefully guarded. Six dragons came of the eggs, three male, three female, as these distinctions were named. In time, these three pairs had six more eggs each, and those pairs had six each as well. Thus the race multiplied.

Verax grew proud of his creations, as they slowly spread out over the world. Under the night sky of countless stars, only his dragons had the same wisdom and thought as the spirits did. The other Ardenti shared Verax's pride, as the dragons were born of their fire. With time, the Elutae began to wonder why Caelum did not create life of water. “Are we not just as mighty and powerful as the fire spirits?” asked Radix the cloud-shaper, as they gathered near an ocean shore.

“We are.” aaid Caelum to her kind. “Though we are the secondborn of the Crafter, we are not any lesser than Verax and his Ardenti.”

“Then why do we sit idly by while Verax's dragons roam the world?” asked Aetas, envy on her mind.

“Doubt not, for I have a secret.” Caelum assured them. She then brought forth a silvery light, cradled in her form of wind and mist. “I have created this.”

“What is it?” wondered Sator, who remained in the form of a dragon. He was taken by the magnificent beauty of this light.

“A powerful energy, made from the breath of life.” Said Caelum. “I shaped it in the form of the Crafter's energy, but it is not of the Crafter. This I made from the world.”

“How will we use it?” asked Thrascias, awed. This energy shined like a little star, as if pulled down from the endless night above.

“It is not for us.” Caelum told her. “We have no need of it. Rather, it is for the life we shall now create. Life born of water, not fire.”

“Tell us what we must do!” said Aetas. And Caelum spoke.

Author's Notes:

In case you didn't figure out who the excitable, river-dwelling, dragon-shaped, water spirit Sator really is... But I couldn't just go and call him that, right? One of those names doesn't even exist in this world, the other term hasn't been coined yet.
Anyways, this was written for the World Building Alliance's January contest. Originally, it was just going to be a one-shot precursor to Across the Sea, but like most of the things I write, it grew in scope and scale...