The Creation of Asteriis and it's universe, Elnth.
Thrash Barahn winced as the Moonspear pierced through his thick gray skin, just below his rib cage. Quickly spinning with the blow, he managed to free himself from the weapon in time to parry the oncoming swipe of his second opponent's sizzling axe. Thrash Barahn's burning, pink pommeled dagger, Purifier, roared as it met the electrical arcs of Pain Reaper, the huge axe. His two foes were gaining the upper hand fast, and they all knew it.
Seturnis, worked the Moonspear feverishly, in and out repeatedly, managing a few small hits upon her hated and skilled enemy. She could already feel the adoration she'd receive after slaying the wretched leader of the unicaxi, a race bent on destroying all that was holy in the Fahln. Using her massive feathered wings, Seturnis brought herself aloft, a few feet back from the fray, positioned to hurl the blessed Moonspear as her foe was deflecting a mighty blow. She knew the Master Defensyr, Thrash Barahn, could evade or block all but the very best of strikes. Yet Seturnis also knew that the axe of Hixuultan, a hated enemy in his own right, carried an ability to hold a blocking weapon captive for a moment after contact. That ability may catch their enemy off guard she thought. As she saw the sparks and flame erupt when axe met dagger, she deftly pitched the Moonspear straight for the gray heart of Thrash Barahn.
A deep grinding of boulders was the growl that issued from the red muscled chest of Hixuultan, The Bringer of Sorrows. He towered over the scrawny form of Thrash Barahn, and while he could cut down demigods with his enchanted black axe, this one was dancing around nearly every swing. The pointy eared, fair skinned whelp of an ally wasn't faring much better. So when Hixuultan saw the dainty spear tip sink into the hide of their common foe, he heaved with all of his strength in a downward chop. While the Unicaxi Offensive had weakened each of his kind, the blow remained devastatingly strong. When the chop was blocked, Hixuultan turned his head to avoid singeing his eyeballs from the resulting shower of flaming sparks. He then noticed the spear flying tentatively home. As expected, Pain Reaper magically, yet briefly, welded itself to Purifier, and Hixuultan pulled slightly, better lining up the wretch with the flying Moonspear.
He was lying on his back when his eyes cracked open. He could see the blackness of the universe stretched out before him, dotted with pinpricks of light. He noticed that the sparkling blackness was interrupted by a long shaft of white, and then realized, as it quivered, it's origin was his chest. The Moonspear had reached it's mark. Thrash Barahn felt no pain, a gift of his race, yet he knew his remaining breaths were few. Knew that the magic of Purifier, still in his grasp, was the only thing keeping him conscious, alive.
“How can it be, this way,” he spoke as much to himself as to his killers standing out of sight. “You each exist as but confirmation of the other. Without one, the other is none. It seems to me now clearly, that Good and Evil not only need one another, they deserve one another.”
Thrash Barahn raised his gaze to spot the two natural enemies, blankly looking down upon him. He calmly lowered his eyes back to the blackness, and with his last strength, he suddenly pierced out with Purifier with a wry grin. With blinding speed he aimed the needle sharp tip of Purifier for the brightest star he could see.
It seemed then to the demon and angel that time itself shuddered as the impaled unicax stabbed his blade into the sky. They could see the very blackness of the sky rip apart at the tip of Thrash Barahn's dagger. The two then felt the air around them rush toward the tear, as it sucked in the dagger and the hand that held it. As the dagger was torn from the ever so skilled Thrash Barahn, it's magic left him as well. His arm fell from the tear as it closed suddenly. His hand was a but a tattered bit of gray flesh, most of it's bones gone with the weapon they had once loved holding.
The nearly skeletal hand floated. Lightly spinning, slowly shedding bits of flesh as it went round, and round, still clinging to a beautifully burning dagger. The flames appeared as seaweed in the calm undulating currents of the sea. Drifting casually to and fro as they danced in the nothing, their light the only evidence of total darkness. Embers intermingled with flesh and bone. Metal embraced blood. Magic swirled from the dagger and washed over the whole affair. And so it would go for eons as the new universe swelled and swelled. Elnth and it's planets, moons and stars were thus born. One of those children is Asteriis, the planet upon which this story/setting shall continue.