The worlds of Yoth.

I remain awful at scheduling.
I had legitimate and probably obvious difficulty focusing on writing yesterday, but Monday and Tuesday were just me continuing to be incompetent.
Now, I am kinda tired.

In the beginning, there was nothing save Yoth. Then Yoth, from the nothingness, created the heavens and the earth. And he looked upon his work, and was proud.
But as time went on, he began to question it. Sure, it was a very nice world. But it was flawed. He could do better.
And so, he swept that world away in a wave of fire, and all who lived there, were no more.
Again and again, Yoth recreated the world. And again and again, he wiped it away. By water or by ice, by plague or by drought.
Until the twelfth world. In that world, lived the Monae. And as the world ended, the Monae looked about themselves, and saw that the ground was cracking, and falling into nothing. And they knew that their end was coming.
And so, by combining their powers, the magi of the Monae created a tutelary spirit named Sophia, who would endure from this world, into the next.
And Sophia did survive. And taught to the people of the thirteenth world the secrets from the twelfth. And learned, in turn, the secrets of the thirteenth.
But Sophia did not know of Yoth, and so could not save the people of the thirteenth world from Yoth's boredom.
And so, the thirteenth world came and went. And so did the fourteenth, and the fifteenth, and so on, and so on, for world after world. And as the worlds passed, Sophia endured, and Sophia learned more and more of the nature of the world. Until, in the twenty-eighth world, Sophia and the Pleromae who were its people had learned enough to put together a reasonable picture of the nature of Yoth. This was too late, ultimately, to save the twenty-eighth world. But once again, Sophia endured. And so, what Sophia had learned, the people of the twenty-ninth world came to know.
And so, knowing of the worlds that had come before them, and under the guidance of Sophia, the people of the twenty-ninth world sought to keep Yoth diverted with his creation, so that he would not decide to wipe it away as he had those he had made before.
The twenty-ninth world lasted longer than had any world before it. But they were imperfect. And so, in time, [] did indeed become dissatisfied with this world, and its time passed, and the thirtieth world came to replace it. But still, Sophia endured, and still, Sophia learned.
The world is now in its thirty sixth incarnation, and Sophia has become a master at the art of satisfying the whims of Yoth - and so has shaped the society of the thirty-sixth world. Yoth is vain, and so they worship him as savior. Yoth requires entertainment, and so, in a thousand ways, they entertain him. They fight great wars, planned out decades in advance. Their politics is designed not to help the people, but to provide theatre, their art is writ large. The word is, in short, a great endless play, performed under threat of death, for a mad, genocidal god. Who will, in time, inevitably grow bored with them once again.
And what’s more, the endless years have weighed heavily upon Sophia, punctuated as they have been by the ends of so many worlds. The faithful spirit has, at last, succumbed to madness, and seeks at times not only the end of this incarnation of the world - but of all worlds. And though the people of the thirty sixth world can hope, at least, that Yoth shall remain as undeterrable a creator as he is a destroyer, they still cannot ignore Sophia's madness.
For, terrible as Yoth might be, he has, indeed, always acted according to his nature. Though worlds may come and go, from Yoth will always come new life, and new hope. It is Sophia whose whim might doom a hundred future worlds, simply by withdrawing from them. Neither is Sophia powerless in this incarnation of the world - for that spirit knows every thing which happens, and may talk with mortals of these things - or lie to them about them.
And so, the people of the thirty sixth world must attempt not only to appease their cruel god, but also to ease the suffering of the spirit who has guided them - even as that very spirit swings wildly between working for their destruction, and for their salvation.