In the beginning, there was only one goddess—if you could call her that. She hovered below the bedrock, trapped against the void. For many centuries, she dozed. But then, one day, she woke. Her loneliness nearly ate her alive as she regained consciousness. To remedy it, she created three sons for herself.

  She crafted their bodies from bedrock so that no one could ever hurt them, then mixed in the essences of biomes to give them life. Her first two sons she made strong and capable; she named them Onicent and Dauntice. But when she looked at them, she realized they would never truly need her as a mother. So, when she created her third son, she made him smaller than the first two. And when she completed him, she named him Maiguh.

  For a short while, she was happy with their company. Together, she and her sons floated in the endless void and darkness. Her sons spoke often—of many things. Things not of the void, but from above. The old goddess tried to content herself with their stories, to assure herself she’d been right to make them down here. But soon, she began to realize: in the void, her sons could never grow. They had come from above, and she had pulled them down into her prison. Though they all loved her dearly, none would ever be truly fulfilled. So, one by one, she sent them away.

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  Onicent and Dauntice left full of ambition, though of course they carried regret at leaving their mother behind. Both promised they’d return to free her. She tried not to show her sadness. Maiguh, on the other hand, was less inclined to leave, even though he missed the world above. Once—twice—he tried to go join his brothers, and each time he returned to her. She could tell he was suffering.

  Finally, his brothers returned for a day to see them and convinced him of the wonders of the world above. At last, he left too. He also promised to return—and of the three, he kept that promise best.

  From time to time, a son returned to her. But they came infrequently, and she missed them terribly. Only Maiguh stayed at her side for long. Eventually, she began to fall back into a deep sleep. She may have been dozing, but her sons—fresh and ambitious—were only just beginning their journey above.