Chapter Text
The waters churned violently. In the distant Atlantic Ocean, a storm was building. Animals and birds had vanished inland, hidden away, shuddering in fright. And then, everything went silent.
The first tremors began beneath the crust.
The agitation under the earth clawed its way to the surface. At the western edge of the land the ground thinned, weakened by floods and time. Then it collapsed.
A roar. A rush. An unstoppable wall of water forced itself inland, swallowing vegetation, drowning valleys, pulling helpless animals into its depths. The earth, once solid, was undone.
And riding the crest of that wave was a horse.
But this was no ordinary creature. It was immense; its hooves churned the ocean itself. Wherever it galloped, the sea followed. The horse didn’t simply ride the flood, it commanded it, shaping rivers, tearing through plains, turning ancient land into scattered islands and salt-choked marshes.
It galloped until it reached the highest peak in the region. There, the waters curled around the mount and froze; layer upon layer of ice, thick as memory. A glacier formed, sacred and strange.
And on that peak, the horse shifted.
Its limbs stretched. Its form lengthened. It reared, cracked, and reformed—into a towering figure. Human-shaped, but not human. Too tall. Too vast. Too heavy with presence.
He stood still, surveying the sea he had called into being. His eyes reflected lightning. His breath echoed thunder.
He had no name yet.
But later, the world would call him Posedaon. He would be named Wanaka, king of the gods. Enesidaone, earthshaker, lord of storms, of ruin.
He was not kind. Nor gentle. His nature was forged in the flood, born from destruction, shaped in the silence between quakes. He mirrored his domains—restless, overwhelming, and vast.
Where others brought life, he brought change.
And on that glacier-throne, cold and glistening under the stormlit sky, he waited.