Still, Rowan had to wonder why he wanted to associate himself with the expected lifespan of other Realities, but he assud it was a way to feel connected with his roots.
He did not think his path would need to be connected with those of other Realities when he knew that following the sa pattern ant he had three more Eras to go through before perishing, since all Realities had to go through twelve Reality Eras before eting their end.
What Rowan found fascinating was the similarities between the Eras and his own experience, yet he did not take this similarity as gospel; you could discover connections in most things if you looked hard enough.
It did not an he was choosing to be blind when faced with multiple coincidences that coincided with his life experiences; he was just choosing to ignore them, knowing he would be capable enough to face what was coming. He had no choice but to be strong.
His ti in slumber was not wasted, because although he slept, his dreams had been enlightening. Rowan had finally decided the form all of his children would take.
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At first, there was a slight distinction between his children, those Rowan considered mortal, and any of them under the fourth-dinsional level; it did not matter if they were gods or elental beings. Without touching the fourth dinsion of ti, Rowan considered all to be essentially mortal.
Then there were the immortals, who were those who had beco higher-dinsional beings. Due to the extended amount of ti Rowan had spent as a third-dinsional being, many of his children living inside his dinsional flesh could not reach the fourth-dinsional level and had chosen to sleep away the years, hoping to awaken in a future where the path to the higher realms had opened.
Although, in real ti, using Eosah’s Reality as a standard, Rowan had lived for about 1.5 million years, using the accelerated ti environnt of his dinsional flesh, he had lived for nearly a billion years, and this was not adding the years he had spent in various mories and tilines where ti was warped and stretched beyond immortal comprehension.
If Rowan had chosen to add all those years altogether, then he would have already been alive for many trillions of years.
It was a good thing then that his children inside of him had only experienced millions of years; otherwise, many of them, without the ntal fortitude of a higher-dinsional being, would have long gone insane.
What was amazing about the ti in his dinsion was how malleable it was. There were multiple layers to his dinsional flesh, and each layer had different rates of ti. Usually, the lower the dinsion, the faster the rate of ti.
For those of his children who were strong enough to descend lower, they could enjoy a more accelerated rate of ti. A case in point was Tenma the Reaper, who had almost lived for eight hundred million years inside his dinsion, but there were other of his children, like Circe, who had lived for barely thirty million years.
After Rowan had reached the fourth-dinsional level, his rank had quickly increased, and although a lot of his children had been able to easily reach the fourth-dinsional level, few had reached the fifth; there was not just enough ti for proper growth before Rowan had to put them all to sleep.
However, this was not a bad thing because their progress would essentially have to be restarted when he began transforming them into Origin Lifeforms.
This was Rowan’s plan, a thorough transformation of their body and soul to fit into the new Reality he had beco.
Everyone would start anew, with equal talents and potential, but for those who had previously reached a higher-dinsional realm, they would have a bit of an advantage at the start, but if they did not keep their montum rolling, then they would be overwheld by the rising multitude behind them.
Rowan had thought deeply on the form that his children would take before deciding that he already knew the truth inside his heart from the first day.
Pushing his perception across his Origin Land filled with lush life and imnse potential, Rowan reached across it and gathered enough clay that, placed together, could form a million worlds.
And from this clay, Rowan fashioned the Mortals. Yes, mortals, this was the path he was going to pick.
This was one of his most radical and curious acts, and he chose not to make them powerful. Rowan made them frail.
He did not grant them immortality; he gave them a finite lifespan.
Rowan did not give them perfect knowledge. He gave them ignorance, and the burning need to fill it.
Their bodies were forged from the very elents of planets: carbon, water, stardust, but deeper in their core was the foundation of his Origin Land. If they dug deep enough, just like the way he searched for Origin, they would be able to find him inside them.
Within their fragile forms, Rowan placed a spark unlike any other—a Fragnt of Potential. This was not a piece of his own essence, but a sliver of the very concept of potential that had existed before the Archai. It was a soul, a consciousness capable of wonder, fear, love, and ambition.
He gave his children true freedom that existed outside his control, unlike the Archai, who were sentient extensions of his will; his children would have great potential, but one that existed outside his ultimate control.
This was the greatest gift he could give them, the chance to ultimately take the path they wanted in life.
Their realm was not the higher-dinsional substrate of the Archai. It was the Story-Space—the four-dinsional world of cause and effect woven by the Weaver. Their existence was defined by ti, by growth, by decay, and by the relentless, beautiful struggle against their own limitations.
Their purpose was not to maintain the engine of Reality, but to explore the house the engine had built. To find aning within the laws, not simply enforce them. To experience the tapestry of all creation from within a single, trembling thread.
And crucially, this Fragnt of Potential contained a secret instruction, a final gift from Rowan: The Capacity to Grow.
A mortal was not a finished product. Through experience, learning, love, loss, and the accumulation of wisdom across a lifeti—or across many, if their soul persisted beyond their first body—they could refine that spark. They could, atom by atom, mont by mont, slowly transform their mortal nature into sothing more.
They could, in essence, earn their immortality, not as a granted reward, but as an achievent of spirit. They could grow from fragile, ignorant mortals into wise, eternal beings, not by decree, but by journey. They would beco immortal not in the static way of the Lesser Immortals that existed in most Realities, but in a way that was uniquely their own, shaped by every choice they had ever made.
Rowan had wondered even with his imnse power if he truly had the capability to create his dreams, but he had succeeded, and his heart was gladdened.
A sweep of his hand crushed the bodies and souls of all his children, in their hundreds of billions. With the dominion over the soul, he ensured that every trace of a Primordial touch was gone, leaving them marked with the light of Origin, and he threw them into the bodies he had already prepared.
Rowan observed his completed work: the perfect, silent engine of the Archai, the beautiful, maintaining stewardship of his bloodline avatars, and the fragile, chaotic, and brilliantly unpredictable experint of Mortal life.
For the first ti, there was a sound in the Origin Land beyond the hum of its innate machinery. It was the sound of a wind he had not directly commanded, a wave upon a shore he had not directly shaped, a voice raised in song, or in question beneath stars he had not directly placed.
Rowan did not smile, even though he wanted to. But within his infinite consciousness, the curiosity was satisfied. Creation had begun. He would now observe what its creation would create.
This satisfied a fundantal part of his nature as a Reality, knowing that for the first ti since he was born, he had truly achieved his Destiny, he had beco Eos.
Rowan closed his eyes and fell into slumber, and when he opened them, a year had passed in real ti while a million years had passed in the Origin Land.
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