Written by Tori Brown
What came first? The star or the universe?
Primordia thought as she rested, cocooned by the emptiness of her vast cosmos. She did not remember sleeping or waking, only a waxing loneliness. Her body, heavy from disuse, stirred as she stood, and she wobbled and spun. Jets of stardust and auroras burst from her fingertips and whirled around her, lighting her once dark universe. Primordia delighted and danced, she leapt, and planets caught her like stepping stones. One as bright as the stars; seven more made of dirt, rock, and water. The smallest of them called to Primordia. She claimed this one as her own and named it Primordis.
When the Elves first landed in the West of Primordis, they were approached by Primordia, and she said to the Elves,
‘My children, eat of my earth, drink of my rivers, shelter upon this land. It is plentiful and all that you shall desire will be yours.’
The Elves were gracious and ate and drank only what they needed. They were few and long-lived; what they built was modest and had its own humble beauty.
When the Dwarves first landed in the East of Primordis, Primordia came to them.
‘My children, eat of my earth, drink of my rivers, shelter upon this land. It is plentiful and all that you shall desire will be yours.’
The Dwarves were thankful, but they were boastful. They ate and drank plenty, and they mined recklessly to build powerful structures, which could be seen for miles.
Tired, but proud, Primordia was unbothered. She wiped the sweat from her brow.
‘Aren’t the Dwarves resourceful, for now their industriousness is not so great an issue.’
The Elves, however, grew jealous. Though they built much slower, they began to develop rapidly, taking more and more from Primordia to match pace with the Dwarves—who were similarly trying to stay one step ahead.
‘Please, my children, enough.’
But the Dwarves and Elves grew bitter of Primordia, her resources too few, her weather too unruly, her needs too bothersome to the development of their great empires.
When the Humans first landed in Primordis, Primordia was depleted and alone.
They were a small family who had sailed in from the sea. They made their home on an island between the two isles where Primordia had taken up residence to keep an eye on the Elves and Dwarves. The mother and the father were a silent pair, and had devoted their lives to their five children. The eldest, tall and raven-haired, a weaver with a spark in her eyes. The second was like stone on seaside cliffs, strong, dependable, and weathered. The next, a pair of twins. A boy and a girl tethered by intertwined strings of light and dark, inseparable, yet, so dissimilar. The youngest brother was undefined, as most children are, but as the youngest, power had always been denied him and he was forever interested in its acquisition.
One day as the youngest brother searched for firewood, he found Primordia drifting amongst the flotsam near shore. He pulled Primordia onto shore and lent a selfish ear,as she bemoaned her role as God of Primordis. Primordia, sick of her godly purpose and sensing the youngest brother’s ambition, was struck with an idea.
‘I will offer you my power, but as with all things it comes with a cost.’
Late that night, the family slept, the youngest brother woke his parents and led them to the beach, where he slit his mother’s and his father’s throat, drowning the sand and the sea in red. The youngest brother washed his hands in the saltwater and returned to their camp, feigning sleep and then alarm when his siblings finally found the bodies. Primordia emerged from the sea one last time to finalise their pact.
‘Hear me now; it was your youngest brother who slew your parents. However, I am not one to forswear a vow. You are now the Gods of Primordis. And you, the youngest, are The Lord of the Depths, forever bound to the parents that you gave to the sea.’
And so, Primordia left for the skies once more, spreading herself across the stars where The Lord of the Depths could not reach her.
Author Bio:
Tori Brown (she/her) is a queer Meanjin-based creative currently studying a Bachelor of Fine Arts (Creative Writing) at QUT. She has been published in Glass Magazine, Strange Daze II, Uplift Poetry, and ScratchThat. She wrote “Never Blue” the headlining play for Vena Cava’s 2024 Freshblood Festival. In 2024 she was the recipient of the Kellie Van Meurs Memorial Scholarship for her contributions to creative writing at QUT. In 2025 she was shortlisted for QUT’s Allen & Unwin Prize. She has been active in QUT Literary Salon as both President and Social Media Manager. In 2026 she was an Editorial Board member with ScratchThat magazine. None of her works would be possible without the immense emotional support of her cat and the power of caffeine. Contact her via email at niwatori024@gmail.com or follow her on instagram @tori.writes.sometimes