Chapter 1: A Cycle
It was said that long ago there were eight deities and their twelve other companions that created the earth. They were said to have completed an impossible challenge; to create a new universe. For this, they were rewarded with the newly born universe, and were given the status of godhood and what was apparently "circumstantial immortality". Of course to reach this goal, many lives were destroyed. Parents and children died, entire planets were sacrificed, all for the eventual inevitability of recreation.
The meaning and history of these godly figures was easily forgotten through time; their legend becoming obscured and poisoned. Many people would attempt to retell their stories, but only the earliest of humans could ever comprehend the truth. It was actually quite simple in a complex way, everything was laid flat to the inhabitants of the new Earth; every feat was to be taken at face value, the events happened, in which order it is never known, but the young humans understood that as long as it happened, the order did not matter.
New religions took the place of old stories; now considered fairy tales, they were of no significance to the ever changing human beings. It was found unbelievable to consider that existence itself was in the belly of a frog, and that new concepts had always been consistent in their previous nonexistence. A never ending paradox was what they were, and the more humans evolved, the more they rejected the ideas of old.
A cycle it was. Almost poetic in a way.
The rejection took form. Fueled by negativity and positivity alike, a Yin to a Yang, the dead became the messengers of the gods; prophets of their legend. They too, forgot their purpose with time.
"Though the oldest of us never will." a child, a man, and an elder said to himself. His smile was not of amusement, but rather it pondered, questioned, and wondered of the long forgotten, as even the omniscient could not comprehend them; they were absent from his view.
He was one of the first prophets; one of the most trusted, given a purpose by the Seer and the Knight. The gift of Sight from the Seer, and the gift of Time from the Knight. Used together his gifts were formidable, and a great responsibility, but of course he could be trusted as through all of the years, everything remained stable.
"All is as it should be."
Until a young boy of fourteen years of age had his life ended, and renewed at the same time. A paradox. An anomaly.
And then a group of teens traveled to a haunted town for a boy dressed in blue's birthday.
"And yet nothing will ever be as it should."
The child, man, and elder gently placed both of his palms on his face to bury the headache he was bound to feel soon.
FACEPALM COMBO X2!
O-o-o-o-o-O
What's this? A Homestuck and Danny Phantom crossover?
Yes. Yes it is.
And it seems I have finally found the beginning of this story I needed to propel my ass through actually writing it.
I hope y'all are ready for this, I have a tendency to tie lore together so this is in fact an AU.
Oh boy.
~Gryff