I

Concerning the Religion of Ārhmanhaḥ

The religion is governed by a priestly order known as the Arhaḥmān: those who are devoted to Arhaḥṃār. As one would expect of them, they are tasked with performing various sacrifices and officiations in relation to the Gods. There is one high priest per town or city, with various categories of priest underneath them. And as will be discussed later, one cannot rise to this station unless they are born with the powers.

The holiest of scriptures known as the Vādrunṃs are seen as the highest authority from which all further spiritual knowledge can be derived. Yet with this said, they are not really texts or scriptures in their original form, but rather a collection of oral hymns, spread into five or perhaps six distinct parts. Many of these hymns are concerned with eulogizing the Gods and, at certain points, dispensing in verse, elements of philosophy. They were, at one point, treated as a whole, with no sections between. However, the sage Vādruhaḥ Thoesyum, understanding that the entirety of these hymns could not well be understood by the generations that would come after, not least orally, put to pen all the hymns of the thousand-fold branches.

Each continent in Ārhmanhaḥ ascribes itself as adherents to a specific part. One could assume that there are perhaps five or six different religions all centered on these hymns, but this could not be further from the truth. The concept of religion as it is understood here differs vastly from our own world. The boundaries between culture and religion are indeed very thin, and the religious customs that could be seen as native to a specific people or area are not really native at all; they are simply more specific to one group than another.

To better illustrate this, if we take Sanatana Dharma, or Hinduism as it is known colloquially, there are a multitude of sects, divisions, and goals within this one religion. Some seek to cultivate higher powers, some search for self-realization, some seek passage to the heavenly realms where the demi-gods and celestials reside, and then there are those who seek liberation through god in its many manifold manifestations. Some gurus and scholars go so far as to say that this one religion could be expanded to include even the old belief systems of Europe, the Middle East, and East Asia. But the key point to take away from this is that none of the people who are part of this religion see themselves as being of a different faith per se from another, regardless of how their various practices might differ.

Similarly, so too must we understand that the people of Ārhmanhaḥ do not see themselves as following different religions, but instead different paths under the same one. In fact, the labeling of religion perhaps does not make much sense at all, for it can be said that there really is only one religion in this world.

And so, one can see that the peoples of the various continents worship the same gods, though perhaps under different names. Furthermore, they all believe and accept as fact a unified history that involves all the various peoples of the world, including the Gods and the Demons. Disputes arise from time to time, but they tend to be more in relation to specifics of the nature of the Gods, of That One and All, and of themselves. Indeed, many debates over many eras have persisted on these topics, with various individuals and saints giving their own perspectives on the matter, much of which was considered being of greater merit than anything the priests and the lay-folk could surmise.

Which brings us to a much greater point of contention: That being known as Arhaḥṃār. While hitherto mentioned in passing, there are few that truly understand what this being really is. In fact, the vast majority can only see it as but another god, though whether that is true is not yet known. It might surprise one to hear that the concept of God as we know it does not readily exist in this world. The people themselves cannot see beyond the Gods or even conceptualize something beyond it. Nevertheless, Arhaḥṃār does contain attributes that would make it very much in line with our conception of God, at least in the very general sense. But for now, its specific nature and purpose remain a mystery.

II

Concerning the Primordial Syllable

The people of Ārhmanhaḥ, as with many religious adherents of our world, have their own affirmation or sound that they utter called ĀḤṂ. Its function is very similar to that of both Amen and Aum, but is much more closely related to the latter. In Ārhmanhaḥ this syllable is said to comprise four parts, namely three elements: Ā, Ḥ, (U)Ṃ, and a fourth non-element, silence. Indeed, this syllable is very similar in characteristic to that of the Aum but with the exceptions that the ĀḤṂ places much more emphasis on the Ḥ sound, which when uttered is done so with a steady exhalation and that the Usound is only slightly pronounced as compared to its usage in Aum.

The syllable itself is said to have arisen in the void, when Ishvhaḥṃār, the first progenitor, uttered that sound upon the creation of the universe. It is further said that the world rests on that one syllable, its vibrations being felt and heard throughout all the souls known as the Ārhmaht.

III

Concerning the Ārhmaht and Vukyhaḥ

The soul is understood to be distinct from the body it inhabits and further, that the being itself – whether, a plant, animal, or man – is said to be the soul inhabiting that body. Moreover, its will, while its own, is also governed in part by the Goddess Ārhmahthaḥ, who abides within all the living entities, watching their every action, as it were.

Thus, by the union of the two, does transmigration occur for the soul, and it is understood by all the inhabitants of this world that reincarnation is a reality. This further leads to the understanding of liberation, known as Vukyhaḥ, for it is understood that the world is mired in illusion and that one’s goal is to seek liberation from that illusion.

Now, the goal of the liberation is understood differently by the practitioners of the religion, dependent on their own convictions. And so each has their own answer concerning the goal in relation to the Ārhmaht. Even the sages have their own understanding, different from that of the layperson and the priests, yet rarely will they ever dispense such knowledge.

IV

Concerning the Dehaḥṃār

The Gods are the highest emanations of celestial, heavenly, and natural forces that pervade not only Ārhmanhaḥ but the entire universe. As such, they are treated with absolute reverence even should they at times act in ways that are not befitting their station.

Some of their offenses include: their disruptions of austerities performed by various sages and ascetics, who may or may not have had noble intentions by their cultivation of higher powers; their role alongside the Demons (who were at the time gods in their own right) in casting away those beings who would become the Mānuzhhaḥ; and their debated role in the great war between the five brothers of the Unified Kingdom, that led to the fracturing of the singular landmass during the Era of Tribulation.

But it did not matter how many offenses they may or may not have committed, for the people of Ārhmanhaḥ knew, in heart, what their roles and purpose were, as assigned by the progenitor Ishvhaḥṃār. And so, while reverence is given toward them, it does not mean that the people, irrespective of station, feel disconnected. Indeed, many of the Ṃārhaḥn see them as brothers and sisters, with the exception of the Forefather Dyashuhaḥ and the Foremother Ārhmanhaḥ, who are viewed more so as parents and indeed are seen likewise by the other gods and even the Demons, save for Ishvhaḥṃār, who stands as the parent to even them.

While the Gods are seen as immortal, they too had their own births, and it is believed by most that they have existed throughout the many cycles of the world after their awakening. The Gods of the Dehaḥṃār, excluding the primordial progenitor, the Foremother, and the Forefather, are listed in this section of the Atneṃārhaḥn alongside their various epithets and designations:

Upon the Earth, the Sky showered himself across the barren plains, bombarding her with celestial objects. When the onslaught had subsided, the heat and the lava rolled and settled across the Mother. And as time passed, the Heavenly Father released his waters upon the surface; the land eroded, deepened, and expanded until deep valleys and great mountains were carved upon the surface of his Celestial Wife. It would be some time ere life would spread through the face of the Earth, but the Mother secured a small area upon herself, upon the tallest of the Mountains, from where the Primordial Lights and Darknesses descended to the surface. From the melding of the two with the soil of the mountain, there awoke, by the consummation, the Dehaḥṃār.

The Sky and the Earth seeing this, were glad of heart of what had risen, and making haste descended in form to their children to bestow names: first came Samiztrahaḥ given the epithet of the Sun who was sent to wax the power of the myriad suns of the Heavens and the universe; then came Zayagñavhaḥ given the epithet of Fire, whose duty was to alight the Flames that would guide the Ṃārhaḥn; then came Vyāythaḥ who was given the epithet of Wind to breathe life into the Ṃārhaḥn; then came Naktshuthaḥ who was given the epithet of Stars to be a wayward guide for all; then came Svyamhaḥ given the epithet of the Moon of where she would take her abode and guide the souls of the fallen to the Halls of the Forefathers; then came Vreshahaḥ given the epithet of Water to cover and bind as his role; then came Brhpathhaḥ who was given the epithet of Space, for he was to be the eyes of That One to behold and experience through the vastness of the infinite; then came the foremost among them Dusdrahaḥ who was given the epithet of Thunder to stand as the valiant warrior, one day to become King, and who would protect the Ṃārhaḥn from the evils of the world; then came Eruhaḥ who was given the epithet of the Host to guard the Heavens and the Ṃārhaḥn with his myriad armies of Celestials standing with them as their commander; then came Sangmāhithaḥ who was given the epithet of the Song to evoke fervor and passions within the Ṃārhaḥn; then came Tomaiguhaḥ given the epithet of Nature to stand as the guardian of Life; then came Zūrkhahaḥ given the epithet of Wisdom to guard and bestow the universal knowledge; then came Nilṭhrahaḥ given the epithet of Friendship to seal the faith of kinship and connections; then came the twin Ashphaḥn given the epithet of the Horse to stand as the physicians of the new realm, mending and healing its hurts; then came the Vuryothaḥn given the epithet of the Storm to stand as the companions of Dusdrahaḥ and aid him in all that he did; then came Ushı̄vhaḥ who was given the epithet of the Dawn for she would alight the spark of realization that each of the Ṃārhaḥn would seek; then came the Vhrabhaḥ who were given the epithet of the Artisans to fashion the world in glory of the Highest and That One; then came Purchhaḥ who was given the epithet of Causation to bring the Ṃārhaḥn together, to make them thrive and prosper in the world; then came Ayirhaḥ who was given the epithet of Nobleness to bring right mind and conduct to the Ṃārhaḥn just as a father and mother do so for their children; then came Hrajanyhaḥ who was given the epithet of Word to bestow the power of divinity to all the Ṃārhaḥn; then came Ashutṛhaḥ given the epithet of Truth to uphold justice above and below; then came Angshaghaḥ given the epithet of Reward to govern the actions and their consequent results of whom all were subject to; then came Vshephaḥ given the epithet Fate to uphold the Cosmic Law and preserve Khāryaḥ; then came Īrshevhaḥ given the epithet of Destruction to guide the Ṃārhaḥn in spiritual evolution by destroying the cover of ignorance and when it should come, bring the universe to an end by way of the Cosmic Ritual; then came Daryurhaḥ given the epithet of Death to be the closing dusk upon the life of the Ṃārhaḥn and spirit their souls to where they should go; then came Haventhrhaḥ given the epithet of Bliss to act as the gate to the pleasure of the infinite; then came Fignishthaḥ given the epithet of Knowledge to act as the gate that would clear the darkness of ignorance; then came Matashhaḥ given the epithet of Thought to arouse the minds of the Ṃārhaḥn; then came Vachhaḥ given the epithet of Speech to bring forth the myriad sounds of the Mouth; then came Ārhmahthaḥ given that most important epithet, Soul, abiding within all the Ṃārhaḥn as the highest force, uncorruptible and supreme witnessing all the lives of their brothers and sisters for all time; and the last as the singular unit of the whole of the Gods the Vimādhaḥṃār given the epithet of All.

These alongside their parents were the thirty-three Dehaḥṃār, the first-born of Ishvhaḥṃār and the titles for all subsequent gods that would arise from the cycles of dissolution. Thus did the third act of creation finish.

EXCERPTED FROM PHARVANṂ PREVŌHSUYAḤ
SECTION: COSMOGENESIS
SUBSECTION: OF THE GENESIS OF FORMS AND FORMS OF GENESIS

It is unfortunate, however, that due to the splitting of the continents, the Gods slowly silenced themselves to the pleas of their siblings and children, and it was not long after that the people believed the Gods had wholly abandoned them. Yet never did they lose hope that they should one day return, and so they kept ever diligently to the various sacrifices. It was said that the Gods would grow weak and destitute were the Ṃārhaḥn to halt their sacrifices. While the Gods did not physically eat the offerings, it was understood that they needed them for some level of spiritual nourishment that could only well be understood in a metaphysical sense.

V

Concerning Khāryaḥ and Zvokhāryaḥm

Much can be said on these two ideas, but I shall be brief, for they will be discussed at much greater length in the later parts of the epic. Khāryaḥ cannot be readily translated into English, much like its counterpart Dharma. Yet it can be expressed as meaning something akin to ‘the natural and righteous way of living’. It is seen as the principle that upholds everything that is good in the world and that binds a person’s moral character to their actions.

A person who does not follow Khāryaḥ cannot in any way be deemed to be good. As to what constitutes Khāryaḥ, it is any action or state that is untainted by ego or illusion, and can be said to bring a person to the Light. Concerning Zvokhāryaḥm, it referencing the ultimate purpose of an individual, is used to such an effect so as to be able to uphold Khāryaḥ throughout a person’s life. And as has been said before by the smith in the mist, a person who follows it to the ultimate point will indeed obtain liberation. While most if not all folk try their hardest to live with such an ideal, it is very difficult to follow with utmost discipline, and often the average person will not pay much attention to it. So long as their actions do not cause unwarranted harm to another, that is enough for them.

VI

Concerning the Stratification of Society

There are four main classes or castes of individuals as part of what is known as the Verhaḥn system: The Yōzhdaṛ, Varizhhō, Shrahaḥtrayan, and Arhaḥmān. It was said in times long past that these four, while set in a hierarchy with ones higher up being accorded more respect, were not to be viewed as being lesser or greater than another of their kin, for each had their own purpose as given by their Zvokhāryaḥm. Indeed, without these principle stations, no society would have been able to function.

During the higher ages, individuals could move between each of the classes provided they were qualified. In fact, it is more accurate to say that the Verhaḥn system during this time acted as more of a classification scheme, meant to organize the various occupations, duties, and roles under this four-fold hierarchy. But by the time of the Era of Unification, it had become wholly rigid. The only exception to this rule, during the Era of Dissolution, was for those who wielded the powers, who, if they chose, could move to either the stations of the Shrahaḥtrayan or the Arhaḥmān. The latter was preferred due to the waning of the powers and their needed use for the priestly order, but in either case such exceptions became increasingly rare.

The Yōzhdaṛ comprised all the lay-folk and those who were attached to the earth. Much of their work consisted of menial labor, farm work, and acting as stewards or servants. Even those who had yet to reach adulthood were considered, in all respects, to be Yōzhdaṛ as well, until a time came when they could choose either to remain as they were, or rise to the other stations based upon their own proclivities. While one could assume that others regarded lay-folk as beneath them due to their status on the lowest rungs of society, such a thing was indeed rare in the higher ages; it was a time when all understood that without these lay-folk, no firm foundation could rest for the other three classes. Indeed, no society could exist at all, and so they were accorded respect as was befitting their position.

The Varizhhō comprised all craftsmen, artisans, and merchants. One could say such folk are the equivalent of the middle class today; their duties brought much wealth and culture to the various kingdoms, and it was seen as the highest priority for them to accumulate as much wealth as could be had. While such wealth was regarded as their own, they would also pay a portion of it as taxes to the lords and regents. In addition, while it was not mandatory to do so, it was expected that they distribute another portion of it to the Arhaḥmān, who would in turn officiate sacrifices and use the donations to support themselves.

When concerning the Shrahaḥtrayan, this includes not only kings, lords, and regents but also warriors, statesmen, ministers, and the general aristocracy, in what could be understood as the truest form of one, bereft of any sort of corruption in the highest ages. As would be expected, they were tasked with governing their kingdoms, maintaining the welfare of their subjects, and defending them should the time come. Yet even greater than this was their adherence to Khāryaḥ, and to have all their actions reflected in it. As such, many kings acted in some ways like priests, and indeed in some locales their function was just that. As the ages passed, it became custom for the kings and lords of Ārhmanhaḥ to attend daily sacrificial rites and oversee the ceremony as a sort of figurehead over the Servants, though in truth the priesthood held greater control than even the kings.

Which brings us to the last order: the Arhaḥmān. These consisted not only those of the priesthood, but even physicians, healers, and various scholars. At one point, it was considered that any learned individual seeking the ways of the Gods should at that point be considered an Arhaḥmān. Yet of all of them, it was the Servants that held the greatest control, and would in later ages abuse such power alongside the many evil kings to degrade the Verhaḥn system into one based on caste.

But even with all the misdeeds committed by that order, those of the lower position always held them in the highest regard, for it was they that held the foremost of tasks, chiefly to officiate the Gods. Without which, it was said that the world would perish, for the Gods sustain all that exists within the cosmos: Samiztrahaḥ to the many quasars and suns spread throughout the universe, Zayagñavhaḥ for the potency of the sacrificial flame that gives its power in both the living and non-living entities alike, Dusdrahaḥ for exciting the turbulent clouds and bringing rain to all the domains of human habitation, etc.

And so it almost became a taboo for one to even consider that a member of the priestly order, or even the Arhaḥmān in general, should ever be killed, regardless of any misdeed they may have committed (barring very heinous crimes). Indeed, after the many kings were felled by Levāñyhaḥ, the priesthood returned to its former state, only now with great shame and a resultant choice to cover themselves in public from head to toe, with not even a speck of skin showing through.

VII

Concerning the Stages of Life

There are considered to be three stages of life up to and including adulthood. Childhood, which is from birth to twelve years of age, bachelor or maidenhood, which is from twelve years of age till marriage (generally between eighteen and twenty-four years of age), and adulthood, which is from marriage until death. Within the adulthood stage, there are three more sub-stages: householder, retiree, and renunciant.

Often, individuals who have successfully become adults (which is most) are termed as the thrice-born, however, this same term is also often used to refer to great individuals of the order of Shrahaḥtrayan and the Arhaḥmān, and seldom, if ever, for the Varizhhō. It shares many similarities to the concept of the Dvija, twice-born, found in much Dharmic religious literature. There is one main contrast, however: whereas ‘Dvija’ is used to refer to a person having become not only an adult but also having taken spiritual initiation within the three higher strata of Varṇa, ‘thrice-born’ is used to signify a person who has done the same after having succeeded in their apprenticeship.

During the intermediate phase, of what could be constituted as the adolescent years, children are expected to choose a role that they wish to pursue later in life and spend those years honing their craft and learning all they can under the tutelage of a master. All the while, they will have to study beside a priest or priestess who will educate them in higher spiritual and religious matters (not as in-depth as one who was born into the Arhaḥmān would learn, but enough for them to have developed a clear spiritual, ethical, and moral framework by the time their studies conclude).

Once they have completed their apprenticeship, it was expected that they would spend either a short amount of years working or immediately find a partner. In either case, they would eventually be married, after which they would begin the stage of the householder, which constituted approximately twenty-four to thirty years with the upper threshold averaging at forty-eight years of age. When the end of this stage was reached, they would begin to slowly retire, leaving most of the work to their children or any apprentices that they may have, with this constituting a similar amount of years with the upper threshold averaging seventy-two years of age. And when this stage of life was over, then they would become a renunciant.

Now, in higher eras, it was expected that they would not only pass all material possessions to their children or relatives, but that also they would retire to the forest or some place of seclusion with a Gruvhō, completely dedicating themselves to liberation, at which point they would then return to pass on their knowledge. But with the descension of the eras, the latter requirement had slowly but surely passed away, and with less and less qualified Gruvhōs present in Ārhmanhaḥ, most elderly folk now spend their days as they would any other: in peace and relaxation.

VIII

Concerning the Royal Game

A popular board game among the peoples of Trdsyṃhaḥ. Each player holds seven pieces that are used to traverse a spiral board with a hundred and forty-four spaces. The board is flat for about three-quarters of the way; the remaining section is elevated sharply two feet off the ground. Each player rolls three twelve-sided dice and the player who has the largest sum of the three numbers moves one of their pieces forward. If the same player consecutively moves each round, the rate of movement is doubled, from one to two to four and so on. The first to move all seven of their pieces to the top wins. The only restriction set in place is that one should not roll the same number twice or thrice (dependent on the rule set). If they do so then they must move back all their pieces the same number of spaces that they each moved the previous round.

An entire science was developed to handle the outcome of dice rolls. This in turn led to great amounts of gambling that became rife throughout the Unified Kingdom. It even led to Zūryaṃār’s downfall when he gambled away his possessions and livelihood.

But this also led to the commencement of annual competitions held in Trdsyḷūr, in the central Rūrgha. Grand prizes (often in monetary compensation) were awarded to the victor, and most unfortunately, this had led many a one to gamble all they had for a chance of participating – even great ascetics, as it was said, were not immune to this. However, instead of using pieces, contestants would move themselves across the board. Often this would make matches much quicker in design than its board-based counterpart yet this served to rile the audiences with excitement all the more. And during times when the powers waxed greater, the accompanying spectacle only served to heighten it.