In the beginning there was only the Night. The Night was all that was, for there was nothing else. The lone Night gave birth to the Cosmic Egg and it was no longer alone. The Cosmic Egg was quiet and cold, though, so the Night started a fire to warm the Egg. The Night never before started the fire and got burned and scorched and grew all black from the ash and smoke, and the pain drove the Night to hide behind the Cosmic Egg creating division between the Night and the Day. The Day warmed the Cosmic Egg from one side while the Night cooled it from the other, so the Night started turning the Egg around so it would be warmed from both sides, and the Cosmic Egg was turning and warming until its shell cracked and splintered and fell apart. Inside the Cosmic Egg, there was the slumbering World. The World awoke when the shell fell apart and it cast the shards of the shell away, and the shards flew and spread across the Night and the Day, except for the three eldest and largest shards that circled the World just behind its grasp. And all those shards became the Firstborn—the gods of the skies.
The World then warmed itself by the fire and cooled itself by the Night and after some time spawned multitude of progeny, the Secondborn. The Secondborn were small and insignificant to the World, though, and it did not care about them, and as it wandered and moved, and stretched, and shaken, and scratched itself, it crushed and killed many of the Secondborn, and gave no thought to their demise. The Secondborn were afraid and pleaded to the World to be careful and to spare them, but they were small and insignificant so the World heard them not. The Secondborn despaired and grew desperate, and when the World went to nap, they met and conspired, and decided to kill the World while it slept, so it would not wander anymore, nor move, nor stretch, nor shake, nor scratch itself, killing no more Secondborn. As they decided so they done, each Secondborn stabbing the World, and while they were small and insignificant, and could not pierce deep into the World, they were so many that the sheer number of wounds caused the World to bleed profoundly and die.
The Secondborn never killed the World before so they were unprepared for the amount of blood springing from its wounds and were cast aside or flooded with the World's blood. Many were crushed by the blood, many held their breath until they suffocated. Those who were surprised and did not held their breath, and those who held their breath but decided to let go before they suffocate swallowed the World's blood and were changed. As the blood flew from the many wounds and flooded the surface of the World, only the World's head and feet, and elbows, and knees, and fingers, and toes, and other members stuck above the blood. The Secondborn that survived found themselves beneath the waves of the blood, and they changed to live underneath the blood, and they sucked the power of the World from the blood until it grew transparent, and they grew to be the gods of the sea, mating and fighting, and giving birth to a multitude of creatures living in the depths.
When the Secondborn stabbed and killed the World, when the blood gushed from the wounds, the unspent seed of the World gushed too, spilling across the surface of the World. Where the drops of World's seed dropped, either on the exposed members of the World, or in the depths of the flowing blood, the volcanoes rose above the waves, and gave birth to the Thirdborn—the gods of fire and the islands scattered across the sea. And they wielded the great power over their islands and their roots beneath the waves, but their power did not extended into the waves of the sea, nor across them. As the Thirdborn were scattered far and wide, only a few were close enough to each other and unbarred by sea to mate, fight, and give birth to living things of their own. The remaining Thirdborn lived apart and alone until the children of the Secondborn crawled on their islands from the sea, and the children of other Thirdborn sailed over the seas to them...