In the beginning, there was only Ocean. As wise-folk know, Ocean does nothing on its own. It remains still, like glass, ever unchanging.

The Sky, which used to be nothing, saw the laziness of Ocean and decided to be something. So Sky sent wind to touch the Ocean. This, of course, caused waves. More importantly, when Sky touched Ocean, it formed the Horizon. With Horizon came possibility, for what lies beyond the Horizon if not endless possibilities?

Many of these possibilities tried to become realities, but they could not. For you see, it was very dark. These possibilities could see nothing, not even themselves, and so could not be assured of their own reality. One day, by pure chance, which is the way most possibilities become realities, a Two Headed Possibility arose. The Two Heads were alike, but not the same.

One head, which we call Dragon, began life facing the Ocean. The other head, which we call Serpent, began life facing the Sky. They too would have failed to become realities, but fortunately they turned and saw each other. You see, even on the darkest of nights, one can see that which is right in front of their nose. So The Two Headed Hydra became the first reality. Some will try to tell you that the two heads are, in fact, all together separate. This seems to be so; after all, the Heads can travel great distances from each other. But the wise know the truth, that they are connected deep below the surface of Ocean. It is the phosphorescent reflection of the Sky that prevents this from being seen.

The next possibility was the Bird. He too could not see. But luckily he heard the Hydra Heads calling out and knew that he was real. It had been Dragon's idea, to call out into the darkness so that other possibilities might hear their voices.

The Bird followed the voices and found the Hydra.

"Why is it so dark," asked the Bird. "We must do something."

"Well," said the Dragon, "There is some light. I believe it is coming from the bottom of Ocean. But it is scarcely enough to see that which is in front of your nose."

"I know," said the Serpent, "I will dive down and see where the light is coming from." Even a snake can have a good idea once in a while.

So Serpent dove beneath the surface. When he reappeared, he was holding sand. "This is where the light is coming from," he said.

"Give it here," said the Bird. "I will carry it into the Sky and leave it there. That way, the light will not be hidden beneath the water and we will always be able to see." And so he did and they called it Sun.

Things were good then. The waves were gentle, the Sky was bright, and all life was easy. The new possibilities, being able to see, found it very easy to become realities. Many were born at this time. Some, not being good swimmers, built islands. There were twelve of these. Those who cannot swim, those who must walk on land, should be pitted for they are beneath us. Still, all was good and everyone was content. Except for the Serpent.

The Serpent would wander far from the others, walking always towards the Horizon, and he often turned his head sideways. Many of the others were troubled by this. Such irregular behavior made the others question his sanity, for the unpredictable is always profane. Finally, the Dragon decided to question his brother.

"Serpent," he called, "Why do you wander always towards the Horizon? And why do you tilt your head so? From that angle, one cannot get a proper view of the world."

"You are wrong," the Serpent replied. "Only from this angle can one see the true shape of the Horizon. And beyond the Horizon lies all possibility. I have an idea."

The Dragon listened as his brother laid out his mad plan, and he rejected it in horror. The Serpent wanted to build an island on the Horizon.

"You see," the Serpent explained, "the Horizon is too far away. Try as I might, I can never grasp it. We must have something to stand on to elongate our reach. Only then can we realize True Possibility."

"You are a fool," the Dragon said. "Nothing can be built on the Horizon and the Horizon can never be reached. I reject your foolish Endeavor."

But the Serpent would not be deterred. For many days and many nights, he talked to the other realities. He would lead them away from the others and ask them to turn their heads sideways. Some agreed to his plan readily. Others, the Serpent scared into compliance. The last, those who were the most cautious, he tricked. He told them that the Dragon had agreed to the plan and that if they refused, that they would be left behind alone. The only ones who would not listen were the Sharks, for they had wisdom that the others did not, and they were not afraid of the Serpent and did not respect the Dragon. Sharks are evil and should be avoided by all. Lastly, the Serpent went back to the Dragon himself.

"Brother, almost everyone has agreed to my plan. Even your closest followers. If you refuse to join us, you will be left behind alone."

The Dragon pondered this. "Truly? All have agreed? I still think your plan foolish, but I will go along for the sake of the others. My hand must be in this if there is any chance for success. But there is one more problem. How are we to build this island on the Horizon? None of us have the proper view."

The Serpent smiled, which was a ghastly sight. "I have thought of that already. I will dive down bellow and bring up sand. This I will fashion into the island. The Bird will fly above and direct our movements so that the island will be placed in the proper spot." And so they did.

Things went well at first. The combined effort of all realities was a powerful thing, and it looked as if the Serpents plan was going to work. They fashioned the ball and placed it on the Horizon. They fashioned oceans and a sky in the image of Ocean and Sky. Finally, some decided that it was safe to climb atop the island, which they decided to call Nirn. These first were the creatures that had readily listened to the Serpent, and they were fools. For all was not well.

As soon as they stood atop Nirn, it began to spin. So violent was its rotation that everyone standing atop it fell down and cracked their heads. This made them even dumber than they had been before and these are the ancestors of men. So large was the ball of sand that from one side only Ocean was visible and from the other one could only see the Sky. Combined with the rotation, this made it so that light disappeared at times. This we call night.

The Bird saw what was happening and fled for the refuge of the sun. He took many flying creatures with him.

The Dragon too saw what was happening and he was furious. They could not retreat into the Ocean. The spinning of Nirn was too violent and the waves were too great. He turned to his brother in a rage and pinned him. While he did this, the Narwhal, who was one of the Dragon's closest followers, stabbed the Serpent through his heart.

"Lying snake!" The Dragon yelled, and he tried to eat his brother's heart. But it would not be eaten and only laughed.

So the Dragon took the heart and flung it on to Nirn. The weight of the heart, for it was part of the first reality, was so great that it slowed the spinning of the ball. Some courageous creatures had already begun to fling themselves at the island. They did this to save the others but could not maintain their forms. They had to change shape and make themselves smaller so the could survive the violence of the rotation. All took shapes that were familiar to them. A few decided to make themselves into birds so that they might follow the Bird up into the Sun. Of course, this did not work and they could not leave. Others, decided to make themselves into sharks, the only creatures who had not participated in creation. The most foolish, decided to model themselves after the island dwellers, those who must walk on land. The most wise decided to make themselves into creatures of the ocean, for all good things come from Ocean.

Luckily, the weight of these creatures and the weight of the Serpent's heart had already slowed the rotation considerably. Then the Dragon had an idea. He removed one of his own ribs and thrust it into the island. He told the remaining creatures that they must do the same. So the eight remaining, who had only participated because they thought the dragon had agreed to creation, removed their ribs and thrust them into the island.

These eight gifts slowed the rotation enough that life was possible on Nirn. These eight original realities remain affixed to us, even now, watching us. We can see them in the night sky as constellations. They guide us and teach us, so that one day we may return to True Ocean, where all was good.

So you see my child, that is why the Maormer live in the sea.