“It was dark. So completely dark that light could not survive here; so dark that it was an entity unto itself, almost sentient by the force of its presence.
“But then had always been so here. The immeasurable universe of darkness was broken only by the intricate Tapestry of life. An infinite number of symphonies made up the threads of time and space, each one meshing and weaving together to create a harmonious ebb and flow, creating the heartbeat of the cosmos.
“A physical form could not survive here, no, not in the Immaterium. It would shrivel and die, its every sense overwhelmed by the sheer force of the Tapestry. One glance at the true beauty of love would send a physical form into an obsession so deep they would forget to breathe; one taste of burning wrath would seize their minds with a terror so great they would lose all higher function and flee gratefully into the arms of death.
“Those consciousnesses that passed through here on their way to the Beyond always lingered for centuries. They marveled at the purity of the Tapestry, swam through the seas of emotions, wept at the timelessness of life as it marched steadily onward through the background of Oblivion.
“They inevitably moved on. A consciousness that stayed over long would begin to come apart; a fate that too many had met. They had brushed too close to the Tapestry, played too long amongst its threads and had thus been appropriated back into the symphony, their soul shredded and unfurled across the timelines. Where there was beauty, there was inevitably danger. Never was this more apparent than when the Tapestry decided to absorb the souls of those it had spit out once already.”
This prologue came as an after thought. The book had already been written, whittled down, added to, and edited within an inch of its life when I gave it to my friend, Jvari Williams. “This book is good,” he said the next day. “But what the hell is even happening?” It was then that I realized I had dropped my reader into the middle of a supernatural war between demons and humans and elves and asked them to simply accept that there was a realm called Erde whose people used magic and fought off the occasional demon.
Writing the prologue forced me to consider how I wanted this world to work. Where did their magic come from? How did they channel it? After much thought and contemplation, I created the Immaterium and the Tapestry of Life. If it sounds strange, that’s because it is. It isn’t something meant for human minds to grasp; it is meant to be something beautiful and terrible and tempting and horrifying in the manner of Dan Abnett and Aaron Dembski-Bowden from the Horus Hersey series, though I could never hold a candle to their descriptive prowess. It helped ground the book and it helped me create the Powers-That-Be in Erde.