Very soon the goddess yearned for her world to be more full of life, for it to roam across the earth and among the plants, and for it to swim in the rivers and seas, and even for it to glide through the skies with the breeze. She breathed forth first the smallest forms of life, floating in the ocean currents, and then played at larger forms, until at last the oceans teemed with creatures both great and meek, and then she took to the land. The creatures that she molded walked with her, and she smiled as they ate the grass and the fruits, and climbed the trees, and bade Neemie to never scorn them for supping so. Her favorite creature was the stag, and the mightiest one carried her on its back as she explored the lands.

As the life that she created took to the trees, she fashioned for some wings of feathers, others of delicate membranes, or thick, leathery skin, and bade them to fly as it pleased them through the skies. The goddess knew that she could not ask her elementals of water to look after the fish and other creatures of the rivers of the seas, just as she could not ask Neemie and Tezanth to care for the living things that walked the land, nor would Errarrak be responsible for her winged creations. Instead she chose to birth another elemental, who would care for all animals, and this was Fah’Iira, who loved all living things. They make a new animal, furred and affectionate, but intelligent as well, and called it the Jzyk’hé. Fah’Iira spoke to the goddess of allowing the animals a mechanism by which their generations could change to best suit the world in which they found themselves, and this blessing was granted to the whole of life.

As Lorata turned, wherever there were trees, or where the mountains were tall, the light of the day-star Ser was blocked. The animals for here shade, and laid in its coolness. The goddess saw how some of the life that she created preferred the darker places, while others preferred the light. She brought forth the elemental Shé, and bade him to look after the shadows, that they not grow too long, nor that they should disappear altogether, for the comfort of her living things was to be carefully guarded. Shé performed well his duties, and kept the shadows in peaceful balance with the light.

As life grew and learned and changed, it found joy in playfulness. Life laughed as it played in the shadows, and made games out of small tricks, and in all the mischief there was mirth and never malice. The goddess cautioned her creations to be kind even in their play, and set Shrré upon Lorata to ensure that the illusions were not carried out too far. Together the elemental of illusion and the elemental of shadow kept watch over the living things, and did their duties as the goddess requested of them.

At last the goddess yearned for one last thing. She wanted for her creations more than the means for survival, more than food and water and shade, more even than shelter and play. She wanted for them the keys to all intellect, that each one might unlock it in their own way. Therefore she breathed into life that mind that knows, wisdom and intelligence, the gift to create and communicate, and most especially to learn. They would be able to explain and predict, to grow in ways that even the goddess did not yet know. She placed among the other elementals Intehverr, and charged her with the guardianship of all of Lorata’s knowledge and thought.

With that, there were twelve, and the goddess was happy, and she let her planet grow and develop in its own way. She watched after it all the while, awaiting the day when she would go down among the living things and greet them, that they might know her. It would be many years , she knew, millennia perhaps, but the was a patient mother, and bided her time well.