In the Beginning, There Was Only Sky and Water

The Cosmic Egg had cracked open, but this brand new universe was very simple. World only consisted of opposites.

Light and dark.

Up and down.

Sky and Water.

In this realm, the gods began to form from the raw essences of life. It first there were only two gods: Perun and Veles.

Perun, God of the Sky

Perun is a pivotal diety in Slavic mythology, often associated with thunder, lightning, storms, rain, law, war, fertility, and oak trees.

Regarded as the chief god by many Slavic tribes, Perun’s imagery frequently includes weapons like axes or hammers. He is sometimes pictured riding a chariot, or taking the form of an eagle. He embodies the might of the heavens and is revered as a powerful protector and warrior. But he is also seen as fiery, quick-tempered, and rigid.

But when this story begins and the universe was new, the mighty god Perun did not have much to rule over. In the beginning, he found himself floating on a boat in a vast ocean, staring up at the empty sky. Sometimes, to alleviate his boredom, he would take the form of an eagle and soar over the waters.

But everywhere he flew, there was only sky and water, and nowhere to land except for his scanty little boat.

Veles, God of the Waters

Veles is the Slavic god of the underworld. Although the Christians re-cast him into the role of the devil, his Slavic origins were more complex. He is the god of earth, water, forests, the underworld, music, magic, trickery, cattle, livestock, and wealth. And, yes, he is also the god of the afterlife.

Known for his shapeshifting abilities, Veles can transform into various forms, including a mighty dragon or serpent, animals (particularly cattle or sheep), and even as trees, showcasing his mastery over magic and his role as a protector of livestock. His favorite tree was the willow.

Veles was also known as being a bit of a trickster, similar to Hermes and Loki. In Slavic mythology, he often used his his cunning to prod Perun and evade his wrath.

When the world was new, Veles’s domain was everything below the water. He watched over the chaos and wildness of all the creatures of the sea. The fish and crustaceans and sea serpents, and all the wild and magical monsters that later humans would draw in unexplored corners of the map. 

And yet, when Veles looked upward toward the surface of the water, into Perun’s domain where he saw a vast expanse of nothingness, he saw potential for so much more.

The Genesis of Land

Veles swam up to the surface and approached Perun, floating in his boat.

“The world yearn for complexity,” Veles said. He proposed the creation of land, as an in-between space above the waters and beneath the sky, upon which life could grow. “But I can’t create this land myself. I will need you help.”

Perun, too, longed for more, and so he agreed to work with Veles in creating this new plane.

Veles dove down into the waters, down to the deepest, darkest depths of the sea. When he reached the bottom, he scooped a handful of sand into his mouth, and swam back up to the surface.

Up at the surface, he spit the sand into Perun’s hand, and Perun scattered the sand across the surface of the sea.

Where the sand hit the water, land formed.

How the Land Grew

The first patch of land was very small. Barely big enough for the two gods to stand on, side by side.

They began to argue over who would be in control of this land. Soon, the gods were pushing and shoving each other, fighting for more room. Veles pushed Perun. Perun shoved Veles back.

Veles tried to toss Perun down into the water, but everywhere Perun stepped, the land extended beneath him. He was the god of the over-world and could not be drowned. Perun changed into a bird and tried to carry Veles up into the sky so that he could drop him. But Veles was the god of the underworld and could not be lifted without his consent. Everywhere he stepped, the land extended beneath him, because he, too, had had a hand in its creation.

After age of fighting, the two gods paused for breath. When they looked around, they saw that the land had extended around them as far as the eye could see. They realized that there was now plenty of land for the both of them to share.

And in the place where the first land had been created, there grew an immense oak tree that extended up to the heavens and down into the soil. This was the tree of life, the world tree.

The two gods agreed to make a temporary peace. 

Perun created an eagle, which flew him up to the very top of the world tree, a place he called Wiraj, which was a place of birds and stars.

Veles created a dragon-serpent called Zmey, and the two of them burrowed down to the upside-down world among the roots of the world tree, where Veles made himself a throne of gold, and Zmey curled among the tree roots in a nest of wool.

Each god had retreated to their own kingdoms, one above and one below.

Life Hatched From a Firebird’s Egg

Perun, up in the sky, looked dow at the barren landscape and felt profound sadness at its emptiness. From his height, Perun could see the vast complexities of life in the oceans and in the soil—in Veles’s domain—and felt envy. He would not be outdone by Veles. He wished for the same richness of life to exist on the surface of the earth.

Up in the sky, other gods were beginning to form themselves from chaos of existence.

There was Svarog, god of fire.

And Rod, god of newborn souls, of family, kinship, and birth.

With their help, Perun, conjured a golden bird that glowed so brightly it looked as if it had been made from fire. Indeed, it was made of fire. This magical bird has often been imagined as the first firebird, the phoenix, a creature with the ability to create itself anew from the ashes of its former self.

Perun sent the bird down to the barren landscape. The rooster laid an egg, which cracked on the dry landscape. The egg whites oozed over the surface of the shell, and wherever it touched the land, a river sprang up from the soil, bringing fresh water all across the land. From the golden yellow yolk of the egg, all other forms of life emerged. Vast, golden fields of wheat and grass spread across the land. Animals emerged to eat the wheat. Humans emerged to tend the wheat and the animals.

And from the yoke, a new god emerged. The goddess Mokosh, diety of the earth and the fields, of fertility, fecundity, spinning, and everything having to do with women and childbirth.

She was beautiful and and so enchanting that both Perun and Veles fell in love.

But that’s another story for another day.

To explore more tales from the Slavic pantheon please consider signing up to for my Reader’s Club newsletter to receive monthly writing updates, book reviews, and notifications about more blog posts like this one.