Friday's Whims of the Time Traveler 89.0: January 8th, 2008
NOTE: This is going to be a slightly different presentation of "Whims of the Time Traveler" than usual. The initial draft was written back in the fall of 2006, as a high school project for an English class literally called "Myth and Fantasy." The assignment was to create a completely original creation story, for the universe, Earth, and humanity. Many people wrote small origin myths. I, however, took it to the extreme. The last modified version of this was January 8th, 2008.
This is Part One.
Earthe Maeliz
by Belinda Roddie
Part One: The Formation
Silence, and the whole void was waiting. Emptiness, of all kings, reigned vastly amidst the landscape, hollow, unwelcoming, and cold. No twinkling of lights or luminous mist shrouded this vacuum, and nothing lived, breathed, or moved. Then came the aurora.
As stars began to emerge from the nothingness that reigned the galaxies, two figures were found responsible for it, forging celestial beings that hung like strange gemstones in the brightening skies. They held hands as they worked, whispering wise and loving words in a melodious tongue that was never heard by anyone but the gods. They were man and woman, fire and light, creating the galaxies, as their happiness grew stronger with each new creation.
The man was Maeliz, and truly he was a deity of inferno. He was of complexion so dark he could morph into the blackness around him were it not for his eyes, two blazing torches set into his head. He also had hair and beard of vivacious flame, and when tossed they coiled and hissed, crackling in the silent realm. For himself, he built a home of coals, molten lava, and ashes, an enormous orb that he proudly called Sun, or in his language “Fury.” There he drove his chariot, cracking his burning whip upon the red dragon, Kashtar, who from his nostrils snorted fire and smoke that could be seen from a very long distance.
The woman, who loved Maeliz dearly, was called Itlil, and she shone with a light that was warm but so brilliant all mortal eyes would be cast to the ground. She was much more patient than Maeliz, and gentler, for a god of fire is always bound to a hot temper; and she tendered dearly to the creations she molded into the space that enclosed around the two like a black velvet blanket. She did not care to stay with Maeliz in his chariot. Nay, she preferred a more serene abode, the silver Moon, which translated from her tongue to “Ease.” There she would mend her gown of all colors of light, for it frayed often when she got close to Maeliz. She loved him dearly, though, and sang many odes to their romance. One of them is documented as such, for it has become a lullaby passed down through the ages:
Our stars are gold and white and blue and touched with reddish wonder
And planets lined in lovely rows that glow amid the shadows deep
I hold your hand and kiss your head, o’ love with voice of thunder
And eyes of gentle hearth and heat that give me soft and gentle sleep
Beautiful songs she sang, and at times Maeliz would stop his chariot to listen. Though he had no gift of music upon his lips, he smiled, and even when the music ended he stayed and listened to his wife’s quiet breathing while she slept.
Such gentle sleep did not last long. Itlil was with child, and Maeliz had grown bored and restless. He did not desire to simply ride around his Sun every day. He wished to roam far beyond his golden shelter and create more stars and planets for his wife to enjoy. Then their love would be much richer in value and meaning. He cracked his whip so sharply that Kashtar was roused into a terrible temper and bellowed while torrents of flame and smoke charred the nearby planets.
Thus Maeliz rode, careless and unsettled, until the skies were ripped asunder with foul inferno. Fire choked the stars and left them scorched and dead upon the horizon. Rings of crimson encircled the Moon at a horribly close range. Maeliz paid no mind to it, and as if some unfriendly force had dimmed the lights in his eyes, he lost all worry or care of Itlil, the mother of his child. Instead, he only wished to ride the cosmos until everything lay in black and dismal ruin. Then he could make it better than before.
When Itlil awoke from uncomfortable dreams, she noticed that the domain that Maeliz and she had labored to shape was a hell of fire and flame that writhed and roared and swelled in vigorous wrath, and she was afraid.
“Maeliz! My love with eyes of hearth, what have you done?” she cried. “Either your power has betrayed you, or you have lost yourself in your desire for distraction and sport! I see you upon your chariot, and I see now the fire has gone out in your eyes and now rages outside my home. I pray you, Maeliz my love, return now and end this conflagration that is destroying all we have created! Your child depends on it, Maeliz!”
So Itlil spoke, and though Maeliz heard the words, he made no sense of them, for he had grown foolish and reckless in his flight. He only stared vacantly at Itlil before cracking his whip once more, and Kashtar screamed and lunged upon other stars that immediately lit up in hideous fire and became ash. Itlil watched and wept as the wheels of Maeliz’s chariot seared the world that the two had worked hard and lovingly on.
Then Itlil’s heart grew cold for Maeliz and with a new vengeance she carved a shaft from the surface of her Moon, and as its tip she placed an untouched white dwarf, a star that was near the end of its life but still holding the fury of four and twenty swords. Then from the stardust left from the raging fire she built an extraordinary chariot to match Maeliz’s vehicle of fire, and she called upon Hemond, the silver falcon, to drive it. Then she set off in pursuit of her former love.
Itltil found Maeliz roosting on a planet that was once bare stone but was now set alight by his fiery body, and he stared upon the void around him with vacant eyes. Hemond shrieked and Kashtar roared, and Maeliz had hardly turned his head when Itlil’s spear pierced his best and pinned him fast to the orb he was resting on.
Maeliz howled in agony and he writhed and tossed like a flopping fish, but the sharp point of the star spear held firm. Then he stopped jerking and lay motionless, and slowly, before Itlil’s eyes, the flames upon his body wisped away. His great mane of hair and fire grew lifeless, and his powerful limbs lost their shape as he slowly changed into thick, firm clay that encased the world of rock. Then the flames that had ravaged the galaxies vanished as well, and all of the sky that surrounded where Maeliz once lay grew a beautiful pale blue, and the sun and moon beamed gently upon the planet.
The goddess of light watched as Hemond perched upon the shaft of Itlil’s spear, which still protruded from the clay. At once the shaft split and branched out, and beautiful green foliage burst from the stone handle, which now softened and splintered like wood. Thus the first tree grew upon the new world created by Maeliz’s flesh and Itlil’s spirit.
Itlil witnessed this chain of events and looked upon the cerulean horizon with brimming eyes. “Maeliz, my heart grew cold for you when you made chaos upon our universe. But now my heart is confused, muddled with pity and joy. As long as the blue skies shine upon your brow, I will never forget our love. Our children will live upon your flesh and make it beautiful, and I will call this world Earthe Maeliz, the island of my husband.”
Then Itlil seized Kashtar, who had attempted to flee, and squeezed his neck and torso with her hands until he could no longer breathe, and large, abundant tears cascaded upon the clay as rain. Within moments, Earthe Maeliz was surrounded by vast oceans, and the goddess tossed the now limp Kashtar into the new waters. Kashtar swam away as a poisonous eel, a symbol of bitterness and fallen glory.
As the day that her child was due drew nearer, Itlil crafted balance upon this new planet, creating day and night and formatting a calendar for the barren landscape. But she knew it was not her duty to instill life upon Earthe Maeliz, and within the month she bathed in the waters of the sea and gave birth to two sons. Then she blessed them, and she named them Aberfory and Tumen.
The two grew quickly under the nourishment of their mother’s light and warmth, and they became tall and sturdy like the very tree that had grown from Itlil’s spear, with golden hair and eyes and ruddy faces. They were gods of life and energy, powerful and obedient to Itlil. Aberfory and Tumen quickly learned of the obligation their mother had laid out for them, and within a span of fifty years they created a world of unending beauty and spirit. Aberfory rose up mounds of rock and clay to form mountains, and Tumen allowed rivers of sweet water to run into lakes and carved the earth into lush green valleys. Aberfory created hillsides and ridges crowned with snow and mighty trees in the frigid winter, and Tumen produced forests, meadows of wheat, shrubs and bushes laden with fruit in the blistering summer. Aberfory breathed life into sturdy beasts such as the bull, the lion, and the elephant, and Tumen tended to the insects, rodents, and other small animals.
Both brothers were skilled in magic or hitold, which meant “birthing of energy”, and both were very competitive with one another. They vied for the prettiest flower or the sturdiest landscape. They even attempted to make a bird as powerful and extraordinary as the falcon Hemond, resulting in the more inferior birth of the eagle and the hawk. But Aberfory and Tumen loved each other dearly; they would constantly run together across Earthe Maeliz, picking fruits to eat and laughing as they watched the animals frolic, and they would conceive and tell many stories. For several nights among those years they spent time with their mother, listening to tales of their father when Itlil and he held hands as they created the galaxies. And Itlil blessed them for the work they had done on the world they reigned over.
On the eve of the fifty-first year, Aberfory and Tumen decided that perhaps they could create something together rather than compete. The result was the red rose, its exquisite color blessed by Tumen’s eyes and its menacing thorns sharpened by Aberfory’s fingers. It had only blossomed for a moment when a dazzling young maiden emerged from the petals. Her hair was black as the winter’s night, lips as red as a ripened fruit. She was Firrah, later known as the goddess of beauty and fertility, and as she extended her hand in greeting the two gods fell deeply and blissfully in love with her.
Aberfory walked with Firrah across the plains of Earthe Maeliz, sitting with her on the sandy shores and giving her gemstones of sapphire and ruby as he kissed her lips and hair. Tumen danced with her in the moonlight, weaving flowers in her hair and caressing her cheeks and nose. Both brothers tended to her dearly, and such was her love for both of them that she did not realize the sort of dilemma she had gotten all three of them into until both Tumen and Aberfory asked to be betrothed to her.
As tension mounted between the two brothers, Firrah fled to the Moon to speak with Itlil. “Oh, queen of light, hear my plea!” she said. “I have led both your sons into a mad desire for my hand, and I fear that it will tear them apart. I fear also for the condition of Earthe Maeliz if your sons claw and rip at each other for my flesh. Your interference is vital to this world’s well-being and your sons’ contentment, for they cannot refuse the words of a mother such as you!”
So anxious and clamoring with Firrah’s state that Itlil took pity on her, and she called Aberfory and Tumen to discuss the matter. Both were eager to speak of why they were most fit to be Firrah’s husband, but Itlil silenced them with a wave of her hand.
“One thing is clear to all of us: that one of you shall walk away distorted with grief if the other is blindly given Firrah,” she said gently. “Therefore, you both must prove yourselves to me as not just powerful gods, but logical and well meaning ones. Thus, my test commences as so.
“This land is prospering, and creatures upon it are thriving. But there is still the lack of a living creature wise enough to labor for their gods and tend to the animals. Do this chore carefully and properly, Aberfory and Tumen, that I lay out for you. I desire a likeness of the gods to carry out any wishes we may so ask. This likeness we shall call a human, or ‘aspect of deity’, to be created and fit to withstand many elements for years to come.
“Come, sons! For a year your creations shall labor, and the group that survives the longest will belong to the son that marries the beautiful Firrah.” Itlil fell silent for a moment and perused her sons’ faces with eyes sparkling with conviction. “Do you accept?”
“Oh, yes!” cried Tumen eagerly. “This is most fair and welcome for the prosperity of our sanctimony and Earthe Maeliz!”
“Indeed,” replied Aberfory, a determined glint in his eye, and he added to himself, “I am given a most excellent advantage, for Tumen is keen at making silly, pretty things. But I build creations with vigor and strength that can stand against any storm. Tumen’s humans will surely tumble from a simple draft of wind.”
For days, the brothers were hard at work. Aberfory used clay, rock, and wood and created tough, sturdy men, and when he breathed life into them they were broad and brown in complexion. And they were indeed strong, stronger than any other beast on Earthe Maeliz. They could rip up trees and crush stones with the palms of their hands, and they were keen in sight, hearing, and smell. However, though Aberfory had made mighty hunters and fighters, he had forgotten to instill wisdom in them, and they became aggressive and incredibly dull and stupid. They could not even remember a name said to them, much less the name of a god.
Tumen, on the other hand, had collected leaves and sap from the trees of the forests, and, adding mud and sand, crafted men and women of smaller stature and of many different colors. When he breathed life into them, they were much weaker than other beasts and more prone to sickness and injury. However, unlike Aberfory’s humans, they were wise and after some toil learned to gather and store food for long periods of time. They also created many beautiful works of art and music, and every day they made sacrifices to the memory of Maeliz and to the goddess Itlil, who smiled back upon them and blessed them. Aberfory’s men, most adversely, paid no heed to Itlil and starved due to their lack of basic survival skills; those who lived killed one other for rations. Aberfory witnessed the famine and slaughter with shock and dismay, and he buried his face in his hands, unable to look upon his mother’s face for many days.
A year passed and Itlil called for Aberfory and Tumen again. This time Firrah was with her, looking more radiant and beautiful than ever before in a rainbow gown much like Itlil’s. At the sight of Firrah, Aberfory tore his eyes away, for he knew it was Tumen who would earn her hand. This was confirmed as Itlil praised Tumen for his work and let Firrah embrace him.
“Tumen, I bless you for your accomplishment in creating a glorious likeness to worship us,” Itlil said. “And Aberfory, I bless you as well, for though you failed in bringing chief wisdom into your strong men, your attempt was in good faith. You shall be praised for your hard work.” Aberfory said nothing in return.
Itlil then said, “Firrah is your bride, Tumen; rejoice and be glad of it! For I have another gift for you because of your achievement.”
“I am most grateful,” Tumen said, “but Firrah is the best gift you could ever give me. My people will build temples in your name, and they will bless you as the Mother God, wife of our father Maeliz. Aberfory will help us, and we will all live and laugh together as a happy family.”
“I am pleased by how humble and gracious you are, my son,” answered Itlil, “but it only strengthens my wish to offer this gift to you. Temples in my name are beautiful to hear of, but I have grown old and weary, and I wish to return to my home the Moon. My desire is to make you supreme god of Earthe Maeliz, for a people’s creator should be held in high honor. They shall worship you and your wife, and for that you will let them live long, happy lives. Come, Tumen, Supreme God of Earthe Maeliz, and let me kiss your forehead so that my blessing in upon you!”
Tumen’s face beamed with a hundred warm lights as he approached his mother, Firrah trailing behind him. Never had he dreamed of such a designation in all the world, and he rejoiced and was glad. But before Itlil could rest her lips on her son’s forehead a horrid scream rose from the throat of Aberfory. He had tried to keep silent in his humiliation and shame, but now it had become too much to bear as his face grew sickly pale and his eyes pulsed with a deadly fury. He pointed a shaking finger at Tumen, then at Firrah, and finally at Itlil.
“You have destroyed me!” he shrieked, his words mangled and contorted. “My spirit was already shattered when I could no longer grasp Firrah’s hand or kiss her lips, but this has destroyed everything I am made of and everything I have looked forward to! You say you bless me for my ‘attempt’—my failure to please you with the perfect likeness—and in my sight you praise my brother and give him supreme rule over what we both worked to create!
“Your blessing means nothing!” he howled. “You do not bless me! You merely warm me with false words, to make me feel welcome in your bosom, when my brother is placed high on a pedestal with the woman I love! And then I am tossed aside as the brother in the shadow. You have no need of me anymore. I would be of more use if I were clay like our wretched father! And here is my reply to you, Itlil, Mother Goddess: You are no mother to me, and Tumen is no brother to me! I could kill you both! And I will kill you both with my bare hands!”
Aberfory lunged at Tumen, clutching his throat with his hands in a mad frenzy, as Firrah screamed and shrank away from the crazed god. Tumen struggled furiously, but Aberfory was strong and did not loosen his grip. But Itlil rose slowly and raised her left hand, and in a loud voice cried, “Ubiliphet!” which, in the gods’ tongue, means “infliction”. With that word, a thunderclap resounded in the skies, and Aberfory was struck down by a bolt of fire, his hands ripped from Tumen’s throat. Then he lay still upon the ground.
Firrah rushed to Tumen’s aid as Itlil approached Aberfory. Aberfory stirred, coughing and gasping for breath, and slowly he crawled into a crouching position. At his brother’s appearance, Tumen shrank away in shock and fear, for Aberfory’s golden hair was now a sooty black, thick and wirey where the lightning had touched it, and his ruddy complexion had turned gaunt and pale. His now hollow eyes gazed emotionlessly up at his mother, who, with no word to her forsaken son, waved her right hand and cast Aberfory deep into the core of Earthe Maeliz.
When he came to, he was alone in a dark, cold domain, a vast and dreary landscape covered in a thick gray mist. Where Maeliz’s heart used to beat stone towers now rose to frightening heights and gray willows were stooped in age and deformity. Aberfory wandered mindlessly in this province for several weeks, and it was only then that he realized the madness that had driven him so far as to renounce his family, and the punishment he would have to face for it. With that sudden insight festering in his head, he clung to a stone and wept until all emotion but bitterness remained in his heart. Thus Aberfory built his kingdom in this dismal underworld, and it would be forever known to the gods and humans as the Black Abyss.
Next week - Part Two.
This is Part One.
Earthe Maeliz
by Belinda Roddie
Part One: The Formation
Silence, and the whole void was waiting. Emptiness, of all kings, reigned vastly amidst the landscape, hollow, unwelcoming, and cold. No twinkling of lights or luminous mist shrouded this vacuum, and nothing lived, breathed, or moved. Then came the aurora.
As stars began to emerge from the nothingness that reigned the galaxies, two figures were found responsible for it, forging celestial beings that hung like strange gemstones in the brightening skies. They held hands as they worked, whispering wise and loving words in a melodious tongue that was never heard by anyone but the gods. They were man and woman, fire and light, creating the galaxies, as their happiness grew stronger with each new creation.
The man was Maeliz, and truly he was a deity of inferno. He was of complexion so dark he could morph into the blackness around him were it not for his eyes, two blazing torches set into his head. He also had hair and beard of vivacious flame, and when tossed they coiled and hissed, crackling in the silent realm. For himself, he built a home of coals, molten lava, and ashes, an enormous orb that he proudly called Sun, or in his language “Fury.” There he drove his chariot, cracking his burning whip upon the red dragon, Kashtar, who from his nostrils snorted fire and smoke that could be seen from a very long distance.
The woman, who loved Maeliz dearly, was called Itlil, and she shone with a light that was warm but so brilliant all mortal eyes would be cast to the ground. She was much more patient than Maeliz, and gentler, for a god of fire is always bound to a hot temper; and she tendered dearly to the creations she molded into the space that enclosed around the two like a black velvet blanket. She did not care to stay with Maeliz in his chariot. Nay, she preferred a more serene abode, the silver Moon, which translated from her tongue to “Ease.” There she would mend her gown of all colors of light, for it frayed often when she got close to Maeliz. She loved him dearly, though, and sang many odes to their romance. One of them is documented as such, for it has become a lullaby passed down through the ages:
Our stars are gold and white and blue and touched with reddish wonder
And planets lined in lovely rows that glow amid the shadows deep
I hold your hand and kiss your head, o’ love with voice of thunder
And eyes of gentle hearth and heat that give me soft and gentle sleep
Beautiful songs she sang, and at times Maeliz would stop his chariot to listen. Though he had no gift of music upon his lips, he smiled, and even when the music ended he stayed and listened to his wife’s quiet breathing while she slept.
Such gentle sleep did not last long. Itlil was with child, and Maeliz had grown bored and restless. He did not desire to simply ride around his Sun every day. He wished to roam far beyond his golden shelter and create more stars and planets for his wife to enjoy. Then their love would be much richer in value and meaning. He cracked his whip so sharply that Kashtar was roused into a terrible temper and bellowed while torrents of flame and smoke charred the nearby planets.
Thus Maeliz rode, careless and unsettled, until the skies were ripped asunder with foul inferno. Fire choked the stars and left them scorched and dead upon the horizon. Rings of crimson encircled the Moon at a horribly close range. Maeliz paid no mind to it, and as if some unfriendly force had dimmed the lights in his eyes, he lost all worry or care of Itlil, the mother of his child. Instead, he only wished to ride the cosmos until everything lay in black and dismal ruin. Then he could make it better than before.
When Itlil awoke from uncomfortable dreams, she noticed that the domain that Maeliz and she had labored to shape was a hell of fire and flame that writhed and roared and swelled in vigorous wrath, and she was afraid.
“Maeliz! My love with eyes of hearth, what have you done?” she cried. “Either your power has betrayed you, or you have lost yourself in your desire for distraction and sport! I see you upon your chariot, and I see now the fire has gone out in your eyes and now rages outside my home. I pray you, Maeliz my love, return now and end this conflagration that is destroying all we have created! Your child depends on it, Maeliz!”
So Itlil spoke, and though Maeliz heard the words, he made no sense of them, for he had grown foolish and reckless in his flight. He only stared vacantly at Itlil before cracking his whip once more, and Kashtar screamed and lunged upon other stars that immediately lit up in hideous fire and became ash. Itlil watched and wept as the wheels of Maeliz’s chariot seared the world that the two had worked hard and lovingly on.
Then Itlil’s heart grew cold for Maeliz and with a new vengeance she carved a shaft from the surface of her Moon, and as its tip she placed an untouched white dwarf, a star that was near the end of its life but still holding the fury of four and twenty swords. Then from the stardust left from the raging fire she built an extraordinary chariot to match Maeliz’s vehicle of fire, and she called upon Hemond, the silver falcon, to drive it. Then she set off in pursuit of her former love.
Itltil found Maeliz roosting on a planet that was once bare stone but was now set alight by his fiery body, and he stared upon the void around him with vacant eyes. Hemond shrieked and Kashtar roared, and Maeliz had hardly turned his head when Itlil’s spear pierced his best and pinned him fast to the orb he was resting on.
Maeliz howled in agony and he writhed and tossed like a flopping fish, but the sharp point of the star spear held firm. Then he stopped jerking and lay motionless, and slowly, before Itlil’s eyes, the flames upon his body wisped away. His great mane of hair and fire grew lifeless, and his powerful limbs lost their shape as he slowly changed into thick, firm clay that encased the world of rock. Then the flames that had ravaged the galaxies vanished as well, and all of the sky that surrounded where Maeliz once lay grew a beautiful pale blue, and the sun and moon beamed gently upon the planet.
The goddess of light watched as Hemond perched upon the shaft of Itlil’s spear, which still protruded from the clay. At once the shaft split and branched out, and beautiful green foliage burst from the stone handle, which now softened and splintered like wood. Thus the first tree grew upon the new world created by Maeliz’s flesh and Itlil’s spirit.
Itlil witnessed this chain of events and looked upon the cerulean horizon with brimming eyes. “Maeliz, my heart grew cold for you when you made chaos upon our universe. But now my heart is confused, muddled with pity and joy. As long as the blue skies shine upon your brow, I will never forget our love. Our children will live upon your flesh and make it beautiful, and I will call this world Earthe Maeliz, the island of my husband.”
Then Itlil seized Kashtar, who had attempted to flee, and squeezed his neck and torso with her hands until he could no longer breathe, and large, abundant tears cascaded upon the clay as rain. Within moments, Earthe Maeliz was surrounded by vast oceans, and the goddess tossed the now limp Kashtar into the new waters. Kashtar swam away as a poisonous eel, a symbol of bitterness and fallen glory.
As the day that her child was due drew nearer, Itlil crafted balance upon this new planet, creating day and night and formatting a calendar for the barren landscape. But she knew it was not her duty to instill life upon Earthe Maeliz, and within the month she bathed in the waters of the sea and gave birth to two sons. Then she blessed them, and she named them Aberfory and Tumen.
The two grew quickly under the nourishment of their mother’s light and warmth, and they became tall and sturdy like the very tree that had grown from Itlil’s spear, with golden hair and eyes and ruddy faces. They were gods of life and energy, powerful and obedient to Itlil. Aberfory and Tumen quickly learned of the obligation their mother had laid out for them, and within a span of fifty years they created a world of unending beauty and spirit. Aberfory rose up mounds of rock and clay to form mountains, and Tumen allowed rivers of sweet water to run into lakes and carved the earth into lush green valleys. Aberfory created hillsides and ridges crowned with snow and mighty trees in the frigid winter, and Tumen produced forests, meadows of wheat, shrubs and bushes laden with fruit in the blistering summer. Aberfory breathed life into sturdy beasts such as the bull, the lion, and the elephant, and Tumen tended to the insects, rodents, and other small animals.
Both brothers were skilled in magic or hitold, which meant “birthing of energy”, and both were very competitive with one another. They vied for the prettiest flower or the sturdiest landscape. They even attempted to make a bird as powerful and extraordinary as the falcon Hemond, resulting in the more inferior birth of the eagle and the hawk. But Aberfory and Tumen loved each other dearly; they would constantly run together across Earthe Maeliz, picking fruits to eat and laughing as they watched the animals frolic, and they would conceive and tell many stories. For several nights among those years they spent time with their mother, listening to tales of their father when Itlil and he held hands as they created the galaxies. And Itlil blessed them for the work they had done on the world they reigned over.
On the eve of the fifty-first year, Aberfory and Tumen decided that perhaps they could create something together rather than compete. The result was the red rose, its exquisite color blessed by Tumen’s eyes and its menacing thorns sharpened by Aberfory’s fingers. It had only blossomed for a moment when a dazzling young maiden emerged from the petals. Her hair was black as the winter’s night, lips as red as a ripened fruit. She was Firrah, later known as the goddess of beauty and fertility, and as she extended her hand in greeting the two gods fell deeply and blissfully in love with her.
Aberfory walked with Firrah across the plains of Earthe Maeliz, sitting with her on the sandy shores and giving her gemstones of sapphire and ruby as he kissed her lips and hair. Tumen danced with her in the moonlight, weaving flowers in her hair and caressing her cheeks and nose. Both brothers tended to her dearly, and such was her love for both of them that she did not realize the sort of dilemma she had gotten all three of them into until both Tumen and Aberfory asked to be betrothed to her.
As tension mounted between the two brothers, Firrah fled to the Moon to speak with Itlil. “Oh, queen of light, hear my plea!” she said. “I have led both your sons into a mad desire for my hand, and I fear that it will tear them apart. I fear also for the condition of Earthe Maeliz if your sons claw and rip at each other for my flesh. Your interference is vital to this world’s well-being and your sons’ contentment, for they cannot refuse the words of a mother such as you!”
So anxious and clamoring with Firrah’s state that Itlil took pity on her, and she called Aberfory and Tumen to discuss the matter. Both were eager to speak of why they were most fit to be Firrah’s husband, but Itlil silenced them with a wave of her hand.
“One thing is clear to all of us: that one of you shall walk away distorted with grief if the other is blindly given Firrah,” she said gently. “Therefore, you both must prove yourselves to me as not just powerful gods, but logical and well meaning ones. Thus, my test commences as so.
“This land is prospering, and creatures upon it are thriving. But there is still the lack of a living creature wise enough to labor for their gods and tend to the animals. Do this chore carefully and properly, Aberfory and Tumen, that I lay out for you. I desire a likeness of the gods to carry out any wishes we may so ask. This likeness we shall call a human, or ‘aspect of deity’, to be created and fit to withstand many elements for years to come.
“Come, sons! For a year your creations shall labor, and the group that survives the longest will belong to the son that marries the beautiful Firrah.” Itlil fell silent for a moment and perused her sons’ faces with eyes sparkling with conviction. “Do you accept?”
“Oh, yes!” cried Tumen eagerly. “This is most fair and welcome for the prosperity of our sanctimony and Earthe Maeliz!”
“Indeed,” replied Aberfory, a determined glint in his eye, and he added to himself, “I am given a most excellent advantage, for Tumen is keen at making silly, pretty things. But I build creations with vigor and strength that can stand against any storm. Tumen’s humans will surely tumble from a simple draft of wind.”
For days, the brothers were hard at work. Aberfory used clay, rock, and wood and created tough, sturdy men, and when he breathed life into them they were broad and brown in complexion. And they were indeed strong, stronger than any other beast on Earthe Maeliz. They could rip up trees and crush stones with the palms of their hands, and they were keen in sight, hearing, and smell. However, though Aberfory had made mighty hunters and fighters, he had forgotten to instill wisdom in them, and they became aggressive and incredibly dull and stupid. They could not even remember a name said to them, much less the name of a god.
Tumen, on the other hand, had collected leaves and sap from the trees of the forests, and, adding mud and sand, crafted men and women of smaller stature and of many different colors. When he breathed life into them, they were much weaker than other beasts and more prone to sickness and injury. However, unlike Aberfory’s humans, they were wise and after some toil learned to gather and store food for long periods of time. They also created many beautiful works of art and music, and every day they made sacrifices to the memory of Maeliz and to the goddess Itlil, who smiled back upon them and blessed them. Aberfory’s men, most adversely, paid no heed to Itlil and starved due to their lack of basic survival skills; those who lived killed one other for rations. Aberfory witnessed the famine and slaughter with shock and dismay, and he buried his face in his hands, unable to look upon his mother’s face for many days.
A year passed and Itlil called for Aberfory and Tumen again. This time Firrah was with her, looking more radiant and beautiful than ever before in a rainbow gown much like Itlil’s. At the sight of Firrah, Aberfory tore his eyes away, for he knew it was Tumen who would earn her hand. This was confirmed as Itlil praised Tumen for his work and let Firrah embrace him.
“Tumen, I bless you for your accomplishment in creating a glorious likeness to worship us,” Itlil said. “And Aberfory, I bless you as well, for though you failed in bringing chief wisdom into your strong men, your attempt was in good faith. You shall be praised for your hard work.” Aberfory said nothing in return.
Itlil then said, “Firrah is your bride, Tumen; rejoice and be glad of it! For I have another gift for you because of your achievement.”
“I am most grateful,” Tumen said, “but Firrah is the best gift you could ever give me. My people will build temples in your name, and they will bless you as the Mother God, wife of our father Maeliz. Aberfory will help us, and we will all live and laugh together as a happy family.”
“I am pleased by how humble and gracious you are, my son,” answered Itlil, “but it only strengthens my wish to offer this gift to you. Temples in my name are beautiful to hear of, but I have grown old and weary, and I wish to return to my home the Moon. My desire is to make you supreme god of Earthe Maeliz, for a people’s creator should be held in high honor. They shall worship you and your wife, and for that you will let them live long, happy lives. Come, Tumen, Supreme God of Earthe Maeliz, and let me kiss your forehead so that my blessing in upon you!”
Tumen’s face beamed with a hundred warm lights as he approached his mother, Firrah trailing behind him. Never had he dreamed of such a designation in all the world, and he rejoiced and was glad. But before Itlil could rest her lips on her son’s forehead a horrid scream rose from the throat of Aberfory. He had tried to keep silent in his humiliation and shame, but now it had become too much to bear as his face grew sickly pale and his eyes pulsed with a deadly fury. He pointed a shaking finger at Tumen, then at Firrah, and finally at Itlil.
“You have destroyed me!” he shrieked, his words mangled and contorted. “My spirit was already shattered when I could no longer grasp Firrah’s hand or kiss her lips, but this has destroyed everything I am made of and everything I have looked forward to! You say you bless me for my ‘attempt’—my failure to please you with the perfect likeness—and in my sight you praise my brother and give him supreme rule over what we both worked to create!
“Your blessing means nothing!” he howled. “You do not bless me! You merely warm me with false words, to make me feel welcome in your bosom, when my brother is placed high on a pedestal with the woman I love! And then I am tossed aside as the brother in the shadow. You have no need of me anymore. I would be of more use if I were clay like our wretched father! And here is my reply to you, Itlil, Mother Goddess: You are no mother to me, and Tumen is no brother to me! I could kill you both! And I will kill you both with my bare hands!”
Aberfory lunged at Tumen, clutching his throat with his hands in a mad frenzy, as Firrah screamed and shrank away from the crazed god. Tumen struggled furiously, but Aberfory was strong and did not loosen his grip. But Itlil rose slowly and raised her left hand, and in a loud voice cried, “Ubiliphet!” which, in the gods’ tongue, means “infliction”. With that word, a thunderclap resounded in the skies, and Aberfory was struck down by a bolt of fire, his hands ripped from Tumen’s throat. Then he lay still upon the ground.
Firrah rushed to Tumen’s aid as Itlil approached Aberfory. Aberfory stirred, coughing and gasping for breath, and slowly he crawled into a crouching position. At his brother’s appearance, Tumen shrank away in shock and fear, for Aberfory’s golden hair was now a sooty black, thick and wirey where the lightning had touched it, and his ruddy complexion had turned gaunt and pale. His now hollow eyes gazed emotionlessly up at his mother, who, with no word to her forsaken son, waved her right hand and cast Aberfory deep into the core of Earthe Maeliz.
When he came to, he was alone in a dark, cold domain, a vast and dreary landscape covered in a thick gray mist. Where Maeliz’s heart used to beat stone towers now rose to frightening heights and gray willows were stooped in age and deformity. Aberfory wandered mindlessly in this province for several weeks, and it was only then that he realized the madness that had driven him so far as to renounce his family, and the punishment he would have to face for it. With that sudden insight festering in his head, he clung to a stone and wept until all emotion but bitterness remained in his heart. Thus Aberfory built his kingdom in this dismal underworld, and it would be forever known to the gods and humans as the Black Abyss.
Next week - Part Two.
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