Friday's Whims of the Time Traveler 90.0: 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 Two.
Earthe Maeliz
This is Part Two.
by Belinda Roddie
Part Two: The Balance
Rejoice and blow the trumpets loud
For Firrah, our glorious queen!
And praise the ground we trod upon,
For Tumen, our glorious king!
For they at last are bound in love
While breaking our nourishing bread;
Rejoice and blow the trumpets loud
For Tumen and Firrah are wed!
The wedding was attended by all creations that lived upon Earthe Maeliz, and it was the most extraordinary celebration in the world’s history. The whole planet was alive in revel and festivities when Tumen, supreme god of Earthe Maeliz, and Firrah, goddess of beauty and fertility, celebrated their marriage, which had been blessed by the mother goddess Itlil. Great gifts were given to the couple, and Tumen bestowed his own gifts to the people, including long, happy lives, some up to five hundred years, and peaceful sleep when they passed on to death. Itlil embraced her son and new daughter and kissed them, and when the celebration was over she looked to the skies and ascended back to her Moon, where she stayed for the rest of eternity.
Tumen and Firrah built their home upon a sacred hillside. This lay along the eastern end of Earthe Maeliz, which was blessed by beautiful twilight and rich harvests. There the people constructed the gods’ grandest temple to be worshipped and sacrificed to, and Firrah soon birthed three wonderful children: Tamka, who danced and drank with much merriment among the mortal men and was called the goddess of festivities; Pylith, who roamed through villages to give the weary rest, giving her the reputation as the goddess of sleep; and Taureon, a handsome youth who from a very young age spent his time writing songs and playing them on a four-stringed guitar for all of the world to hear; in return, he was known as the god of music and art. Tumen and Firrah blessed their children, and they lived happily for many years. Everyone, gods and people alike, rejoiced and were at ease. That is, with the exception of Aberfory, the brother of Tumen who had been cursed to live forever in the Black Abyss.
Over the years, Aberfory’s black matted hair had been streaked with gray and his skin was drawn tightly across his face; he was a god who had aged too quickly. He sat upon his marble throne, his self-made staff in hand, and gazed upon the emptiness and loneliness of his so-called kingdom. He had seethed and spat when he learned he was not invited to his brother’s wedding, and now he grew furious at the sight of Tumen’s beautiful children. He used a seeing stone he had built from granite and instilled with his hitold, its magic now dark and evil in his hands, to watch the youths play together. It was when Firrah was with a fourth child that Aberfory used the seeing stone to speak to Tumen from the Black Abyss.
Tumen was standing in the meadows beside his house, listening to Taureon play his guitar, when Aberfory’s voice boomed from underneath his feet. “Tumen, Tumen,” it hissed, and Tumen did not recognize it as first, for the voice was cold and dry, very different from the way Aberfory had talked and laughed when the two brothers had created life together.
“Tumen,” Aberfory was saying, “my dear brother, at last I speak to you again. It’s been many years since you wed my Firrah and claimed such honorable rule over Earthe Maeliz. Many years, yes, but do you remember? Your dear brother Aberfory, who stood beside you and told you many stories. Those times have not grown dim in my memory, and not in yours, I sense. What also should not be dim in your mind is the reminder that I, your brother, am rotting in this wretched place called the Black Abyss.
“I’m sure you know how displeased I was when I learned of your wedding celebration and that I, unfortunately, could not attend. It is a pity, too, to see your offspring when they could have loved me as I held them in my arms. I speak to you now, Tumen, to warn you of my growing power, which I will not hesitate to demonstrate to you in full. Remember your fallen brother!”
Tumen replied, “I remember you well, Aberfory, and hold you deep in my heart. The good memories have not faded from my mind. But I hold you there in pity, for you remain in the Black Abyss by order of our mother, Itlil, and you very well know the reason for it.
“Do not forget the day when your hands grasped my throat with the objective to kill me, Aberfory! It was your jealousy that consumed you, and your mistake that cast you into the underworld that you now rule blindly over with no subjects. You could have remained here with me and Firrah, and my children, and you would have been honored throughout the land. You do not frighten me, Aberfory, and you certainly cannot harm me!”
So Tumen spoke, and turning his heel he led Taureon back to their dwelling. Aberfory watched them go through his seeing stone, his face hot with quiet fury—but he felt a malevolent mischief burning in his eyes. That night, he rose from his throne and walked slowly, leaning on his staff, toward the most twisted of the willows that hung about his realm. He touched its knotted bark with his fingers, and the stone set in his staff began to glow a hideous green.
“I see the face of my brother,” said Aberfory, “and I curse it. I hear the laughter of Firrah and her children, and I curse it. I feel the heartbeat, the restless heartbeat of Firrah’s unborn baby, and though it should warm my own heart, I curse it, and I curse it a thousand times more! I inflict my spell upon this child and upon Tumen: this child shall be ugly, uglier than the most unsightly beast that roams the plains. He shall be rejected, outcast, and when he feels the pang of love like I did for Firrah, Tumen’s people will react most evilly to it. The blood of a god will be spilled by human hands, and they shall be punished, and my kingdom will be mightier than all the fires that once blazed upon my father Maeliz’s body!”
With those words he tore at the willow bark with his fingernails, drawing a hideous face, as the green light emanating from his staff melted into a horrible red. Then Aberfory heard the scream that rose from Firrah’s throat in the last throes of her labor, and he smiled.
Rolf, the fourth son of Tumen and Firrah, suffered dearly under Aberfory’s curse. Aberfory’s magic had laden Rolf’s face with black, dreadful scars. His skin was blotched and sagging about his gaunt cheeks and misshapen nose, his forehead and upper lip were hideously swollen, and his eyes, though they were the only beautiful part of him, were surrounded by thick, brown and red blemishes. He was a gruesome sight to behold; his sisters turned their faces away and wept, and even Firrah could not bear to look upon her son. Only Tumen and Taureon dared to look at Rolf’s visage, and they overlooked it and cared for him dearly.
Rolf, ugly as he was, spoke beautifully at a young age, and he grew to love romping in the meadows with Taureon and listening to his brother’s music. He loved flowers and snow and anything remotely beautiful, and he was known as one of the gentlest and most sympathetic of all the gods, even when he had to wear a mask of gold and red cloth to conceal his hideous face.
When Rolf came of age, Taureon and he decided that an adventure would be most beneficial for both of their well-being. After all, the two had grown excitable and desired to do something more than roam in the meadows near their home. They asked to speak with their mother and father on the matter. At first, they discouraged their sons to leave their dwelling, but Rolf held firm.
“I am grateful for the love you have bore for me for so long,” Rolf said, “but I feel a longing to venture into the outside world. I wish to see these mortals who live such long, benevolent, and devout lives, and I wish to participate in this life with them. I am fascinated by the humans you have created and I desire to be in their company.
“Do not remind me of the repulsiveness that lies behind this mask,” Rolf added quickly before Firrah had a chance to speak. “And do not think I am going alone. Taureon has agreed to come with me and be my companion, for he can soothe any loneliness that may come upon me with his words or music. Do this, father and mother, for my sake, so you do not pity me any longer. I already pity myself too much.”
The two older gods hesitated at first, but after a moment of thought, Tumen replied, “Child, I bless you and give you permission to venture with Taureon into the mortal world. Take heed, though; you cannot and should not appear as gods. It has been many years since our last appearance and it could cause disruption in the mindsets of our people. Therefore, I grant you the guise and spirit of a mortal that you may use as you please, but take care, for like mortals, you will have become vulnerable to the dangers that surround you. I know, however, that you will be strong nonetheless, and may Itlil, the Mother Goddess, give you strength!”
Rolf thanked his father profusely as Taureon prepared for their travels. Then he gently kissed his mother, who for the first time beamed at him with teary eyes.
“My love is strong for you, mother. Do not forget,” Rolf said, then he turned away and descended down the hillside with his brother. Then, as soon as they set foot out of the last sacred meadow, the two gods became mortal beings.
The tales of Rolf and Taureon’s journey would take much time to recite, and already this tale has grown long. Therefore, let us come to the climax of their adventure, when they both entered the mightiest kingdom in all of Earthe Maeliz. It was rich in culture, art, and music, ruled by the kind but stubborn King Brokel, who was rumored to have killed his mother and wandered for many years as a madman before he recovered. His son, Prince Reyn, was renowned as a wise, extravagant lad, who often appeared publicly to inform the people of his father’s purposes.
Rolf and Taureon settled happily in this kingdom; Taureon worked as a bard to pay off their stay at the inn and Rolf, though he could find no suitable occupation, enjoyed wandering about the vast empire. He was admiring the castle and its many gardens at a distance, for he was a gardener himself and still loved flowers, when he saw Brokel’s daughter, Mivi, traipsing by the trees and bushes, her auburn hair fluttering in the wind. Thus the second chapter of Aberfory’s curse unfolded, and Rolf fell madly in love with the princess.
A day came when Brokel claimed his daughter fit to be married, and hundreds of suitors came to the castle offering gifts to Mivi. Rolf, much against Taureon’s will, was one of them, standing out from the rest due to his mask and beautiful silk cloak woven by his sister Pylith as a farewell present. The gifts the suitors displayed were mostly of gold, jewels, or gowns. Reyn clucked his tongue distastefully at them.
“These men are idle, shallow things. They think nothing but of luxury and wealth!” he whispered to his father. “Mivi and our kingdom deserve a man who has a spirit heartier than the finest wine in all the land, not artificial like an emerald.”
At last the suitors flitted away and only Rolf remained, bowing his head as he approached the royal family. The king smiled warmly and looked at his son.
“There, now, this is a humble boy!” he said. “Yet so mysterious. He wears a fine mask, certainly, but it holds a strange aura about him.”
All the suspicion the king held dissolved, however, when Rolf kissed Mivi’s hand and presented her with the humblest but most beautiful gift of all the suitors: a bouquet of lilies, her favorite flower. Rolf bowed deeply to the princess, murmuring, “I am your servant, your highness.”
“And perhaps better than that, if you will see me tomorrow,” Mivi replied.
So for a year Rolf and Mivi spent their days on the outskirts of the city and within Mivi’s chamber, their love growing as strong as the love between Itlil and Maeliz, if not stronger, and certainly not meant to be lost. Rolf shortly became a castle gardener, and Mivi would tend to the lilies he grew while Reyn frequently talked with Rolf on matters ranging from the water supply to the quality of their horses. He was impressed by Rolf’s idealistic views and his modest tongue, though the words he spoke still “were lit with a passion I had never seen before,” in the words of the prince in later years. Brokel enjoyed Rolf’s company dearly and they would drink together, laughing about the day’s events. So went the year that was of most unending happiness for Rolf, and most unending worry for Taureon. For he knew that when the time came, Mivi would ask Rolf to remove the beautiful mask he wore so she could look upon his face.
“Perhaps it would be foolish of you to see her tonight,” he said to Rolf as his brother prepared to depart for the castle again. “Surely you understand that her curiosity will get the better of her. No lover desires a life with one who will not show his face. Heed my warning: it is better for you to end this and stay with me. Or perhaps you should end this passion for one another once and for all, for Maeliz knows it will hurt you both in the end!”
But Rolf replied, “Taureon, do you truly expect me to follow such orders? It is true that not even my father can reverse this horrid disfigurement, but I will not let it hinder me from love or compassion. Do not force me to live a life of loneliness and solitude due to my face, for you have said so yourself that beauty lives in the soul and not in the flesh. Truly you must remember that, for they are your words!”
Taureon said, “I cannot stop you, Rolf. I can see it so in your eyes. However, remember, as you leave this room, that I will not have warned you in vain. For I tell you that at the end of the year Mivi will ask you to show her your face!”
“Do not trouble me with your worries. My heart will overcome all of that,” said Rolf, and he departed, although he did feel, in the back of his mind, that Taureon’s prophecy would come true. He, too, knew that despite his wise words, the princess may not be as in love with him as he hoped, and most likely if she lay eyes upon his visage she would cast him aside in disgust.
The night of the New Year was beautiful as Rolf and Mivi held hands upon the bridge that stood not far from the castle gates. As the two embraced, Mivi ran her fingers through Rolf’s hair and spoke in a gentle whisper. “This year has been the happiest of my life. The gods know how much I love you, Rolf, and cherish you. But one thing haunts me every night when I sleep, whether you are beside me or not. One property stings me with curiosity, and I think frequently of it. I dream of seeing your face, Rolf. Be it belonging to a lord, a thief, or a beggar, I ask you, please: remove your mask so I can look upon your visage. Only then will all of my questions will be answered.”
At the sound of her words, Rolf drew away in fear. Already Taureon’s warning was echoing in his mind. “Mivi, I would do anything for you,” he discovered himself saying. “I would grow lilies on the other side of the world and stop storms for you. But your request is one wish I cannot grant. Remove my mask, and everything you have loved will mean nothing to you. I say now that what you will uncover is a curse. You could not bring yourself to see me again!”
But Mivi paid no heed to his words. “Fear me not! What you may think will ruin us will only make things stronger. Itlil of the moon has blessed us and I desire no more secrets! If you will not remove your mask, I will do it myself!”
Thus she tore the mask from Rolf’s face and cast it aside on the bridge. Silence hovered around them like heavy mist. Rolf did not even move to cover his face; the damage had already been done, and anger brewed in him like hot magna. His eyes flashed, and his face became twisted and more horrid than ever in his rage and sorrow.
“See! See what you have done!” he roared. “Did I not warn you? Could you not at least let me keep a secret that would have held us together! See my face! Touch it!” He seized Mivi’s hands and pressed them against his cheeks. “Is it satisfying for you to see my disfigurement unfolded in the moonlight? Look at me! Are you happy? Will you now reject me and run away in terror? Why do you stare as if something paralyzed you? Answer me! Answer quick!”
Mivi spoke no words, but in response to Rolf’s raving she caressed the scars that were carved into his face. She let her thumbs pass over the irregularities of his skin and the sagging flesh of his nose and cheeks. Then she pressed her nose to his, and spoke now in a much more powerful voice.
“No such thing will tear me away from the man I love who is more beautiful than all the lilies that can ever grow on this planet.”
With those words she kissed him passionately, and Rolf felt a burden suddenly lift from his shoulders. Their embrace was long and powerful, but as they pulled away, a blood-curdling scream came from the castle window. Prince Reyn had seen the unmasking and the kiss that Mivi had given him as an answer, and he was immediately consumed with loathing and disgust.
“You will be hanged for this diabolical curse you bring upon our kingdom!” he roared. “My father shall know of this, and your body will be dragged through the streets!”
The third and most horrendous chapter of Aberfory’s curse was underway, and under the king’s orders seventy men were instructed to slay Rolf, told that he was a demon from the foul pits of a nonexistent Hell. Rolf and Mivi fled, running for many miles over the plains and hills that encircled the kingdom. They ran until they were stopped at a large crevasse leading to a rocky and watery fall and obstructing their escape. Rolf took Mivi in his arms as she wailed in dismay at their predicament.
“Do not look at me, whatever you do! Do not see me fall!” Rolf cried. Then an arrow from a soldier plunged into his back with such strength that it went clear through his heart, and with one last grieved look at his love, Rolf let Mivi tumble from his grasp and fell to his death into the ravine. Mivi, in her despair and hopelessness, leapt off to join him before the soldiers could reach her.
Silence fell over all of Earthe Maeliz as the bodies of Rolf and Mivi floated motionlessly in the water. Taureon, from the room he had shared with Rolf in the inn, immediately sensed his brother’s demise, and his howl of anguish echoed through all of the hills, and all of the mountains, and all of the valleys of the world. At once the world knew what had become of Rolf, the ugly son of Tumen, and his true love Princess Mivi, and the entire world was cast into sorrow and grief. The life of mortals had been struck a horrible blow, and they would be punished dearly for the actions of King Brokel and Prince Reyn.
The soldiers could not carry Mivi’s body away, for her arms had become intertwined around Rolf’s body and would not be loosed. Taureon then appeared in his godliness to the soldiers, and they retreated in terror. Then he carried the two bodies back to the dwelling of Tumen and Firrah. He laid Mivi and Rolf on the floor of their home, his eyes burning with a thousand tears, and all of his family wept.
“My brother did a remarkable thing—he was beautiful through a hideous exterior,” Taureon said, his voice quivering with misery and fury. “He found a love stronger than all the love upon this wretched clay. And it was ripped away from him by the humans whom you cherish so dearly and give such glorious gifts to!” His voice rose in a high crescendo. “This is how they repay you! They murder your son, a god! And they must be punished for it! Every mortal, from east to west, the mountains to the shorelines, must feel your wrath upon them. And I will not rest or find anything beautiful, be it laughter or music, until this is done!”
So Taureon passionately spoke. Tumen stood solemnly, his eyes hard, and replied, “So it shall be as you wish, Taureon. And it shall be as I wish as well. No human will remain unpunished for the death of my son! I shall divide their kingdoms and the flesh of Earthe Maeliz and scatter it across the waters, save for his heart, the Black Abyss. There in that cold realm the people I have created shall wander after I have cut the spans of their lives short, and they will repent for the misdeeds they have done against their gods!”
Then he buried the bodies of Rolf and Mivi on a beautiful hillside, and the gods looked upon it and wept. Taureon visited the spot frequently, playing his guitar in hopes that his departed brother would hear it, and until the bodies were unearthed and carried in a procession to a proper tomb, lilies grew around the grave and, no matter what the season, were always in full blossom.
Brokel, who after the death of his daughter had departed into the throes of madness once more, was the first to die young, two and eighty years, and Tumen’s command was carried out across the land. From then on, people died of disease, famine, and wars due to the formation of the continents, and their spirits lingered within the dark place that was the Black Abyss. Aberfory’s curse was complete, and now he watched the souls around him, growing in numbers, while he laughed in horrid merriment. “Now I have my kingdom,” he said, “and now I will be mightier than my brother and my father! I, Aberfory, God of the Underworld!”
The story does not end here, with the people of Earthe Maeliz damned to misery for eternity. For it was when the number of souls in the Black Abyss grew massive that Aberfory noticed the cries of agony and sorrow from those who had died. Then he saw the procession leading Rolf and Mivi to their tomb, still embracing one another in death. For the first time in several eras, Aberfory felt something different than bitterness, hatred, or vengeance. His heart was heavy with pity. One night, alone in the palace the dead had erected for him, he unwrapped his seeing stone and called to his brother.
“Tumen, Supreme God of Earthe Maeliz! Hear my cry and allow me to see you face to face! I can no longer endure the compassion and remorse I have in my heart. I have not felt more like the old Aberfory than any other day I have been in this kingdom. I repent! Tumen, my brother, answer me!”
Within moments Aberfory found himself in Tumen’s temple, and his brother stood before him, dressed in mourning garb. Aberfory was a horrid sight for Tumen to behold, much different than the golden-haired and ruddy-faced companion he had been with so many years ago. And now, after all the years that Aberfory had cursed and spat at Tumen, he now lay huddled at his feet, kissing his robes and weeping.
“Tumen, most profoundly I confess my wrongdoings,” Aberfory said. “The day I spoke to you harshly I used my hitold I brought the terrible ugliness upon Rolf, your son. I carefully laid out his life and the outcome of it, and the punishment your people would endure for it. I yearned for a kingdom of my own, and my heart, stony as it had been for many years, was filled with venomous joy when my wish was fulfilled.
“But no sooner had the joy come that I saw your son’s face in the procession and heard the mournful cries of your people that the stone in my heart cracked. I have never felt such emotion since the day I cursed you and our dear mother Itlil.” Aberfory then fell into another violent fit of weeping. “Dear brother, forgive me! Forgive me for all the things I have done and remove your terrible punishment upon your people! Then I shall decay in the Black Abyss, as it is what I deserve! Dear Tumen, supreme god, my brother!”
Tumen listened to Aberfory’s words and gazed at him with eyes glittering with wonder. In a voice that was sharp and blunt, he said, “Aberfory, I hear your confession and comprehend it. You have been honest to me, and I am grateful. But what you have inflicted upon my people, Aberfory, is far greater than you imagined. When I cut the lives of my people short and sent them to your realm, I did it so it cannot be removed. It is horrible, but I did it out of anger and grief. My son was murdered, and now I hear it was done by you, my cursed brother, hungry for power that I have given to you in my spite.”
At these words, Aberfory only wept harder. Then the brutality in Tumen’s voice faded, and Aberfory looked up in surprise when he heard the kindness that replaced it. “Do not grovel any longer, Aberfory. Get up and take my hand. Though I cannot remove my curse of death upon my people, I can redeem some of the happiness I once gave them if we can combine your confession and my hitold. You will be forgiven for all of your actions if you can give me a drop of your blood and your confession of all your hateful deeds on the parchment I give you. Then perhaps all can be set right.”
Aberfory eagerly accepted. The drop of blood was stored quickly in a crystal vial, and Aberfory’s confession was long and dramatic after he finished writing it on the parchment Tumen offered. Then Tumen took these objects, blessed them with his magic, and let them rest upon the altars where the ministers preached, and in a few moments the two items slowly vanished into the air. All at once the air seemed to lose its heaviness, and light spilled into the temple, more dazzling than the light of the sun at dawn. Tumen turned to face his brother.
“Aberfory, brother, you expected me to punish you greatly for what you have done,” he said, “but it appears that you have already punished yourself, through your pity and your repentance. But now that you have returned and done what I have asked, look outside and see the design we have both set in motion. Then return to me with what you find!”
Aberfory obeyed quickly, and he was astonished by what he saw. Outside the temple Rolf and Mivi stood, dressed in stunning white garments and holding hands. The only difference was that Rolf was now beautiful beyond words, his fair skin and dark hair shining in the sunlight: his inner beauty displayed for everyone to see. Rolf took his uncle’s hand and kissed it, and the three walked back into the temple to see all of the other gods in assembly: Firrah, Tamka, Pylith, Taureon, and Tumen, all dressed in robes of different colors and adornments. At the sight of Rolf renewed, Firrah and her children rejoiced and embraced him, with Taureon embracing Rolf far longer than rest. When that was done Tumen had Rolf, Mivi, and Aberfory stand in front of him.
“Rolf, I welcome you back to Earthe Maeliz, and my heart is filled with happiness to see your face again,” Tumen declared. “Mivi, I bless you and welcome you as a goddess to our realm. You shall be granted immortality and blessed with Rolf’s love for eternity.”
“I am grateful,” said Mivi. “And perhaps I knew, as Rolf and I floated upon the waters in the gorge, that it was not the end of our story. Therefore, I am grateful.”
“As for the plan I have carried out, thanks to my brother,” Tumen continued, “the blue skies above us have been given a new name, and a kingdom has been built upon the horizon. These are the heavens, and Rolf and Mivi shall be rulers of it. My people may live short and perhaps unhappy lives, but if they are benevolent and fulfilled in their deeds and motives they shall ascend to your heavenly dwelling, where they will live in merriment for eternity. Your son, Taureon, will bring these souls to remain with you, and he will play music for them.”
So Tumen spoke, and at the words Rolf and Mivi were filled with endless gratitude, and they joined the other gods behind the supreme god. Tumen approached Aberfory and placed his hand gently upon his brother’s face.
“When you came to me, Aberfory, you said you deserved to decay in the Black Abyss for what you did and the power that you desired,” he said. “In response, I shall grant you a holy duty you could not have imagined before. Once you were a god of life, creating the world and its inhabitants by my side. Now you will govern my people who are malevolent and must be kept under a watchful eye for the rest of eternity. They shall be punished for their misdeeds in life and look to you as their king. Kashtar, the dragon that once drove our father’s chariot, will be restored from his current weak state to aid you in bringing these souls to the Black Abyss to be punished.
“Rejoice in these words, Aberfory: I have forgiven you. And from what I can feel from the moon’s presence, our mother has forgiven you as well. She blesses you and wishes you return as her son and my brother, a respected god of Earthe Maeliz!”
So declared Tumen, and at once Aberfory felt all weariness and hatred fall from his spirit. His hair turned a rich brown and his face grew full and youthful again, and he embraced his brother, crying, “Tumen! Brother! It has been too long!” Now his heart was filled with the desire to carry out his brother’s orders, and for the rest of eternity he worked happily with the gods to carry out the life cycle that governed all living creatures on Earthe Maeliz.
So it went that the name Earthe Maeliz, many centuries after, was shortened to Earth, a word in the gods’ tongue meaning “rebirth.” And as the aurora fades, the twilight comes, and life moves upon the clay that is our world now and forever more.
Part Two: The Balance
Rejoice and blow the trumpets loud
For Firrah, our glorious queen!
And praise the ground we trod upon,
For Tumen, our glorious king!
For they at last are bound in love
While breaking our nourishing bread;
Rejoice and blow the trumpets loud
For Tumen and Firrah are wed!
The wedding was attended by all creations that lived upon Earthe Maeliz, and it was the most extraordinary celebration in the world’s history. The whole planet was alive in revel and festivities when Tumen, supreme god of Earthe Maeliz, and Firrah, goddess of beauty and fertility, celebrated their marriage, which had been blessed by the mother goddess Itlil. Great gifts were given to the couple, and Tumen bestowed his own gifts to the people, including long, happy lives, some up to five hundred years, and peaceful sleep when they passed on to death. Itlil embraced her son and new daughter and kissed them, and when the celebration was over she looked to the skies and ascended back to her Moon, where she stayed for the rest of eternity.
Tumen and Firrah built their home upon a sacred hillside. This lay along the eastern end of Earthe Maeliz, which was blessed by beautiful twilight and rich harvests. There the people constructed the gods’ grandest temple to be worshipped and sacrificed to, and Firrah soon birthed three wonderful children: Tamka, who danced and drank with much merriment among the mortal men and was called the goddess of festivities; Pylith, who roamed through villages to give the weary rest, giving her the reputation as the goddess of sleep; and Taureon, a handsome youth who from a very young age spent his time writing songs and playing them on a four-stringed guitar for all of the world to hear; in return, he was known as the god of music and art. Tumen and Firrah blessed their children, and they lived happily for many years. Everyone, gods and people alike, rejoiced and were at ease. That is, with the exception of Aberfory, the brother of Tumen who had been cursed to live forever in the Black Abyss.
Over the years, Aberfory’s black matted hair had been streaked with gray and his skin was drawn tightly across his face; he was a god who had aged too quickly. He sat upon his marble throne, his self-made staff in hand, and gazed upon the emptiness and loneliness of his so-called kingdom. He had seethed and spat when he learned he was not invited to his brother’s wedding, and now he grew furious at the sight of Tumen’s beautiful children. He used a seeing stone he had built from granite and instilled with his hitold, its magic now dark and evil in his hands, to watch the youths play together. It was when Firrah was with a fourth child that Aberfory used the seeing stone to speak to Tumen from the Black Abyss.
Tumen was standing in the meadows beside his house, listening to Taureon play his guitar, when Aberfory’s voice boomed from underneath his feet. “Tumen, Tumen,” it hissed, and Tumen did not recognize it as first, for the voice was cold and dry, very different from the way Aberfory had talked and laughed when the two brothers had created life together.
“Tumen,” Aberfory was saying, “my dear brother, at last I speak to you again. It’s been many years since you wed my Firrah and claimed such honorable rule over Earthe Maeliz. Many years, yes, but do you remember? Your dear brother Aberfory, who stood beside you and told you many stories. Those times have not grown dim in my memory, and not in yours, I sense. What also should not be dim in your mind is the reminder that I, your brother, am rotting in this wretched place called the Black Abyss.
“I’m sure you know how displeased I was when I learned of your wedding celebration and that I, unfortunately, could not attend. It is a pity, too, to see your offspring when they could have loved me as I held them in my arms. I speak to you now, Tumen, to warn you of my growing power, which I will not hesitate to demonstrate to you in full. Remember your fallen brother!”
Tumen replied, “I remember you well, Aberfory, and hold you deep in my heart. The good memories have not faded from my mind. But I hold you there in pity, for you remain in the Black Abyss by order of our mother, Itlil, and you very well know the reason for it.
“Do not forget the day when your hands grasped my throat with the objective to kill me, Aberfory! It was your jealousy that consumed you, and your mistake that cast you into the underworld that you now rule blindly over with no subjects. You could have remained here with me and Firrah, and my children, and you would have been honored throughout the land. You do not frighten me, Aberfory, and you certainly cannot harm me!”
So Tumen spoke, and turning his heel he led Taureon back to their dwelling. Aberfory watched them go through his seeing stone, his face hot with quiet fury—but he felt a malevolent mischief burning in his eyes. That night, he rose from his throne and walked slowly, leaning on his staff, toward the most twisted of the willows that hung about his realm. He touched its knotted bark with his fingers, and the stone set in his staff began to glow a hideous green.
“I see the face of my brother,” said Aberfory, “and I curse it. I hear the laughter of Firrah and her children, and I curse it. I feel the heartbeat, the restless heartbeat of Firrah’s unborn baby, and though it should warm my own heart, I curse it, and I curse it a thousand times more! I inflict my spell upon this child and upon Tumen: this child shall be ugly, uglier than the most unsightly beast that roams the plains. He shall be rejected, outcast, and when he feels the pang of love like I did for Firrah, Tumen’s people will react most evilly to it. The blood of a god will be spilled by human hands, and they shall be punished, and my kingdom will be mightier than all the fires that once blazed upon my father Maeliz’s body!”
With those words he tore at the willow bark with his fingernails, drawing a hideous face, as the green light emanating from his staff melted into a horrible red. Then Aberfory heard the scream that rose from Firrah’s throat in the last throes of her labor, and he smiled.
Rolf, the fourth son of Tumen and Firrah, suffered dearly under Aberfory’s curse. Aberfory’s magic had laden Rolf’s face with black, dreadful scars. His skin was blotched and sagging about his gaunt cheeks and misshapen nose, his forehead and upper lip were hideously swollen, and his eyes, though they were the only beautiful part of him, were surrounded by thick, brown and red blemishes. He was a gruesome sight to behold; his sisters turned their faces away and wept, and even Firrah could not bear to look upon her son. Only Tumen and Taureon dared to look at Rolf’s visage, and they overlooked it and cared for him dearly.
Rolf, ugly as he was, spoke beautifully at a young age, and he grew to love romping in the meadows with Taureon and listening to his brother’s music. He loved flowers and snow and anything remotely beautiful, and he was known as one of the gentlest and most sympathetic of all the gods, even when he had to wear a mask of gold and red cloth to conceal his hideous face.
When Rolf came of age, Taureon and he decided that an adventure would be most beneficial for both of their well-being. After all, the two had grown excitable and desired to do something more than roam in the meadows near their home. They asked to speak with their mother and father on the matter. At first, they discouraged their sons to leave their dwelling, but Rolf held firm.
“I am grateful for the love you have bore for me for so long,” Rolf said, “but I feel a longing to venture into the outside world. I wish to see these mortals who live such long, benevolent, and devout lives, and I wish to participate in this life with them. I am fascinated by the humans you have created and I desire to be in their company.
“Do not remind me of the repulsiveness that lies behind this mask,” Rolf added quickly before Firrah had a chance to speak. “And do not think I am going alone. Taureon has agreed to come with me and be my companion, for he can soothe any loneliness that may come upon me with his words or music. Do this, father and mother, for my sake, so you do not pity me any longer. I already pity myself too much.”
The two older gods hesitated at first, but after a moment of thought, Tumen replied, “Child, I bless you and give you permission to venture with Taureon into the mortal world. Take heed, though; you cannot and should not appear as gods. It has been many years since our last appearance and it could cause disruption in the mindsets of our people. Therefore, I grant you the guise and spirit of a mortal that you may use as you please, but take care, for like mortals, you will have become vulnerable to the dangers that surround you. I know, however, that you will be strong nonetheless, and may Itlil, the Mother Goddess, give you strength!”
Rolf thanked his father profusely as Taureon prepared for their travels. Then he gently kissed his mother, who for the first time beamed at him with teary eyes.
“My love is strong for you, mother. Do not forget,” Rolf said, then he turned away and descended down the hillside with his brother. Then, as soon as they set foot out of the last sacred meadow, the two gods became mortal beings.
The tales of Rolf and Taureon’s journey would take much time to recite, and already this tale has grown long. Therefore, let us come to the climax of their adventure, when they both entered the mightiest kingdom in all of Earthe Maeliz. It was rich in culture, art, and music, ruled by the kind but stubborn King Brokel, who was rumored to have killed his mother and wandered for many years as a madman before he recovered. His son, Prince Reyn, was renowned as a wise, extravagant lad, who often appeared publicly to inform the people of his father’s purposes.
Rolf and Taureon settled happily in this kingdom; Taureon worked as a bard to pay off their stay at the inn and Rolf, though he could find no suitable occupation, enjoyed wandering about the vast empire. He was admiring the castle and its many gardens at a distance, for he was a gardener himself and still loved flowers, when he saw Brokel’s daughter, Mivi, traipsing by the trees and bushes, her auburn hair fluttering in the wind. Thus the second chapter of Aberfory’s curse unfolded, and Rolf fell madly in love with the princess.
A day came when Brokel claimed his daughter fit to be married, and hundreds of suitors came to the castle offering gifts to Mivi. Rolf, much against Taureon’s will, was one of them, standing out from the rest due to his mask and beautiful silk cloak woven by his sister Pylith as a farewell present. The gifts the suitors displayed were mostly of gold, jewels, or gowns. Reyn clucked his tongue distastefully at them.
“These men are idle, shallow things. They think nothing but of luxury and wealth!” he whispered to his father. “Mivi and our kingdom deserve a man who has a spirit heartier than the finest wine in all the land, not artificial like an emerald.”
At last the suitors flitted away and only Rolf remained, bowing his head as he approached the royal family. The king smiled warmly and looked at his son.
“There, now, this is a humble boy!” he said. “Yet so mysterious. He wears a fine mask, certainly, but it holds a strange aura about him.”
All the suspicion the king held dissolved, however, when Rolf kissed Mivi’s hand and presented her with the humblest but most beautiful gift of all the suitors: a bouquet of lilies, her favorite flower. Rolf bowed deeply to the princess, murmuring, “I am your servant, your highness.”
“And perhaps better than that, if you will see me tomorrow,” Mivi replied.
So for a year Rolf and Mivi spent their days on the outskirts of the city and within Mivi’s chamber, their love growing as strong as the love between Itlil and Maeliz, if not stronger, and certainly not meant to be lost. Rolf shortly became a castle gardener, and Mivi would tend to the lilies he grew while Reyn frequently talked with Rolf on matters ranging from the water supply to the quality of their horses. He was impressed by Rolf’s idealistic views and his modest tongue, though the words he spoke still “were lit with a passion I had never seen before,” in the words of the prince in later years. Brokel enjoyed Rolf’s company dearly and they would drink together, laughing about the day’s events. So went the year that was of most unending happiness for Rolf, and most unending worry for Taureon. For he knew that when the time came, Mivi would ask Rolf to remove the beautiful mask he wore so she could look upon his face.
“Perhaps it would be foolish of you to see her tonight,” he said to Rolf as his brother prepared to depart for the castle again. “Surely you understand that her curiosity will get the better of her. No lover desires a life with one who will not show his face. Heed my warning: it is better for you to end this and stay with me. Or perhaps you should end this passion for one another once and for all, for Maeliz knows it will hurt you both in the end!”
But Rolf replied, “Taureon, do you truly expect me to follow such orders? It is true that not even my father can reverse this horrid disfigurement, but I will not let it hinder me from love or compassion. Do not force me to live a life of loneliness and solitude due to my face, for you have said so yourself that beauty lives in the soul and not in the flesh. Truly you must remember that, for they are your words!”
Taureon said, “I cannot stop you, Rolf. I can see it so in your eyes. However, remember, as you leave this room, that I will not have warned you in vain. For I tell you that at the end of the year Mivi will ask you to show her your face!”
“Do not trouble me with your worries. My heart will overcome all of that,” said Rolf, and he departed, although he did feel, in the back of his mind, that Taureon’s prophecy would come true. He, too, knew that despite his wise words, the princess may not be as in love with him as he hoped, and most likely if she lay eyes upon his visage she would cast him aside in disgust.
The night of the New Year was beautiful as Rolf and Mivi held hands upon the bridge that stood not far from the castle gates. As the two embraced, Mivi ran her fingers through Rolf’s hair and spoke in a gentle whisper. “This year has been the happiest of my life. The gods know how much I love you, Rolf, and cherish you. But one thing haunts me every night when I sleep, whether you are beside me or not. One property stings me with curiosity, and I think frequently of it. I dream of seeing your face, Rolf. Be it belonging to a lord, a thief, or a beggar, I ask you, please: remove your mask so I can look upon your visage. Only then will all of my questions will be answered.”
At the sound of her words, Rolf drew away in fear. Already Taureon’s warning was echoing in his mind. “Mivi, I would do anything for you,” he discovered himself saying. “I would grow lilies on the other side of the world and stop storms for you. But your request is one wish I cannot grant. Remove my mask, and everything you have loved will mean nothing to you. I say now that what you will uncover is a curse. You could not bring yourself to see me again!”
But Mivi paid no heed to his words. “Fear me not! What you may think will ruin us will only make things stronger. Itlil of the moon has blessed us and I desire no more secrets! If you will not remove your mask, I will do it myself!”
Thus she tore the mask from Rolf’s face and cast it aside on the bridge. Silence hovered around them like heavy mist. Rolf did not even move to cover his face; the damage had already been done, and anger brewed in him like hot magna. His eyes flashed, and his face became twisted and more horrid than ever in his rage and sorrow.
“See! See what you have done!” he roared. “Did I not warn you? Could you not at least let me keep a secret that would have held us together! See my face! Touch it!” He seized Mivi’s hands and pressed them against his cheeks. “Is it satisfying for you to see my disfigurement unfolded in the moonlight? Look at me! Are you happy? Will you now reject me and run away in terror? Why do you stare as if something paralyzed you? Answer me! Answer quick!”
Mivi spoke no words, but in response to Rolf’s raving she caressed the scars that were carved into his face. She let her thumbs pass over the irregularities of his skin and the sagging flesh of his nose and cheeks. Then she pressed her nose to his, and spoke now in a much more powerful voice.
“No such thing will tear me away from the man I love who is more beautiful than all the lilies that can ever grow on this planet.”
With those words she kissed him passionately, and Rolf felt a burden suddenly lift from his shoulders. Their embrace was long and powerful, but as they pulled away, a blood-curdling scream came from the castle window. Prince Reyn had seen the unmasking and the kiss that Mivi had given him as an answer, and he was immediately consumed with loathing and disgust.
“You will be hanged for this diabolical curse you bring upon our kingdom!” he roared. “My father shall know of this, and your body will be dragged through the streets!”
The third and most horrendous chapter of Aberfory’s curse was underway, and under the king’s orders seventy men were instructed to slay Rolf, told that he was a demon from the foul pits of a nonexistent Hell. Rolf and Mivi fled, running for many miles over the plains and hills that encircled the kingdom. They ran until they were stopped at a large crevasse leading to a rocky and watery fall and obstructing their escape. Rolf took Mivi in his arms as she wailed in dismay at their predicament.
“Do not look at me, whatever you do! Do not see me fall!” Rolf cried. Then an arrow from a soldier plunged into his back with such strength that it went clear through his heart, and with one last grieved look at his love, Rolf let Mivi tumble from his grasp and fell to his death into the ravine. Mivi, in her despair and hopelessness, leapt off to join him before the soldiers could reach her.
Silence fell over all of Earthe Maeliz as the bodies of Rolf and Mivi floated motionlessly in the water. Taureon, from the room he had shared with Rolf in the inn, immediately sensed his brother’s demise, and his howl of anguish echoed through all of the hills, and all of the mountains, and all of the valleys of the world. At once the world knew what had become of Rolf, the ugly son of Tumen, and his true love Princess Mivi, and the entire world was cast into sorrow and grief. The life of mortals had been struck a horrible blow, and they would be punished dearly for the actions of King Brokel and Prince Reyn.
The soldiers could not carry Mivi’s body away, for her arms had become intertwined around Rolf’s body and would not be loosed. Taureon then appeared in his godliness to the soldiers, and they retreated in terror. Then he carried the two bodies back to the dwelling of Tumen and Firrah. He laid Mivi and Rolf on the floor of their home, his eyes burning with a thousand tears, and all of his family wept.
“My brother did a remarkable thing—he was beautiful through a hideous exterior,” Taureon said, his voice quivering with misery and fury. “He found a love stronger than all the love upon this wretched clay. And it was ripped away from him by the humans whom you cherish so dearly and give such glorious gifts to!” His voice rose in a high crescendo. “This is how they repay you! They murder your son, a god! And they must be punished for it! Every mortal, from east to west, the mountains to the shorelines, must feel your wrath upon them. And I will not rest or find anything beautiful, be it laughter or music, until this is done!”
So Taureon passionately spoke. Tumen stood solemnly, his eyes hard, and replied, “So it shall be as you wish, Taureon. And it shall be as I wish as well. No human will remain unpunished for the death of my son! I shall divide their kingdoms and the flesh of Earthe Maeliz and scatter it across the waters, save for his heart, the Black Abyss. There in that cold realm the people I have created shall wander after I have cut the spans of their lives short, and they will repent for the misdeeds they have done against their gods!”
Then he buried the bodies of Rolf and Mivi on a beautiful hillside, and the gods looked upon it and wept. Taureon visited the spot frequently, playing his guitar in hopes that his departed brother would hear it, and until the bodies were unearthed and carried in a procession to a proper tomb, lilies grew around the grave and, no matter what the season, were always in full blossom.
Brokel, who after the death of his daughter had departed into the throes of madness once more, was the first to die young, two and eighty years, and Tumen’s command was carried out across the land. From then on, people died of disease, famine, and wars due to the formation of the continents, and their spirits lingered within the dark place that was the Black Abyss. Aberfory’s curse was complete, and now he watched the souls around him, growing in numbers, while he laughed in horrid merriment. “Now I have my kingdom,” he said, “and now I will be mightier than my brother and my father! I, Aberfory, God of the Underworld!”
The story does not end here, with the people of Earthe Maeliz damned to misery for eternity. For it was when the number of souls in the Black Abyss grew massive that Aberfory noticed the cries of agony and sorrow from those who had died. Then he saw the procession leading Rolf and Mivi to their tomb, still embracing one another in death. For the first time in several eras, Aberfory felt something different than bitterness, hatred, or vengeance. His heart was heavy with pity. One night, alone in the palace the dead had erected for him, he unwrapped his seeing stone and called to his brother.
“Tumen, Supreme God of Earthe Maeliz! Hear my cry and allow me to see you face to face! I can no longer endure the compassion and remorse I have in my heart. I have not felt more like the old Aberfory than any other day I have been in this kingdom. I repent! Tumen, my brother, answer me!”
Within moments Aberfory found himself in Tumen’s temple, and his brother stood before him, dressed in mourning garb. Aberfory was a horrid sight for Tumen to behold, much different than the golden-haired and ruddy-faced companion he had been with so many years ago. And now, after all the years that Aberfory had cursed and spat at Tumen, he now lay huddled at his feet, kissing his robes and weeping.
“Tumen, most profoundly I confess my wrongdoings,” Aberfory said. “The day I spoke to you harshly I used my hitold I brought the terrible ugliness upon Rolf, your son. I carefully laid out his life and the outcome of it, and the punishment your people would endure for it. I yearned for a kingdom of my own, and my heart, stony as it had been for many years, was filled with venomous joy when my wish was fulfilled.
“But no sooner had the joy come that I saw your son’s face in the procession and heard the mournful cries of your people that the stone in my heart cracked. I have never felt such emotion since the day I cursed you and our dear mother Itlil.” Aberfory then fell into another violent fit of weeping. “Dear brother, forgive me! Forgive me for all the things I have done and remove your terrible punishment upon your people! Then I shall decay in the Black Abyss, as it is what I deserve! Dear Tumen, supreme god, my brother!”
Tumen listened to Aberfory’s words and gazed at him with eyes glittering with wonder. In a voice that was sharp and blunt, he said, “Aberfory, I hear your confession and comprehend it. You have been honest to me, and I am grateful. But what you have inflicted upon my people, Aberfory, is far greater than you imagined. When I cut the lives of my people short and sent them to your realm, I did it so it cannot be removed. It is horrible, but I did it out of anger and grief. My son was murdered, and now I hear it was done by you, my cursed brother, hungry for power that I have given to you in my spite.”
At these words, Aberfory only wept harder. Then the brutality in Tumen’s voice faded, and Aberfory looked up in surprise when he heard the kindness that replaced it. “Do not grovel any longer, Aberfory. Get up and take my hand. Though I cannot remove my curse of death upon my people, I can redeem some of the happiness I once gave them if we can combine your confession and my hitold. You will be forgiven for all of your actions if you can give me a drop of your blood and your confession of all your hateful deeds on the parchment I give you. Then perhaps all can be set right.”
Aberfory eagerly accepted. The drop of blood was stored quickly in a crystal vial, and Aberfory’s confession was long and dramatic after he finished writing it on the parchment Tumen offered. Then Tumen took these objects, blessed them with his magic, and let them rest upon the altars where the ministers preached, and in a few moments the two items slowly vanished into the air. All at once the air seemed to lose its heaviness, and light spilled into the temple, more dazzling than the light of the sun at dawn. Tumen turned to face his brother.
“Aberfory, brother, you expected me to punish you greatly for what you have done,” he said, “but it appears that you have already punished yourself, through your pity and your repentance. But now that you have returned and done what I have asked, look outside and see the design we have both set in motion. Then return to me with what you find!”
Aberfory obeyed quickly, and he was astonished by what he saw. Outside the temple Rolf and Mivi stood, dressed in stunning white garments and holding hands. The only difference was that Rolf was now beautiful beyond words, his fair skin and dark hair shining in the sunlight: his inner beauty displayed for everyone to see. Rolf took his uncle’s hand and kissed it, and the three walked back into the temple to see all of the other gods in assembly: Firrah, Tamka, Pylith, Taureon, and Tumen, all dressed in robes of different colors and adornments. At the sight of Rolf renewed, Firrah and her children rejoiced and embraced him, with Taureon embracing Rolf far longer than rest. When that was done Tumen had Rolf, Mivi, and Aberfory stand in front of him.
“Rolf, I welcome you back to Earthe Maeliz, and my heart is filled with happiness to see your face again,” Tumen declared. “Mivi, I bless you and welcome you as a goddess to our realm. You shall be granted immortality and blessed with Rolf’s love for eternity.”
“I am grateful,” said Mivi. “And perhaps I knew, as Rolf and I floated upon the waters in the gorge, that it was not the end of our story. Therefore, I am grateful.”
“As for the plan I have carried out, thanks to my brother,” Tumen continued, “the blue skies above us have been given a new name, and a kingdom has been built upon the horizon. These are the heavens, and Rolf and Mivi shall be rulers of it. My people may live short and perhaps unhappy lives, but if they are benevolent and fulfilled in their deeds and motives they shall ascend to your heavenly dwelling, where they will live in merriment for eternity. Your son, Taureon, will bring these souls to remain with you, and he will play music for them.”
So Tumen spoke, and at the words Rolf and Mivi were filled with endless gratitude, and they joined the other gods behind the supreme god. Tumen approached Aberfory and placed his hand gently upon his brother’s face.
“When you came to me, Aberfory, you said you deserved to decay in the Black Abyss for what you did and the power that you desired,” he said. “In response, I shall grant you a holy duty you could not have imagined before. Once you were a god of life, creating the world and its inhabitants by my side. Now you will govern my people who are malevolent and must be kept under a watchful eye for the rest of eternity. They shall be punished for their misdeeds in life and look to you as their king. Kashtar, the dragon that once drove our father’s chariot, will be restored from his current weak state to aid you in bringing these souls to the Black Abyss to be punished.
“Rejoice in these words, Aberfory: I have forgiven you. And from what I can feel from the moon’s presence, our mother has forgiven you as well. She blesses you and wishes you return as her son and my brother, a respected god of Earthe Maeliz!”
So declared Tumen, and at once Aberfory felt all weariness and hatred fall from his spirit. His hair turned a rich brown and his face grew full and youthful again, and he embraced his brother, crying, “Tumen! Brother! It has been too long!” Now his heart was filled with the desire to carry out his brother’s orders, and for the rest of eternity he worked happily with the gods to carry out the life cycle that governed all living creatures on Earthe Maeliz.
So it went that the name Earthe Maeliz, many centuries after, was shortened to Earth, a word in the gods’ tongue meaning “rebirth.” And as the aurora fades, the twilight comes, and life moves upon the clay that is our world now and forever more.
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