Remember ye the Spark?
The flame which ignites
over thoughts once dark.
Like unto a star eternally bright
Thus was the beginning begot,
And Zauri, the great Scribe wove
Voices from the depths, yet we knew not
the fates which we know and love
In the beginning there was the deepness of thought and it bore no light. Then came the Spark and unto the abyss was ignited a great many stars and the darkness faltered. From the Spark was begot the Weave. Imperturbable, unrelenting and endless it wreathed and looped through the fabric of space and time in a perpetual mesh of intertwining ideas and concepts. Though it bore no semblance of voice or image its passing murmured through the vastness of the cosmos in a timeless melody of tranquil lights and ethereal notes. At times the notes were raised as if in revelry to some legend unseen and at times the lights would shimmer in a graceful traipse to a ballad unheard.
The Weave was alive. A creation of imagination, manifest of all that is told in story and all that is yet to be written in tale. It spun through the very essence of the universe, its song calling out in great longing, ever seeking, ever searching for one who could grasp its telling. The Weave longed to be woven.
Some there were who could reach into the great fabric, masters skilled in the lore of storytelling, prose and rhyme.
They were the Scribes.
Herein lies the tellings of one such Scribe, whom the peoples of Ygar named Zauri.
In the beginning, the Scribe Zauri wove into being the celestial pyramid Armos Penetos and the Five Realms through his crafts of lore and myth. At the very apex of the Penetos, where the light of the stars shine brightest and which is called “Altoth” – the piercing brightness, he crafted into being the realm of Nolvos, the unexplored.
At the centre and below the light of a single bright star, and where it said that the essence of Zauri was strongest, he wove the realm of Aertos, the Earthen Realm.
To the left of this, he wove Kaertos, which the Jaegari call Kirth, a world of contrasts. On one side lay deep rich forests, flowing streams and rivers and on the other great stone mountains, deserts and rock.
To the right of Aertos, he wove the realm of Jaergos, which was called Ygar by those first people who dwelt therein. Jaergos was a land untamed, a world of seas, of many lands and rich with life. Unto Jaergos was the will of Zauri firmly wrought for he saw in his weaving that unto this realm would the fate of the others be bound.
At the base of the Penetos, where a single silver star shone with a cold but beautiful light, was woven the realm of Naeros, uninhabited, a world of ice and great storms, dazzling and yet frighteningly beautiful to behold.
Then, out of his thought he brought into being the Illun, the wardens, wrought of the fabric of the Weave and the light and splendour of the stars.
And Zauri gave those forms unto the likeness of himself, male for some and female for others and clothed them and set them amongst the cosmos and they played and sang in joyous unison. At first the Illun were as children, amazed and awed at the majesty of their maker and all that he had wrought and they marvelled at the beauty and splendour of the five realms.
After a time Zauri spoke to them in council, bidding them go and be as wardens and watchers to the realms and unto each of these did he assign keepers.
Unto Nolvos did he commission the guardianship of Anari – the first born and wisest of the keepers. Silver haired but youthful in face and mind and with keen sight and mighty stature. In Nolvos, under the piercing light of the Altoth was the throne of Anari wrought in an emerald light so that the brightness of the apex shone even more and the Great Pyramid was lit in splendour and majesty. From atop his throne, which is called ‘Darn Anarienne’ did the first of the Wardens rest and reflect on the great Weave.
At his side was his wife Vesa, tall and most graceful of all the Illun but wisest even unto the likeness of Zauri, for she alone could contemplate his mind. And while Anari was the chief warden and hand of the great Scribe, Vesa was his voice and their power in unison was great to behold.
The earthen realm was given the ownership of Auris, who, being conceived from the flowing notes of the Weave, took solace and delight in the seas. Auris dwelt alone and his throne was deep beneath the depths and he was seldom seen, though his flow and presence was felt throughout.
Unto Jaergos was bestowed the guardianship of Nariel, fairest and most radiant. Red-haired and keen, her telling lay in green forests and hills, golden fields and gardens. In all life she would delight and her weaving was rich and warm like unto the sun at the noon-hour and the apple plucked ripe under the shade of a beautiful orchard. Her songs were ballads, great tellings of lovers and romances and of many names, for of all the Illun, she was enamoured in the naming of all things.
Espoused to Nariel was Talyn, whom the people of Jaegar name ‘Talynor the Valiant’ and his weave was wrought of heroism and epic tales. Golden haired was he and of mighty stature, bold and fearless and swift-footed too, for he delighted in pursuit and great chase, returning only to rest in the arms of Nariel.
The lordship of Kaertos was given unto the twins Yva and Ygryn, who wove into their realm great lore and tales of majesty and awe, shorter weavings, oft lyrical and ever musical. Yva, the forest spirit, was born from the highest and sweetest notes of the Weave and her tellings were playful and oft mischievous but in the manner of a child, with whom there is laughter and never any quarrel. Of the Illun, Yva was ever begot to make Zauri smile for her weave was bright and jovial and her nature of jest and play.
Ygryn, the brother of Yva, was of the low notes of the Weave and thus his tellings were often harder and less frivolous than that of his sister. His delight was in stone and caverns, in mountains and deep places and his weaving echoed of the deep chasms of his realm. Oft would Yva beset Ygryn with some jest or sport to which he would laugh and contest her and their tellings would bring much mirth to the rest of the Illun, even unto the emerald throne of Anari and Vesa and even unto the great Scribe himself. Thus, out of love for his sister, did Ygryn employ his skill of stone-craft and carve deep within the hidden forests, a palace wrought of diamond and he gifted it to her. And Yva, in return, gifted unto her brother the song of the Echo, so that he may seek his way back to her from the depths of the dark caves.
Nerien, white haired and beautiful, guarded the realm of Naeros. Her telling was one of cold and isolation and her weaving was of beautiful lamentation and spoke of the snow and ice and of lost souls seeking to find their place in the great Weave. All who heard her song were enthralled but also saddened and yet, in the grief of that telling, was kindled hope and memory even unto the shimmering of the Weave. At times her song would be woven into the chill of the wind and the hearing of that wind spoke of mourning and long lost souls in an eternal tragedy of sorrow and longing. And at times her song was as the fall of raindrops, gentle at first and then faster and like unto a great tumult until the shrill of the wind and the clap of lightning would reach every crevice across all the realms in a majestic storm and then cease and fall into silent dance like the soft caress of the snowflake against the moonlit sky.
And Auris, deep within his trenches would hear the music of Nerien and be enthralled for he loved her and she him, and oft would his song be woven into hers and on the outermost rims of their realms, would the Queen of Ice meet the Master of the Seas and join in unison in a weaving as beautiful and as the sparkling pearls embroiled within frosted coral.
Now, from each of their realms would the Illun weave from the celestial tapestry great legends and epics, stories and tales and in their tellings were birthed a great many histories. Through their lore of weaving were bound the timeless fates, endless over aeons and oft-repeated so that the ballads and sagas were themselves folded into the fabric of the Weave and their constructs soon took form and were given life.
Thus it was that on Nolvos, beneath the Darn Anarienne was wrought the saga of the star-born and woven into the fabric as ‘Narn Astari’ – the children of the Stars. Emerald-eyed, tall and youthful the children of Anari and Vesa bore the same grace and splendour and their voices within the Weave were ever heard foremost from atop the pinnacle of the Penetos.
In Jaergos were birthed many epics for Nariel was a master weaver and her skill in naming was unmatched. Thus it was that ‘Tor Fabuls et Ygari’ – the Fables of the Ygari, ‘Carnien Magi’ – The legends of the Mages and many more legends were written. Some tales that were woven into seasons and would come and go like the falling of the leaves near winter’s approach or the blooming of the bud where spring arose. The ballads of the Culvari and Sylvari, which men now name ‘Culvens and Sylvans’ were untouched in the days of their telling and were wondrous to behold.
Of the weaving of his wife would Talynor the Valiant partake yet he wove no stories of his own, delighting more in the stories themselves than in their telling. Often he would be seen riding upon a mighty steed at the helm of a great epic and into deeds of adventure and great renown, ever laughing and ever eager to partake in tale.
In Kaertos was woven many tales, including the ‘Etaryn Fae-ari’ – the Chronicles of the Faeri by Yva and to the Illun, it seemed a child-like revelry. For in that weaving was born the Yvari, playful sprites and forest fae – though men have named them otherwise in latter days.
Ygran, in turn, wove many a single tale, sweeping epochs which were named ‘Carnien Dvorn’ – the legends of the Dvorn peoples – those that dwelt in the deep of the mountains and of their part in the fates and shaping of the realms.
In Naeros, Nerien, queen of ice, wove many tragedies and the ‘Narn Frijsard’ – the saga of the ice peoples was ever the most told and oft remembered.
It was only on Aertos, where Zauri had forbidden it, that there was no tale wrought nor no legend woven. For the earthen realm was for the dominion of men, whose fates extend even beyond the mind of the great Scribe himself. And men would have their own histories and legends and of their tellings on Aertos the Illun hold no accord.
And though Auris, deep beneath the depths would weave in great merriment the eternal songs of the ocean, he ventured not above the surface, save to clear passage for those who would seek in eagerness to sail upon the endless blue or, at times lay ruin to those who would bestow evil unto it. And unto these laws was Auris bound though he held no grievance for his delight was in song, the ebb and flow of the seas and its myriad life beneath the depths.
For a long time, where the ages of the stars passed from birth to myth and then reborn again, were the Wardens at peace and many great stories wove. Here now lies the tellings of their weavings, herein lie their legends.