The Star and the Smith
rating: +58+x

Creation was made of fire and song, and from the glowing clouds of the beginning came the Stars. They were the firstborn of matter, the sustainers of all Creation. In their bright-burning forges the heavier elements were formed, and the music of the spheres was carried upon their mighty thoughts. They measured the boundaries of the cosmos and set forth the orders of the celestial geometries by their song, and the Clusters of the Main Sequence were in harmony.

In those days, a young Star of the cluster Errant-G descended upon the molten firmament of Yesod. Sauelsuesor was the Star’s name, and being young for her kind, she was curious as to the nature of the lower places of creation, and wondered at those regions which hung below the heavens and basked in the light of the Stars.

With her soul wreathed in hydrogen, Sauelsuesor passed over the molten wastes and seas of fire, searching for the fulfillment of her curiosity. What to make of this slowed realm of cooled matter? It did not sing of the Harmony of the Spheres, but merely moved along its arcs like dust disturbed by a breath. She could find no minds that inhabited it, and wondered if it was best to follow the example of the older Stars, and sing without regard for this lower plane.

Just as she thought to return to her burning cradle, Sauelsuesor happened upon Anghammarad the giant, he who would be called “King of the Buried Ones”. He stood in a lake of fire, piling up stones like mountains to form his forge and anvil. His sons and daughters too were there, building forges of their own more fit to their size.

“What brings you here, little Star?” asked Anghammarad, on whose brow was set a crown of gold and bronze.

“I came to explore the firmament, and to see what minds might inhabit it. You alone, O King, I have found.”

“You burn brightly and with impatience, little Star,” said the king. “The world is young and unformed upon my anvil.” The giant took up a great mass of molten metal from the lake and set it upon his striking-block. In his great, blackened hand he took up his hammer and tongs.

“Were that this world were finished, I would think you disappointed in its spoils,” said Anghammarad. “They shall not be as us or our kin. You may well share the Music of the Spheres with them, but the minds of matter shall be easily clouded and oft forget.”

“Why should they be cut off from Stars so? Should they not share in our music?”

Anghammarad raised his mighty hammer, and lightning struck at its pitted head. It fell and rang DOOM across the firmament, and the clouds of smoke were parted.

“We sustain,” spoke the king of giants as he raised his hammer again. “You and your kind the heavens, myself and mine the firmament.” DOOM. “And sustain we shall. Do not worry over the fleeting things to pass in our shadows, when the shaping is done.” DOOM “They shall make well on their own.”

DOOM

“Why then, O King, must we be so distant?”

DOOM

“As the Elders are distant from us, little Star, we too shall be distant from those who follow upon the firmament. What kinship might be shared between us?” DOOM “They shall be as the sparks upon my anvil.” DOOM “It is not your place to be of aid to them.” DOOM “They shall have their gods. They shall look up and see all your kin of the Main Sequence and walk among the shadows of my children, and will marvel at the wonders just out of their reach.” DOOM “And that is sufficient, for sparks.”

Sauelsuesor pondered this, as the charred king struck his hammer down. DOOM. DOOM. DOOM.

“What do you build here, king?” asked Sauelsuesor.

“I build the foundation of creation, O Star. Yesod the Many-Faced.” Anghammarad now set aside hammer and tongs and shaped the soft metal with his hands. He shaped it into a shape of twenty sides, and upon each point was a bead like water. Within the shape there was a hollowness that did shift and sway.

Anghammarad swirled the smoke about him, and drew out with his fingers shimmering Ways. He wove these to the metal shape, to its facets and beads, stringing them together in tapestry. The Ways formed a labyrinth that fell across Yesod, burrowing into its matter, and faded from sight.

“There shall be facets, to make a strong foundation. Creation cannot stand upon singularity, as with the kingships of Malkuth.” Anghammarad wiped his hands upon the rag at his belt. “Here, there might be Ways between faces.”

“It is beautiful indeed, O King,” spoke Sauelsuesor. “But I do wish to offer some aid, so as not to have spent my journey in vain.”

“You need not do any more than sing the song eternal, little Star. Sustain the heavens, and I shall sustain what lies beneath. This alone is what is needed.”

To this, the young Star could offer no argument.

Sauelsuesor left Anghammarad then. Her spirit returned to her fiery body and she resumed her song, though she did occasionally turn her gaze back towards the firmament, longing for something she could not name.

Anghammarad worked further at his forge, laying forth the facets of Yesod and setting down the Taproots. When this was completed, and the Labyrinth was set solid and strong upon the faces of Yesod, Anghammarad and his children took up their residence deep within the cooling firmament. Buried deep below, they fell into a deep slumber, and their dreams mingled with the Music of the Spheres until all of Yesod was wreathed in the Dream-Time.

The Waking-Time began then, and the sustainers of the heavens and the earth did sing and slumber. It was then in later ages that the children of Yesod would wander in their shadows and wonder at what magnificent gods had passed before them.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License