Tales of Long Lost Times

2 | The Myth of the Beginning

The myth of the beginning as told by an elven mother to her young daughter one night, somewhere in the Court of Miearm:

There's a beginning to everything, little one-to life and death, to happiness and despair—a fact acknowledged and accepted by us all.

Every wolf will die—we know this, and they likely know it themselves too—so then the mystery becomes; when's the beginning, and this time where's the beginning of death? Does it start as conception? Every wolf is promised with certainty it will fade away no matter its strength or intelligence after all. Does their death see its beginning at the first sign of frail bones or maybe the last time it lays down? In the end it won't matter, not truly for the end will be the same.

The beginning of our world on the other hand, sweet daughter, is a tale worth telling and thinking of. For our world's beginning is already certain, but the continuation and end are not. One day you might change the fate of our world as the gods willed it, but if one wish to change what will be one should always know what have been.

In the beginning there was haunting darkness and terrible, bright light. You and I would've gone blind if we dared look upon it. The worlds were empty of life and ground to stand upon. It was a void of nothingness before finally the first gods were born-one from darkness and another from light. Styn and Morkla; Light and Darkness. The first God and Goddess, the beginning of their lines.

Styn and Morkla then formed the first day and night, sleeping when the other was awake. From there came the dusk and dawn that gave life to Morkla's daughter Imor—Goddess of Moons and Fertility—along with Sivte-son of Styn and God of Suns and Stars.

Imor and Sivte then bore and grew Hólthe and Gilath together-the Goddess of Birth and Motherhood and God of Fertility and Healing-for the first children thought their own children may bring with them the gifts of sound and touch.

Back then there was nothing to touch, no silky-smooth hair or rough tree bark, nothing to smell, no fresh flowers or salty sea breeze, nothing to hear, no rustling trees or happy laughter. And so, Hólthe and Gilath began filling the emptiness with their own children who in turn had children themselves.

Soon, was Ylth—the Main God of Water—born. Then later came his son, Vylh—the God of Ice, Frost and Cold. And before long was Vylh's counter Hehlu created too, the God of Fire, Flames and Heat.

The Gods and Goddesses of death came last for they were only needed once Flend created the first nine realms, and Flener had given life to the first creature of flesh and blood. For gods didn't die back then, they rarely do even now.

We too live long lives that can feel eternal, but you must always remember that if even a god can die then you can too.

Sleep now, little one, for there are many beginnings and ends out there simply awaiting your arrival.