Den of the Cyphered Wolf

Monday, April 18, 2011

Seven Ladies Prologue Draft 2

The blight came, not slowly but swiftly. All those with power had left prior to this trouble. All that remained were the heralds, the keepers of the old tales who might have known how to reach them. The heroes and gods had passed from this world many years hence, only known in the legends warriors tell to one another and the bedtime tales mothers tell to sleeping children.

They say prior to the first age, the world was without form. It was unimaginable void filled not, but with her scattered dreams. In the darkness rose a single consciousness and it chose to awaken and to walk. It created not just the world but the concept of form. For the first time there was a stasis. For the first time the world stayed the stayed the same or close enough to it for it to be named, and bound.

For the first time her mind dwelled on not just what she saw, but what she was, and what could be. She walked and wherever she walked the void retreated and form followed. Soon she felt trapped. There was earth, and there was form, but there was no flesh. She wanted to touch and be touched, to scratch behind a furry ear. To wrestle a beast to the ground, and to kiss a man's lips. She had walked alone for eons and it bored her. She pressed a portion her will outward to be left outside of her, and thus life came to the earth.

She continued to walk, and as she walked she for a time met a man. His name is no longer known lost to the ages. He lived and died as all men do, but she loved him. They coupled and thus her children came to be.

For a time it was good. Eight daughters and one son were born to this original goddess. Before the second age they were content. The eight saw their mothers will and coveted it. They each in turn asked her for a portion of the land in which their will could be exercised. The son did not, for unknown to all even him he had been given the gift of time. He dreamt not of what he willed but of what would be.

The land was divided into the nine Kingdoms, mountain, forest, desert, sea, farm, ice, sky, city and grave. Even then the daughters were content, but they had already shown that jealousy was in their nature. Soon war broke out, generations long war.

The war was passed down from father to son and mother to daughter, none knowing why except that it was the gods' will. In the final battle, the battle that ended the second age, the world shook and the first goddess spoke. Anger radiated from her like light from a flame and thunder from a darkened cloud.

Furious at her children she reclaimed her will and made them forget what they were, but the people did not. They were cherished and loved. Soon all but one had taken with someone and had a child. These children became the first monarchs of the land, the first line of our heroes.

At least that is what they say. The things of which I have spoken occurred in antiquity. Times of trouble have since come, gone and returned. The world is not as it was then and never again shall be. In times like this we need, even the memories of our heroes, and that is what to be recorded. These tales will live once more in or hearts and rekindle that which is us.

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