0 comments
...Mesiod was bored. He needed excitement in his life. He’d tinkered with this idea. He fiddled around with that idea. Sometimes they worked (for a short while, anyway), but most times they ended in complete disaster. Yet, Mesiod wasn’t going to give up hope. Not just yet. And then, an idea of utter brilliance popped into his head. He rubbed his celestial hands together and then crafted the Élderversium (the Universe). Still, there was something still missing. Actually, a few things were missing.
“I know exactly what I need to do!” Mesiod proclaimed. He cut his finger deeply, and blood spilled plentifully from his wound, spreading quickly across the Élderversium. This is how Hoestor (the Constellations) came to be.
“There is something else…” Mesiod pondered. “Yes, of course! How moronic of me!”
Mesiod gouged out one of his eyes (it grew back eventually) and cast it to Hoestor. This is how Elíoss (the Sun) was forged.
“It’s all coming together rather nicely!” Mesiod excitedly reached into his mouth and tore out a tooth. He thrust it amongst Hoestor and Elíoss. Out of the chaos that ensued, Laeda (the Moon) was created.
“This is good! This is my best work to date!” Mesiod rubbed his hands together wildly. Yet, he still felt something was missing. There was… someone, not something, missing from his masterpiece. Someone he could truly share his work with.
Mesiod reached deep inside himself and tore several pieces from his heart. He scattered them among the Élderversium. The pieces of his heart settled far and wide. Elíoss, intrigued, shone his majesty on the pieces of heart. Laeda, also a little intrigued, ran her fingers over the sharp edges. She made them smooth and round. Hoestor gathered up the smooth pieces of Mesiod’s heart and cradled them. Nourished and nurtured them.
“Here you go, father.” Hoestor handed Mesiod what had formed from the pieces of his heart.
“It’s beautiful, Hoestor! Isn’t it just?!” Mesiod brimmed with pride.
Laeda and Elíoss gathered around Mesiod and his bundle of joy.
“What is it exactly?” Laeda cautiously eyed the new creation.
“It’s… a man,” Mesiod said, quite unsure of the name of his new creation. “Yes, that’s exactly what it is. A man!”
“And what is a man exactly?” Elíoss asked his father.
“A man is a… hu—man. That’s what he is. A beautiful human being!”
“This human thingy doesn’t look very beautiful,” Elíoss added. “It’s all small, wrinkly, and podgy.”
“Why do you have to be so grumpy, Elíoss?” Mesiod asked. “You’re meant to be happy and cheery. And it’s not an It. It’s a He.” Mesiod picked up the new creation. “And He’s called… Parion…”
…For many eons, Mesiod and Parion traveled the Èlderversium together. Mesiod created galaxies and planets to entertain his human son. Parion was wide-eyed with wonder at his father's creations. However, after the hundred-thousandth galaxy and the countless nameless planets had been created, Parion became bored. He desired excitement and craved purpose beyond traveling the Èlderversium with his father. As Mesiod was putting the final touches on another wondrous planetary creation, Parion approached him to share what had been weighing on his mind.
“What do you make of this little beauty?!” Mesiod exclaimed with joy to his son.
“As always, father, it’s beautiful,” Parion replied.
“You could sound more enthusiastic, my boy,” Mesiod replied, wounded by his son's tepid response.
“There’s something I want to ask you, father.” Parion paused nervously.
“Go on, I won’t bite,” Mesiod teased.
“I would like... I would like to build something for myself... with people like myself.”
Mesiod eyed his son suspiciously. “But you’re unique, Parion. One of a kind.”
“Okay, not exactly like me. But similar... I could... I could be their... be their...”
“God?” Mesiod crossed his arms. It was the first time he felt threatened by his son’s ambitions.
“I suppose so, Father. Yes.”
“Well... we could rule it together, you know. Two Gods could be better than one,” Mesiod argued.
“I think it’s time I paved my own path, Father. I don’t want to live in your shadow anymore.”
Mesiod felt a pang of despair. He wanted to cry. He wanted to rip off his son’s limbs and eat them. He wanted to destroy everything and anything that he had created with his human son. Mesiod was starting to wish that he had never created the Èlderversium, Hoestor, Elíoss, or Laeda. He should have left things as they were. He should have remained bored and alone.
“I will still need your guidance in my endeavours,” Parion said. “This isn’t the end of our relationship. It’s the beginning of something new. Will you still guide me?”
“Yes, I suppose I can,” Mesiod sulked. “If I’m not too much of a burden to you, that is.”
“You will never be a burden to me, father.”
“Uh-uh,” Mesiod pondered. “On that note, there’s something I must attend to. An urgent matter, in fact.”
“Would you like me to accompany you?”
“No, no,” Mesiod stammered. “I’m perfectly capable of attending to this... issue... a very important issue, I must stress, by myself.”
“If you insist, father.”
“I do, yes. I certainly do.” Mesiod began to make a swift exit. “You go and create your fellow kind and a place to call home. Craft in peace, my boy.” With that, Mesiod was gone, and he never returned to the Èlderversium. He never saw what wondrous place or creations Parion crafted. Mesiod never set eyes upon Hoestor, Elíoss, or Laeda…
…It took several attempts for Parion to create a place for his fellow humankind to thrive and live. He named this paradise, with its multitude of landscapes and four changing seasons, Eonid (Earth).
“Father would be proud if he could see this,” Parion remarked with deep sadness. “Maybe one day he will. He will return and bless my humankind with his blissful love.”
Once Eonid was stable and a fully functioning being in itself, Parion crafted humankind of all ethnicities to populate the lands of Eonid. For eons, his humankind lived in harmony with one another. Then, things began to falter. Some tribes of humankind discovered fire, then greed, lust, and jealousy. The seasons began to falter too, and the weather became irritable and irrational.
“What have I done?” Parion muttered in despair as he watched his humankind kill and maim each other and rape the land. “I thought I made humankind and Eonid perfect. What did I miss? What should I have done?” Parion knew who would know the answer to his mistake: his father. He needed to find him, and he had an idea who could help him.
“I don’t know where father is,” Laeda informed Parion dryly. “But I feel he would like to keep it that way.”
“Our sister speaks the truth,” Elíoss concurred. “Wherever father is, I think he wants to be left alone.”
“I need his help,” Parion urged. “I’ve made a terrible mistake with my humankind and Eonid.”
“So, we’ve seen,” Laeda snarked. “It’s getting quite tense down there.”
“They're an angry lot you’ve created, brother,” Elíoss added. “Can’t they just break bread, drink wine, and play nicely? I do bathe most of them in my golden light.”
“And they give thanks for that, brother,” Parion snapped.
“Another sacrifice or two wouldn’t go amiss. I feel unloved at only one a year.”
“At least you get a sacrifice,” Laeda hissed. “I only get offerings of fruit and barley.”
Parion was losing patience with his brother and sister as they moaned about what his humankind offered them. He needed help in restoring the peace and goodness that had once reigned in Eonid.
“Calm down, brother,” Laeda teased Parion mercilessly. “You look like you’re going to cry. Surely this humankind isn’t worth your golden tears? Why don’t you just make another Eonid and create some other playthings that adore the ground you walk upon? It’s so very easy, you know.”
“Our sister speaks the truth, Parion,” Elíoss added. “I don’t mind helping out. We both will, won't we, Laeda?”
“We will,” she said reluctantly.
Parion was defiant. He didn’t want to make another Eonid. He didn’t want to make another humankind. He wanted to mend and save what he had already created. “No, I don’t want to create anything else. This is my masterpiece. Help me restore my work to its former glory.”
Laeda and Elíoss contemplated Parion’s words. They then left Parion briefly as they conversed with one another.
“We have an idea,” Elíoss informed Parion when he and Laeda returned. “It regards something father told us both before he left…”
“He came to see you both before he left?” Parion said, shocked. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“You didn’t ask,” Laeda said. “Therefore, we didn’t tell. But father did inform Elíoss and me of something we could potentially do to help you in your plight. I think he foresaw these issues that now plague you.”
“He foresaw it?” Parion replied slowly.
“Father saw a lot,” Elíoss said. “He just didn’t like to share all of his knowledge with us. But the one piece of knowledge he shared with us was something called the Ducién (an Eclipse). He said we can use the Ducién to help in matters regarding your playthings.”
“Humankind, brother,” Parion corrected irritably. “They are not playthings. And what is this Ducién you speak of?”
“When Laeda and I come to be one for a short period of time,” Elíoss explained, “Our unified beings will cleanse the souls and minds of your humankind. A balance of peace and tranquility will be brought to Eonid.”
Parion was filled with joy at the prospect of the goodness of humankind being restored. He was also a little aggrieved that Mesiod hadn’t shared the knowledge of the Ducién with him. “Can you perform the Ducién for me?”
“We can,” Laeda said. “And we will watch over you and your humankind from now on. If we feel that their souls and minds need to be cleansed, we will perform the Ducién, whether it be night or day. Do you agree to this?”
“I do,” Parion said.
“Then go,” Elíoss proclaimed. “Be a god among your people. Tell them of what has happened here.”
“They will offer thanks and offerings,” Parion said.
“More than fruit and barley,” Laeda chided.
“That too, sister,” Parion smiled. “I also give thanks…”
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
0 comments