Fantasy Kids Bedtime

To hear the stories told by old women over the fire, one would believe the world to be inhabited by ghouls and hobgoblins. This is not true. The world is full of magic for sure, but the magic has been here longer than the old women, longer than humankind and longer indeed than memory can express.

In the beginning of time, Allondial was born. Her first breath was a gasp that awakened humankind from the eternal sleep of non-existence. Her smile was gentle as she gazed upon all creation as it woke, and humankind smiled back. Enthralled and enchanted by her beauty, humanity sought ways to draw closer to her, to find comfort in her bosom. For she was the first light, a magical, shimmering luminosity that whispered of possibilities and caressed the soul.

In the shadows cast by her gentle light, poets and artist and musicians were born, their inspiration drawn from the heart of the one who called them into being. She smiled upon them, her gentle radiance guiding their endeavours, and as they shaped their art, the heart of Allondial sang with joy.

Yet, the gaze of Allondial was fickle, her attention fluttering towards distant realms and unexplored horizons. As her face turned away, darkness draped the world, and humanity, left alone, wailed in despair. Shadows deepened, and a profound sorrow, accompanied by weeping and wailing, swept across the land.

Amidst this enveloping darkness, a man named Remu arose, a soul aflame with defiance against the darkness. In his desperation, he cried out to Allondial, hurling rocks into the abyss, pleading for the return of her radiant light.

“Allondial!” he beseeched. “Turn your face to us once more. Bless us with your light, for without your face, we are nothing.”

In the silent darkness, Remu’s voice echoed unheard. Frustration gripped him, and in his anguish, he cast a stone, inadvertently igniting a spark that flickered and vanished, gone before he could even know its name. Undeterred, he continued, desperate to capture this new light, to hold that brightness and study its beauty. It was so incredibly different from anything he had ever known. On and on, casting stone after stone, until one spark, landing on dry grass, birthed a tiny blaze, growing in size and brightness and warmth until a small flame fluttered about Remu’s feet. He laughed and searched for a way to harness this light, to control it and keep it close to him. Grasping a branch from a nearby tree, Remu thrust its leaves into the blaze. The new light consumed the offering ravinously, growing ever brighter.

“I will call you ‘fire’, and you shall be with me always,” Remu announced with pride.

Remu took this new fire back to his people, igniting their curiosity once more with the bright flame. Its warmth lured them from the shadows to bask in the glow and dance by the wavering light. Soon Allondial was merely a memory, and humankind ceased to pine for her gentle face. The heat of the flame ignited a new passion, fueled by wanting and a desire to harness the flame for himself, to bend its light to his own need.

Yet, as the flames multiplied, so did the flames of greed within their hearts. Where once humankind had created harmony, enjoying the fruits of the soul that flourished in the light of Allondial’s gaze, now nothing but envy grew. Each person could measure the brilliance of their own light and compare it with the blaze of another. Want grew within the soul, obliterating need, leaving no room for the beauty of hope. Each person fed their flame, hoping to enlarge it, to brighten their own world and prove their personal superiority.

As the competition grew, so too did the flames, until it was impossible to contain them. The fire, an impish, impudent and impulsive beast, escaped its confines to run rampant. It danced with delight, devouring all in its wake, knowing neither friend nor foe.

And soon humankind learned a new word—fear. The shouts and screams echoed throughout the land, as fire consumed them without discrimination. What was once a source of joy, igniting hope, became a merciless destroyer.

Remu, witnessing the devastation wrought by his own creation, wept for the ruins of his home. Accusations were hurled at him by his own people, fingers pointed in harsh judgment.

“You caused this!” they cried. “You brought this beast to our door, and it has feasted upon our lives. Now it has ruined us!”

Remu, burdened by the weight of guilt, could not deny the truth. His actions had birthed a destructive force that now consumed the very essence of their existence.

Drawn to the light, Allondial returned to witness her progeny engulfed by the flames of chaos.

“Remu!” she cried. “What have you done?” The sound of her voice drew all things to a halt. Every voice was muted, every flame frozen in its place. In the brightness of the fire, Allondial’s face waned, and the radiance was leeched from her skin. Deathly shadows deepened her eyes and carved the groove of her mouth. Her sinister appearance shook Remu to his core, and he threw himself before her in fear.

“Forgive me!” Remu begged.

“You have defiled the land. For that you must die!”

Allondial raised her hand and grasped a flaming branch and thrust it into Remu’s chest. His life blood welled up and flooded the land with its crimson tide as it doused the flames. Slowly, Remu sank into the ground as darkness once more covered the land.

In the silence that followed, Allondial searched for her people, her face once again shimmering with light, but everywhere she looked, she found them sleeping, their bodies overcome with exhaustion. There was no one to admire her, no poet to write and ode to her beauty, no artist to paint her radiant face. No matter what she tried, no one would awaken, and she stood in solitude for an eternity.

Finally, unable to bear the loneliness any longer, Allondial reached into the ground to find Remu, and pulled him from his death.

“Why are they sleeping?” she asked.

Remu glanced about him. “They are tired.”


“They had to work hard to survive the fire.”

“When will they wake?”

“I do not know. When it is time to work again, I suppose.”

Allondial thought about that for a long moment. “They work when your fire is burning, but sleep when my shadow covers them.”

Remu agreed that it did seem to be so.

“Then you will need your flame once more.” She took a branch, and with her gentle light, set a small spark to burn. She handed the flaming branch to Remu. “Take care that you do not set the world on fire his time.”

Remu took the branch and bowed to his lady Allondial. “Will I see you again?”

“I will not be gone for long. We will meet again.”

And so Remu set forth with his branch ablaze, awakening humanity and encouraging them rise and work.

When the day was done and the flames began to escape their confines and set the land ablaze, Allondial returned and once again thrust the burning branch deep into Remu’s chest, quenching the flames. She then wandered the land, calling to lovers and poets, and awakening creativity.

And thus, it is the pattern for all eternity, Allondial and Remu follow one another, meeting only at dusk, to quench the flames of day and again at dawn to light the new day.


“Now, my sweet child, that’s enough for one night. Go to sleep. Allondial is coming, and you don’t want her to catch you trying to burn all the branches. You know what happened to Remu when he wanted more?”

“But mumma, it’s just a story!”

“Is it?”

“Yes, mumma, but there is more? Isn’t there?”

“Child, you must go sleep.”

“Tell me more…”


As Allondial roamed the heavens on her celestial journey, she kept a close eye upon Remu. He was a man given to vanity and self-importance, as most men are.

“I am Remu!” he cried one day. “I am he who brings life and laughter. I am he who brightens your day with light and gives you the gift of prosperity.”

From her position high above all, in the darkness of night, where poets dream and people find rest, Allondial heard the boasting. In the silence of the heavens, she crept closer, all the better to hear Remu make his preposterous claims.

“I am Remu, come worship my flame. Give me the first fruits of your harvest. Send me your first-born daughters. Your bounty is rightfully mine and I claim it, for without me, you wither and die.”

Allondial ignored the posturing and posing, and turned away in disgust. She continued her own journey casting her light on lovers and poets alike.

In the harsh light of day, a daughter was chosen, a sacrifice to appease the mighty Remu. Selected, because she did not sleep—a child who will not sleep, must belong to Remu. The mother cried and dressed her child in the finest garments, weaving a crown of wheat and fruits for her hair. The father stood tall and proud, knowing that his sleepless daughter would bring great honour to his family.

But the daughter, Summa, was not proud. She was afraid and unwilling. Frightened, she fled into the night, her long dark hair streaming behind her. The people cursed as she ran, grasping at her clothes and hair, trying to prevent her escape.

“Allondial!” cried Summa. “Save me, I beseech you. Do not allow them to sacrifice me to sate Remu’s hunger.”

In her distant place, Allondial heard the cry, the single voice appealing to her in the darkness of despair.

“Child,” she said. “Why are you so distraught?”

“I am to be a sacrifice to Remu’s lust for more. Save me, please. You are the only one who can.”

“If I save you, I will need your unwavering devotion from this day forth.”

“My lady,” Summa said as she bowed low. “I am yours, whether you save me or not.”

Impressed by the girl’s faith and dedication, Allondial ascended to the heavens where Remu hung, boasting of his power, light and warmth.

“My people, where is your sacrifice?” he demanded, his hand holding the burning branch aloft shaking with rage.

Allondial gasped, outraged and offended. These people were her people, she gave them light and life, yet here was Remu claiming them as his own.

“She has gone, fled we know not where,” cried the father, as the people bowed and averted their faces away from the radiance of Remu’s anger.

“Find her. I demand you bring her to me at once.”

“Remu,” Allondial called, her voice as soft as the night, yet louder than thunder. “Remu, you forget yourself.”

“I forget nothing. I am Remu, I am he who brings light.”

“I am Allondial. She who brings darkness.”

“Light dispels darkness. My power is greater than yours, my lady.”

Allondial glared at him across the heavens and silently, without once taking her eyes off him, she came closer.

“You do not frighten me, my lady. I am Remu, I am light.”

Allondial said nothing, yet crept closer still.

“There is naught you can do. I am stronger than you in the day.”

Still Allondial spoke not a word, and came closer, her eyes not blinking against the brightness of Remu’s flaming branch. Once she was so close that she could see the hint of fear in his eyes, feel the tremor of trepidation in his limbs, she grasped the burning branch from his hand, and thrust it into his stomach, twisting it just so for maximum pain. Remu’sblood burst forth, a halo of gold igniting the heavens in a painful light. The people averted their eyes, lest they go blind from the radiance.

“You will never be stronger than me!” Allondial hissed, her eyes glowing fierce and white in the sudden darkness. For four minutes she held him there, impaled upon his own branch. For four minutes, she gloated as the light of life withered in his eyes. Then, when she had made her point, she withdrew the burning branch. “Remember your place, Remu. Remember you exist, because I will it so.”

With those parting words, she turned and left him hanging in the sky, shaken and humbled.


“Child, I am serious. It is time for sleeping. It will soon be morning, and you do not want Remu to think that he can claim you for a sacrifice.”

“Allondial will save me.”

“Only if you sleep, child. Now, goodnight.”

April 08, 2024 13:45

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.


Joseph Ellis
10:34 Apr 21, 2024

Cool mythology and very poetic writing Michelle. Casting the moon as a life-giving goddess is an especially interesting inversion for this sort of story.


Michelle Oliver
14:47 Apr 21, 2024

Thanks for reading it.


Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
RJ Holmquist
15:14 Apr 11, 2024

Great rendition of a creation myth. Had me thinking of "The Silmarillion." I love the lofty tone and solemn rhythm. I also liked the interludes where we could see a parent putting the myth to use with a child.


Michelle Oliver
23:07 Apr 11, 2024

Thanks for the feedback. I’m glad the tone worked. To say it reminded you of the great JRR Tolkien is a complement indeed.


Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Alexis Araneta
14:43 Apr 11, 2024

Such poetry, Michelle ! The imagery is absolutely stunning ! Lovely work !


Michelle Oliver
23:09 Apr 11, 2024

Thank you! Glad you liked it


Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Ty Warmbrodt
23:08 Apr 09, 2024

This is a lovely take on the prompt. I wanted to do something similar, but couldn't get the creative gears going in that direction. Really enjoyed this. Thanks for sharing.


Michelle Oliver
23:40 Apr 09, 2024

Thanks for reading. I wrote the beginning for a different prompt, but continued the story here. I hope the two sections flow well.


Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Trudy Jas
13:14 Apr 09, 2024

Remu got his come-uppance. Great story!


Michelle Oliver
13:24 Apr 09, 2024

Thanks. Remu should really know his place.


Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Mary Bendickson
17:39 Apr 08, 2024

A poetic tale of the eclipse. Happy eclipse day!🫥


Michelle Oliver
13:27 Apr 09, 2024

Thanks for reading. We had our full eclipse over here last year. Quite a surreal experience.


Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Isabella Montoya
19:46 Apr 17, 2024

I loved this origin myth. Very well elaborate and also liked how similar it is to Indigenous origin myths that are used to explain phenomenons and teach children lessons. Thanks for sharing!


Michelle Oliver
22:20 Apr 17, 2024

Thank you for reading. I am pleased it had the feeling of an indigenous myth.


Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in the Reedsy Book Editor. 100% free.