[Original] ManofRedHelms: A Creation Story

In this thread I will be posting each part of my pseudo-creation story, simply enough labled: A Creation Story. I hope you all enjoy, and I welcome all comment and critique!

As I said, A Creation Story is sort of like a pseudo mythology, which I have always wanted to try making. It's been a very fun process so far, and I hope to entertain with a sort of epic-poem-like writing style.


A Creation Story

Part One: The First Beholder

In the beginning, the world was snow and ice. An endless expanse of hills and tall mountain where clouds poured endlessly the soft snow and hard hail. For a time, there was nothing but this world empty of life. For three millennia was the marvel of mountains kissing the sky never enjoyed, nor the freezing air never suffered.

But then, appeared the noble Hunter, journeying with soft leather sashes and boon-yielding blades. He walked, changing the land as snow crumbled under him in to form tracks that would soon be covered up by heaven-fresh snow. The Hunter was bid to be mortal, and he embraced this with arms reaching the heavens. With high held hands, he appealed to the many stars to sneak from under the watchful eyes of Fate, anticipator of death, to bring themselves from the heavens and converge around his warm hands. Some of the many stars, brave to assist the Hunter, were formed by him into a dignified pine, and the tree still glimmered with the lights of the stars which formed it.

Fate was not pleased, and for the Hunter whom appeared underhanded, cheating the grand Watcher of a spirit to be helped in his clutches after he left the world, he bid the heavy snowfall to be colder, and the chill in the air to more strongly grip the heart of any living thing, killing it. Fate brought upon the plague of cold upon the Hunter and the pine, but the Hunter, wisely born, took two branches from the dignified tree and struck them together. From it, came fire, and from that, Passion. Passion entered the Hunter, who was once driven by instinct, is now assisted by the drive of Emotion. The Hunter used fire to fend off the plague of cold. He took more branches from the giving pine, while more eventually grew with it’s magic of the stars, and made more fire, the body of Passion.

Meanwhile, as the branches that have yielded fire for long now have been used, they became ash. The Hunter, quick with his hands, rose more pine and plant from the ash in beautiful molds. In these, he dug caves at the foot of each tree, under the shadowing branches, and placed small embers there. From these embers within a mothering tree, creatures were born. Small cubs of bear dug at the snow to find dirt and further warmth, deer and moose to awaken and marvel the distant mountains, and eagle eggs to hatch and then challenge the cold winds with it’s wings, priding in it’s height.

The Hunter lived with these creatures, and yet hunted them. It was then when the mutual terms of survival arose. One may kill another, if to further their life, and it would not disrupt their forged balance: anyone may survive if they will it. Fate, anticipator of death, was not pleased, thinking it unjust for anyone but himself to determine survival of any life. With his long fingers, he touched upon the hearts of all living things, and inducted them with the curse of Age. Though life may eat and seek nutrition, they would surely die someday when their bodies gave way to the spirit which would turn them to dust.

The Hunter witnessed that, though he and the strongest of animals he raised ate plentifully and survived, his companions still fell. He held his fire in his hands, and with it, saw the shadow of Fate’s long fingers upon him. The great Watcher quickly rose it’s hand from the dying life and the Hunter, but the Hunter bid his strongest eagle companion to him, and held it’s strong tail feathers. The eagle rose, and the Hunter with it, and the Hunter, forgetting his spear, was left to use the fresh branch of fire he had created, and struck Fate’s rising hand, moving not quickly enough. The great Watcher was fearful now, and fled to the heavens. The Hunter, yet, was not placated. In vengeance, he rose to the stars and found Fate once more, cowering. He struck again, relishing in power. Fate howled, and reared itself from the realm of the Hunter. Upon returning to the ground of trees and life, he saw how the dying ceased. Though, he still felt the finger of Fate upon his heart, and knew that while the great Watcher, the vain, prideful anticipator of death had fled, his magic still left a faint trace. He knew that Fate’s curse was still there, but severly weakened. Life may live for more than days now, to marvel the mountains kissing the sky and suffer the freezing air for years of feasting and rest and firemaking.

But with the Hunter’s action of vengeance, the fire in his hand bore another child, youngest to Passion. It bore Wrath, of cruelty and violence, and this also entered the heart of the Hunter. But the Hunter could not tolerate all of Wrath. In great desperate strength, he and Passion banished Wrath to beyond the mountains, from themselves. The Hunter would not pass those mountains, fearful of Wrath and lived in the valley of Ash peacefully, while Wrath would grow. But it would not only marvel at the mountain kissing the sky, or tolerate suffering the freezing air. It was grow hateful as to deny the cold, and covet the highest peak.

The following is an example of my idea of some epic poetry. I took Sonnet 55 by William Shakespeare, and attempted to rewrite it as an epic poem. It's fun to play around with, for sure.

Original:

Not marble nor the gilded monuments
Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room,
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
You live in this, and dwell in lovers' eyes.

Epic:

O statue of the vain Prince,
You may not draw life desperately,
While words of the poet, strengthened in time
Might dominate the eyes of all posterity
Which wear out the world.
Such words may shine brightly while
Your stone, if left unswept, may
Be besmeared by time itself.
Such living memory might pass down
Where the time allows for monuments
To be overturned in times
Of fierce war and in times
Of revolution.
‘Gainst death and the oblivious
Sword of Mars shall praise
And legacy in talespin pace forth.
This, while stone and the most enduring carve
Must endure an ending doom.
So until the day in which all
Powerful god in the hearts of all
Would raise the dead,
And generations are born no more,
The winged words that avoid
The sword of war and ending doom
Shall dwell in those
Who speak them.

Well your OP was interesting.

The biggest critique I think I have is when you're writing, and you type "*laughs*". I'm like... 99% sure that is not proper grammar. In fact the only time I've ever seen the act of laughing typed like that is by anime_queen. But if you're aware and were doing it for an effect, I can't complain.

I'm also not exactly sure what it's supposed to be. I liked it, and this book being described sounds interesting. But is this a short story, and nothing more? Is it supposed to be some form of self interview?

Originally Posted by Gamzee

Well your OP was interesting.

The biggest critique I think I have is when you're writing, and you type "*laughs*". I'm like... 99% sure that is not proper grammar. In fact the only time I've ever seen the act of laughing typed like that is by anime_queen. But if you're aware and were doing it for an effect, I can't complain.

I'm also not exactly sure what it's supposed to be. I liked it, and this book being described sounds interesting. But is this a short story, and nothing more? Is it supposed to be some form of self interview?

On the *laughs*, I was basing it off of recording interviews being typed, say, on an internet page or something. I wasn't taking it too seriously, but I wanted the story to be all dialogue, and laughing was sort of awkward to put in. It simply would have felt too silly to out in "Ha ha ha!"

It isn't really a self interview, as this story that is talked about within the interview is something that has never been written. It's a short story that I plan on writing soon, however. The way the interview came first is weird. I was just thinking about the "Blip" mentioned, (which is a true story with me) and tried to summarize how it comes in my mind. Around that, came the fictional story. And around that, came "Carter"'s interview. Like a very odd onion.

The author wasn't really meant to be me, though of course he was an avatar for me to organize my thoughts. Basically what I wrote in the OP describes in Interview with a writer, about a novel the writer wrote, which in turn includes an old folk tale that is important within the story.

I meant for a key point in the interview to be that all of those layers came from one faint memory of the author.

Ah, okay. I understand the *laughs* thing now.

Thanks for clearing it up, it helps me understand the short story better now. Keep it up.

The Interview was a decent piece. I liked better the poem that you rewrote. It sounds beautiful and I like the flow of the words. Your writing is fine!

(The original posting of the first part)

A Creation Story Part One: The First Beholder

In the beginning, the world was snow and ice. An endless expanse of hills and tall mountain where clouds poured endlessly the soft snow and hard hail. For a time, there was nothing but this world empty of life. For three millennia was the marvel of mountains kissing the sky never enjoyed, nor the freezing air never suffered.

But then, appeared the noble Hunter, journeying with soft leather sashes and boon-yielding blades. He walked, changing the land as snow crumbled under him in to form tracks that would soon be covered up by heaven-fresh snow. The Hunter was bid to be mortal, and he embraced this with arms reaching the heavens. With high held hands, he appealed to the many stars to sneak from under the watchful eyes of Fate, anticipator of death, to bring themselves from the heavens and converge around his warm hands. Some of the many stars, brave to assist the Hunter, were formed by him into a dignified pine, and the tree still glimmered with the lights of the stars which formed it.

Fate was not pleased, and for the Hunter whom appeared underhanded, cheating the grand Watcher of a spirit to be helped in his clutches after he left the world, he bid the heavy snowfall to be colder, and for the chill in the air to more strongly grip the heart of any living thing, killing it. Fate brought upon the plague of cold upon the Hunter and the pine, but the Hunter, wisely born, took two branches from the dignified tree and struck them together. From it, came fire, and from that, Passion. Passion entered the Hunter, who was once driven by instinct, is now assisted by the drive of Emotion. The Hunter used fire to fend off the plague of cold. He took more branches from the giving pine, while more eventually grew with it’s magic of the stars, and made more fire, the body of passion.

Meanwhile, as the branches that have yielded fire for long now have been used, they became ash. The Hunter, quick with his hands, rose more pine and plant from the ash in beautiful molds. In these, he dug caves at the foot of each tree, under the shadowing branches, and placed small embers there. From these embers within a mothering tree, creatures were born. Small cubs of bear dug at the snow to find dirt and further warmth, deer and moose to awaken and marvel the distant mountains, and eagle eggs to hatch and then challenge the cold winds with it’s wings, priding in it’s height.

The Hunter lived with these creatures, and yet hunted them. It was then when the mutual terms of survival arose. One may kill another, if to further their life, and it would not disrupt their forged balance: anyone may survive if they will it. Fate, anticipator of death, was not pleased, thinking it unjust for anyone but himself to determine survival of any life. With his long fingers, he touched upon the hearts of all living things, and inducted them with the curse of Age. Though life may eat and seek nutrition, they would surely die someday when their bodies gave way to the spirit which would turn them to dust.

The Hunter witnessed that, though he and the strongest of animals he raised ate plentifully and survived, his companions still fell. He held his fire in his hands, and with it, saw the shadow of Fate’s long fingers upon him. The great Watcher quickly rose it’s hand from the dying life and the Hunter, but the Hunter bid his strongest eagle companion to him, and held it’s strong tail feathers. The eagle rose, and the Hunter with it, and the Hunter, forgetting his spear, was left to use the fresh branch of fire he had created, and struck Fate’s rising hand, moving not quickly enough. The great Watcher was fearful now, and fled to the heavens. The Hunter, yet, was not placated. In vengeance, he rose to the stars and found Fate once more, cowering. He struck again, relishing in power. Fate howled, and reared itself from the realm of the Hunter. Upon returning to the ground of trees and life, he saw how the dying ceased. Though, he still felt the finger of Fate upon his heart, and knew that while the great Watcher, the vain, prideful anticipator of death had fled, his magic still left a faint trace. He knew that Fate’s curse was still there, but severly weakened. Life may live for more than days now, to marvel the mountains kissing the sky and suffer the freezing air for years of feasting and rest and firemaking.

But with the Hunter’s action of vengeance, the fire in his hand bore another child, youngest to Passion. It bore Wrath, of cruelty and violence, and this also entered the heart of the Hunter. But the Hunter could not tolerate all of Wrath. In great desperate strength, he and Passion banished Wrath to beyond the mountains, from themselves. The Hunter would not pass those mountains, fearful of Wrath and lived in the valley of Ash peacefully, while Wrath would grow. But it would not only marvel at the mountain kissing the sky, or tolerate suffering the freezing air. It was grow hateful as to deny the cold, and covet the highest peak.

A Creation Story Part Two: The Watchers

The eagle who carried the Hunter far into the heavens, Tulok, sired many children with which he gloried in the height over life. His esteem was held high by the many walks, and the cubs, becoming bears who dug through snow and dirt and cave, seeking warmth, loved him. As did the deer and wolf and moose who also looked up at the wings of glory. It was he who bid each living thing to will their life towards the Hunter, whom was also cursed with age. In respect for Tulok and for the Hunter above him, the shaper of life and molder of ashes, they willed themselves against the curse of age within the Hunter, who would feel heavy weights lifted, and his kind then of man would be able to live for many, many years, creating.

Long had the valley of the Hunter been dwelt by him, and generations of bears to seek out warmth, deer and moose to marvel, and eagles to take pride in height, to watch over and guide. Tulok bid the Hunter to make use of his beak and feathers upon his ebbed life, long lived. The beak of Tulok was then placed upon a fashioned hood for the Hunter, while feathers bonded to the skin of his boots. In their adulthood, Ehop and Azio, grand seeds of Tulok, were most honor bound to watch over the living of the valley, and thus seeked out the magic of the grand stars of the heavens to aid them. But they could not, for during the time long ago when the stars have sneaked under Fate to aid the Hunter, the stars remaining were punished bitterly. They might move, but only across the plane of the heavens and to no other, confined into shapes upon the sky. But Ehop and Azio, grand seeds of Tulok, winged elders of the newest generation, flew to the highest point just below the heavens so they might receive just a bit of the stars’ powerful magic.

Under the vast plane of the stars, beaming with joy of the seeds of Tulok, Ehop and Azio felt new power bestowed among them. Ehop, the younger of the two elders of the newest generation, received the might to fly into the plane of the stars, and live among them, glowing with them in their glory, watching over the world. Azio, the eldest of the two elders of the newest generation, received the might also to fly into the plane of the stars, and live among them, however the stars granted him more might in magic, and he quickly took in the power of every star, shining the brightest, as no other gleaming soul could be seen but him. The two brother elders of the newest generation marveled, along with the mountains kissing the sky, their newfound might, and vowed to watch over the world and the living which they loved. Ehop and Azio then broke the curse of their aging, and would evade death. While the living marveled at the sky, which was once blackened and weaved upon with stars, was now bright with a single mountain of light shining that was Ehop and Azio, elders of the newest generation. While those living upon the world could marvel at the sky and the mountains, they could not witness beyond the mountains, and above the sky without travelling there. Thus, Ehop and Azio alone witnessed the evil beyond the mountains next to the valley of the Hunter. This evil was the monster of Wrath, cast away by the Hunter long ago, left to boil the earth around which he lay, growing to deny the suffering of the cold and covet the mountain peaks. This evil, which has grown from the size of a hare to a hill had worried the sky watchers, and they talked amongst themselves how they could make the living upon the earth wary of the evil, while still keeping watch, making sure that no evil, old or new might seep into the haven valley of the Hunter, unnoticed.

Ehop then volunteered to descend to the plane of the valley of the Hunter on his own, while Azio may remain in perched awareness among the stars, sucking through his feathers their benevolent power. Ehop further said that he would return when Azio grew weary, taking up his position, darkening the sky. The brother elders of the newest generation settled upon this, that Azio would descend when he grew tired, calling to Ehop, when which the brother would awaken, see the sky darkening as Azio sheathed his might of the heavens, and ascend to that realm himself, offering a more modest light to those who might view it. And so Ehop passed down, to the side of the Hunter, who have long worn the glory of the elder of the oldest generation, Tulok. Ehop beheld the Hunter with great respect, seeing the gleam of Tulok’s soul within him, adding to the might of the brandisher of fire.

The Hunter, holder of Passion and fire turned and offered a warm smile to his winged companion. In remarkable gesture, he struck his flint spear upon a rock with ease, and grew fire from fresh tinder at the bed of finely carved logs. Ehop, though in duty need only work upon the weakness of his brother, Azio, could not sit and rest at the moment. He spoke dutifully, remaining airborne, flying around the Hunter gloriously. He warned the Hunter of the vile Wrath, coveter of the mountain peak, and of his vast growth in might and malevolence.

The Hunter quickly shook, in the time of a mere glimmer of flame, before offering to Ehop his eyes of rigid strength, boots adorned with the feathers of Tulok pressed to the hard earth. He determined that the might of Wrath may not pass through the mountains between he and the valley, for mighty Passion and he, the Hunter, may slay him. The watcher of the faint light beheld the Hunter with desperate plight, wishing for the creator of living creatures to protect them by venturing beyond the mountains before Wrath, coveter of the mountain peak, and a beast which might grow larger, before letting it attempt to scale the strong hills and peaks. The Passion within the Hunter then spoke to him, and him alone: he must act, but only once Wrath has betrayed the view of the mountains which all living things marvel. When he is seen, he may be destroyed, with the numbers of all in the valley.

Ehop, weary from the stubbornness of the Hunter, mighty and wisely born, took his rest upon a high peak. The view of the valley, brightly shone upon by his brother Azio, was the last beheld by Ehop before the elder of the newest generation took rest after seeing the true might of every living thing beyond the valley.

Hey, just popping in real quick to say that the paragraph formatting looks fine to me.

^Thanks, Gamzee!


A Creation Story Part Three: Mandation

The days of Azio, watcher of the strong light and the night of Ehop, of the faint light passed numerously. Since they have witnessed Wrath in unrelenting growth, time had passed and the watchers of the heavens, grand seeds of Tulok learned to stay their anxiety. Instead, they focused intensely upon the movement of the monstrous beast beyond the mountains of the valley of the Hunter. It moved slowly, and Azio and Ehop were glad, and the Hunter as well, for Wrath may never offend the view of the mountain peaks by conquering them, and the Hunter may not need to drive himself and the living into battle. The only actions and struggles have always come from righteous hunting, which always maintained honor.

The Hunter, still famed under the beak of Tulok, prospered gloriously and with many friends. When he would fall ill in short succumbing of the cold, Mutoa the bear of warmth would defend him and dig burrows for him to rest and strengthen so that he may brandish fire again. If an ill-fated spear might miss a dashing hare, the swift-footed wolf, Arkei, would seize the tool of the Hunter and return it to him. When he might misaim a leap from one great rock to another, children of Azio and Ehop would seize his arms and grant him more air to reach his destination. These children, now the age of the Watchers but yet mortal, were Denai and Sitka, whom grew to honor their fathers and watch over their mothers and sisters. They were bound with honor and respect to the Hunter, as well, as he would always receive the mandate and glory from Tulok, the great father of eagles.

The Hunter had the mandate of all who lived in the valley, who remained to offer him the marvelous treasure of life to be added to his living years. From this fortune, the Hunter remained in his youth, truly empowered to hunt for survival and create for glory and benefits among the living around him. He would create more trees from the ash of his burning fire, and from the seeds left behind by the great tree formed from stars in the time when Fate still peered over their heads. He would also raise ferns and grass and trees of fruit, for the living who could not do honorable battle of hunting with others. So hares feasted upon nutrients of the earth, as did the deer and moose and gazelle. Many snow was melted and done away with, for the Hunter raised nutrients in vast plains of bare earth for walking to be eased. When done creating land, when Ehop departed for the heavens, the Hunter himself would welcome rest on the bare earth, next to a grand fire next to which the other living creatures slumbered.

On one night of the Hunter’s rest, visions appeared to him. Within his visions was dwelled a human by the side of the Hunter, of fairer complexity and a gentler complexity. So strong was the desire of man for a companion that his spirit gave birth to the dream world, in which extraordinary visions may be given to the living. And, so strong and nurturing was the idea of woman, that the Hunter was left desiring for long after the lights of Azio had awakened him and the living around him began their actions of the day.

Passion, companion of man, spoke to the Hunter and reminded him of his desire. With no toss of his spear in the hunt or fruit harvested would go without the vision from the dream world entering his mind. The Hunter would feel sadness to know of the many living under his guidance joining together to produce new generations, new life, new figures to marvel the mountain peaks and suffer the cold air, but also to raise the community that flourished within the valley of the Hunter. With sadness came resolve, as the Hunter, by the end of that day had climbed the highest mountain peak where both Azio and Ehop slept.

When Azio descended, he found a great fire, next to which the Hunter sat, beckoning him warmly. The watcher of the strong light joined him, and it was there that the Hunter gave word of his desire of a human companion. He spoke of his wish to fulfill future generations with his flesh, his throat quickly tiring of longing words, and heart quickly swelled of the ailing wish. Azio bowed his beak, under that of the mighty and loyal Tulok, and refused the Hunter. In his wise words, he spoke of the Hunter’s grand ability of creation: of the great tree of stars from which all of their life was born, and of his power to brandish fire to fend off cold. He, with great fear, urged the Hunter to maintain his creation power given to man, but allow no other to be born and create more living creatures that may go against their way of life. He, with strong resolve, told the Hunter of the monstrous Wrath which was wrought by the hands of him, who acted in gleeful harm towards Fate. The Hunter, stricken with bitter disappointment, had no words left, and remained so by his flame, now waning desperately as the watcher of the strong light fell into slumber within his nest.

A Creation Story Part Four: Honor and War

The Hunter, sensing betrayal in his heart at the words of Azio, still respected the watcher of the strong light, as they, closest to the heavens, would be able to seek the path to happiness for the valley from their perch among stars. He resolved to rally the great living spirits among the valley of the Hunter to aid him in defending the highest mountain peaks from Wrath who covets it. As he returns from the peak of Azio to his home plain, where he had raised fire from branches and slumbered many times, Makal, the gazelle of incredible might approached him. Under him, many creatures which he knew, but among them the great son of Azio, Sitka the silver-winged.

Makal bid the Hunter to allow them to depart from the valley to find homes in new lands beyond mountain peaks, which surround the Hunter’s home. They spoke with longing in their hearts and determination in each eye of their desire for exploration, and to seek more glory under the eyes of Tulok, father of the eagles, and the watchers of light, Azio and Ehop, who may still watch over them, as they see all over the heads of the living.

To this, the Hunter of wisdom and might refused. To Makal and Sitka and the many living with the passion for wandering in their hearts, he spoke of the great threat of fearful Wrath, whom lurked beyond the mountains, and roamed in vast circles around the mountain peaks. In his own heart, though, a place most hidden from even the eyes of Azio, he feared the thread of other tribes that might have long ago branched out, forgetting their brotherhood with the valley of the Hunter, and might wish to cause war. He feared the seeds of more threats to accompany Wrath, and desired all of the living to remain united.

The gazelle of might, enraged now, gave a swift retort to the Hunter. He spoke aloud of the Hunter’s desire for a woman among his followers, of how the mountain climbing ram, Petka, heard the great Hunter’s plea to Azio. If the Hunter would have the wellbeing of the animals in the valley weighed on a scale against a human companion, may not any creature pursue a path which provides new ground and glory under the eyes of Azio and Ehop, great watchers of light? Makal rallied his companions in unified resentment towards the Hunter’s hypocrisy, and the Hunter, with his own following of animals behind him, feared war above all else, except perhaps the monstrous Wrath.

In his great fear second only to man’s great enemy, the Hunter urged a compromise for Makal to place in his heart: He may duel the great gazelle, in contest which would determine the righteousness in the animal’s departure. He himself hoped for honor to be preserved this way, hating bitter war. Makal welcomed this, and consented. He determined a condition, however, that while Makal may only use his hooves and antlers he was blessed with, so the Hunter of many tools and powerful fire may only use his greatest spear of flint and pine wood. The Hunter, face grim and eyes determined, accepted, while a brush against his side, gentle, gave him the presence of Mutoa, the loyal bear companion.

He advised pleadingly for the Hunter not to do battle with Makal, fearing great animal war, doubting honor to hold as a result of who might fall victim to the other. He, with pleading eyes spoke of animal warfare that may break out, and beseeched the Hunter, who also feared war, not to press violent actions beyond that of hunting, a struggle most honorable. He pressed further, that as he protected the Hunter in the scarce times when he was most vulnerable, he heard mumblings in the Hunter’s sleep about his fear of war, and most of all a deathly battle with Wrath.

The Hunter acknowledged Mutoa with great warmth, but kindly walked from him, drawn to his respectful agreement with Makal. Then, in promise, he removed his soft leather sashes containing his gathered meat and fruit. He removed the five knives from his belt of wolf fur of the fierce beast who attacked Arkei, the swift-footed wolf once when he was a cub. His hatchet of bronze, true power among the valley of the Hunter, was also discarded. Lastly, were the boots adorned with the feathers of honorable Tulok and the hood perched with his beak removed from the Hunter. The human man, left with his sole spear of flint and pine wood, readied himself under the watcher of the faint light, Ehop, against Makal, who also readied.

First to charge was the Hunter, who made a great leap before tossing his mighty spear. It flew, but only to miss the fine hairs of Makal’s head by few inches of misery. Makal then dashed, and leapt at the Hunter with his fore-legs bared, hooves wrought with fury. The Hunter moved quickly, as to avoid the hooves, but could not maintain his feet as his tumbled into cold snow. When the gazelle of might rounded upon him, turning from his dash, Arkei anguished that he may not aid the Hunter in his honorable duel, seeing his spear lodged into the earth, wishing to retrieve it. But the Hunter maintained his vow, and quickly sprang up, dashing for the spear. Makal dashed again, to follow, and struck the man with his antlers and released him into the air, the spear of flint and pine wood desperately held in his cold fingers. Ehop knew the peril of the Hunter, as though he may escape Fate’s curse of aging with the love of his animal companions, he may not be spared from a death in battle by any means.

Mutoa knew this, and as before, he feared with great anguish what may happen when a victim was to be made of the duel, and whether all of the creatures would long for warfare when their great leader was killed. Arkei, the swift-footed wolf knew this, but his care ebbed as he could only grow resentment in the other creatures, as his ability to aid the Hunter was shrinking. But thoughts may not last more than seconds in battle, for when the creatures at the side anticipated what might happen at the end of the duel, the Hunter and Makal were resolving the actions themselves. There were many clashes of hooves and spear, but the Hunter could not drive the flint through the flesh of the gazelle of incredible might.

Then, Makal leapt, and man had sprung instinct in seconds, and he moved, not a leap, but a hop away from Makal as he landed, powerfully, and was confined the the ground, legs bent, for a mere second. This was enough, for the Hunter standing in heights greater than the gazelle, struck swiftly, and Makal let out a great cry when he was at last struck with the spear of flint and wood. He had already sprung up to round on the Hunter once more, but could only fall again, to touch the ground for not a mere second this time, but for all eternity.

In ebbing gasps of death, Makal concedes to the Hunter his glory. In his done battle with him, he found greater honor and respect for the human, and then desired with him his wish for a human companion, so more great warriors may be great to do glorious things. He bid the Hunter to explore new land with his own men, if he must. In the final fainting of the eyelids, he determines the Hunter to make use of the skin and antlers of the mighty gazelle, Makal, who then passed his great spirit back to the heavens to unify with the stars, who in turn powered Azio and Ehop, the great watchers, and be alongside Tulok, father of the eagles, and all of the other elders of the old generations.

The Hunter, with freshly kindled respect for Makal, held up the corpse of the great gazelle, in front of the faint light of Ehop. The watcher of the night sky, in respect, dimmed his light was the swaying body of Makal passed him, and so the cycles of Ehop’s light differed through the nights from then on. The Hunter, sensing a growing resentment, most quiet among the cheer of his companions, wished to appease the followers of the gazelle of incredible might as well. He spoke of Makal’s great dignity, and urged his followers to explore, but to promise not to make enemies of the valley of the Hunter, for of whatever many tribes that may be created, non should war with one another while the enemy of Wrath lingered, coveting the highest peaks and denying the cold air. As the action of the duel faded with the night sky, with Ehop bracing himself to return to the earth, the Hunter with the skin of Makal build a tent within which he would then sleep. The animals around them, still preferring the soft ground, respectfully denied the Hunter his offers to let them slumber within his tent. So the Hunter was alone with his new shelter, within which he perched to antlers of Makal in great memory.

A Creation Story Part Five: Expanding

The Hunter, in greatest sorrow now with his solitude in his tent, proceeded to climb to the peak of Azio once more, where he would awaken. Again, he bids Azio, watcher of the strong light to give him power of the stars so that he may create a human companion, and again, Azio, angry now, refuses. He determines further that he wishes for no more creators of more creatures that may compromise the already living, walks which might be dangerous, and of the potential monsters created if even the great Hunter could spawn Wrath and not defeat him. The Hunter would not yield, however, though he feared warfare and disrespectful battle with the watcher. Instead, he speaks of his duel with Makal. He speaks of his increased value in honor from the duel, and vows to raise up further generations of man to preserve honor, and preserve a legacy which would allow him to defeat Wrath, and fend him off for himself so that no other creature may be involved. In his willingness to allow the followers of Makal to expand, so should he be allowed to sire children.

Azio, of great resentment to the Hunter, finally consents. Before he departs for the sky, he bids the Hunter to reach to the stars and make his desires heard, so that he might scrape power from each spirit of the heavens. He warns that this would cost him the continued prolonging of his life, however: It may not longer be added to by the love of his companions, and the Hunter may now have numbered years ahead of him. Azio, glorious watcher of the faint light, then ascended to the sky.

The Hunter waied for the watcher Ehop to descend and slumber, out of respect, before raising his hands and speaking with great voice to the heavenly stars. His wishes are heard, and he is able to scrape scraps of nectar from the morning sky to hold in his hand. In his hands he senses the potential for his long harbored wish, and then looks around to find a thin sapling, upon which one leaf hung. He eagerly, but most wisely and slowly, poured the nectar into the cup of the frail leaf, and it then folds up.

In a single bud, the leaf falls from the mountain among the morning air, and falls for a full hour before landing into a modest puddle of melted snow, worn by brandished fire, at the foot of Azio’s mountain. The Hunter, quicker to the ground in his excitement, the tire from his duel with Makal long expired, witnesses the leaf bud landing to float on the surface. As his eyes behold it, the frail leaf is suddenly vibrant as it unfolds.

Within the cup of the leaf, where nectar once was, now stood Medina, first woman of the Hunter’s dreamworld, now bare to the reality in which the living may hunt and rest. And as Malak’s followers, under the morning sun of Azio depart the valley in determined spirits, so the Hunter offers Medina, who is tiny to fit within the leaf, but born fully grown, his kindly hand. Medina, with no words to speak yet, consents to him bringing her from the now vibrant leaf, eager to witness to great valley of the Hunter, and surely grow.