A Gift to Fa and Sa

I have decided to go with the Folklore format. I think my principle inspiration for this came from North American Indian mythology which has the feel for what I’m looking for at this point. And so without further adieu…I will start.

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Pickle was a clever fellow. He looked around at his six brothers and sisters and saw that all good things must come to an end. He didn’t want that, and he couldn’t stop it, then he figured he’d make his time last as long as he possible could. So the first thing he did when he popped into the world was sit down and think.

He thought and thought and an entire Turning took place before he finally decided what to do. The mountains had worn a little, and the Sopensen had shifted. They’d long since left the Green world behind, spreading out into their own little tribes, occasionally fighting amongst themselves. That left the whole world wide open for whatever Pickle intended to do.

So Pickle made people. They weren’t as smart as the Abysmal, or as powerful as the Simsaur, or as evil as the Bleyoki or as good as the Sopensen or as humble as the Middle folk. They just were. They were all different from each other, and they began to build villages and make the world their own.

But Pickle was smart, he was. And he knew that as long as things were interesting, Fa and Sa were going to sit up and take notice. So instead of giving his people some kind of power like the others had, he tried to make things interesting for Sa and Fa. He created two ways of looking at the world, trying to make people important.

To Sa he gave the keys to Destiny. She could see all of the things that all of the people were doing at the same time, and by tweaking things just a little, she could make things happen. Occasionally bits and pieces of what Destiny was supposed to be spilled out so people could se it, and if everything happened the way it was supposed to, amazing things happened.

To Fa he gave the keys to Prophesy. He could mainly watch what people were doing from way up high, but he also had a Focus. That Focus could do whatever it took to make a Prophesy come true, but the thing was, that no one except Fa really knew what that Prophesy meant, which meant that it was entertaining to Fa just to see how people would fall all over themselves trying to figure it out.

Pickle gave them both out at the same time, and boy was he right! Fa and Sa took to the game like nothing else that they had seen before. They started caring about People more than they ever had before. Oh, they’d never been callous, but they had let the world take its course. Now they were trying to shape it, and make things happen. But when Destiny and Prophesy started conflicting, weird things started to happen.

Sa and Fa had a mighty fight, arguing like they never had before. But the fight wasn’t all bad, because it was the first fight they’d ever had, and they realized how much they loved each other. So they made a deal. Sa wielded Destiny during the day, and Fa wielded Prophesy during the night. That way they were both happy. And they loved each other more than ever. And they loved Pickle more than any of his other siblings because of it.

And boy did he make his brothers and sisters jealous! But that is another story.

The Seventh Age

I shall be taking a different approach to outlining this era. This isn't like the Iliad or the Odyssey where I want the feel of mythology or epic poetry, but rather the feel of ancient eras and forgotten lore...more like legend (which might seem arbitrary but it doesn't to me.) The key is recording this in a way that I feel captures the idea of what I'm trying to do, with the rise and fall of empires, and the trickiness of the seventh patron of humans, Pickle.

More details to come.

Battle of the Sixth Age

And the Sixth Age did rise the SåpeSønner
Scions of Såpe.
He saw that which had come before
And made the SåpeSønner to renew the world
Fair creatures
Prismatic Hair
Prismatic Irises
Prismatic Skin
All the colors
All the gifts they possessed
The magic of the Simsaur
The science of the Abysmal
The spirit of the Gods
The patience of the Middle Folk
And the might of Bleyok.
They built their cities
On music and crystal
Light and Air
Glorious and Honorable
They slowly began to rebuild the world
To Cleans it of that which had stained it
But the seeds of evil were deep
Planted, so long ago.
There was a great war
In which the SåpeSønner
Led the remaining races against the scions
of Bleyok
Ravenous they were
And mighty and hairy and disgusting
And smelly
They multiplied like rabbits
But each time the mighty SåpeSønner
threw them down.
For a thousand years
The seeds of Bleyok unleashed upon the earth
Stealing the gifts of the SåpeSønner
And turning them dire
But the SåpeSønner triumphed
And at last the world was cleansed of their evil.
And the SåpeSønner looked to the heavens
And went to the other worlds in mighty ships
That sailed the stars.
Leaving almost all of the SåpeSønner.
And time passed.
And they grew to be an idle race
Caught forever in the past
Demanding honorifics from the other races
That they had so gloriously saved
And at first it was given
But as the years passed, they chafed in annoyance
And the Simsaur, and the Abysmal and the Middle Folk
All retreated and hid from the SåpeSønner.
And the Gods howled on the Desert World
Imprisoned there where they could do no more harm.
And the SåpeSønner began to die off
One by one
Until there were only a few left
There was the occasional renewal
A brief flurry of glory and hope
But by the end of the sixth age
The world was ready for something new.

Darkness of the Fifth Age

And Bleyok came to Power
And the Four before him wept
For in their slumbering power
They saw darkness
And Sa and Fa recalled the echoes of Hil
And very nearly destroyed the world
But their loneliness was great
And their perspective wide
And they knew that this too would pass.

And on the first turning of the fifth age
War plagued the land once again
The beaver folk hid
The Abysmal retreated
The Simsaur were nearly driven to extinction
The gods snuffed out one by one
All life was nearly made extinct
And only when Bleyok
Saw that all his toys
Would go away
Should he slay them all
Did he stay his hand

And on the second turning
He took the free will
Of every living thing
Forcing them into acts
Of dire depravity
Whilst their imprisoned minds
Were forced to watch and live and live again
For six hundred hundred years
The world itself cried out in pain
Until only madness ruled.

And on the third turning
Bleyok saw that his time
Was drawing to an end
And he sneered with fury
And frustration
Leaving darkened seeds
Of evil scattered about the land
Corrupting all he could corrupt
Blighting the sky itself
In his final act of fury
He unleashed an attack
Upon Sa and Fa
Only to be locked in a cage.
Sa and Fa
Has seen this coming
Far in advance.
There would not be another Hil.

The Fourth Age

And Jagan came in the Midst of All Things
And he shaped the Vord
Who built their dams on the third world
And watched
And waited.
They were a peaceful folk.
And whilst there were minor wars
Between the Abysmal
And the Simsaur
There was peace for a time
In large part
And the world settled into a slight routine.
Whilst the Vord watched
And expanded
And lay in the sun.
No great cities did they build
Nor great sciences or magics did they achieve
But they lived well
And they had peace.
But like all such things
It was not to last.
And so to passed the forth age
And it was far too short.
Almost oddly so
As noted by future generations.

The Passing of the Third Age

And High Whithy Fly
Did the Abysmal Go
To the Yellow World
To Die.
They took their walkers
With water inside
And explored it
From head to toe.
And therein the world
Did the Sandstone speak
And say, "You're not welcome here."
But the squids ignored
What was implored
And soon did they all disappear.

And the Third Age began
Enter stage right Slint.
And he found the Yellow world
To his liking.
And he found, like Nowa
That he liked the Green world too.
But he wasn't so happy
About the Blue world.
But he left them alone
Save by twisting their ability
To see the future
So that their devices
Always came with a terrible curse
When they used their gift.
There was now a price.
The Abysmal fell.
One by one.
And Slint watched them fall apart.
He was quite content.
And long and silent was the world.
And the descendants and servants
Of the Sim'saur slowly retook the land.
Dragons and Lizardkin
Ruled the land.
And the Abysmal,
Even in their degraded state
Ruled the Seas.
And the Yellow world was still silent.
And thus passed the third age.

And Slint watched
Indifferent.
He felt no need
To intercede a second time
Until he found
Himself compelled
By Fa and Sa
To make something
Rather than simply destroy.
So Slint made Gods.
Creatures of the desert.
Incredibly capricious and powerful.
The gods demanded rule
And gave favor in return.
Thus was Slint's joke on Fa and Sa.
They didn't seem to get it.
The gods began to aquire worship
Amongst the Abysmal
And the Sim'saur's children.
And the Sim'saur.
And L'cin'bok and Nowa
Were wroth.
But there was nothing
That they could do about it.
And thus passed the third age.

The War of Ages

The magic of the Simsaur
And the science of the Abysmal
Raged for centuries.
Thousands died.
Millions died.
And the world bled.
But eventually the Simsaur were reduced to primitives.
Only a few hiding deep within the mountains
Retained their ancient secrets.
The rest falling ever farther
Into a state of perpetual barbarism.
And the Abysmal were triumphant.
Vast was their empire
Stretching between two worlds.
Their science did not truly progress
For their secret lay in knowing the end
Before the beginning
But they still grew.
Alas, it was only in the secrets of crafting
That they had forsight
For they did not see the height of their folly
As they cast their envious and greedful gaze to the heavens
And toward the Yellow World.