Long ago, in a land of great mountains and rich forests, lived a young god. He was his parent's only child, and well beloved. He was gifted with a handsome face and strength of heart and muscle. He was destined to rule one day, as his father before him, and so he was reared to be the god-king, cool in judgement, swift in action.
There was peace in this world, since gods had walked there. Beauty, music and are, stories and dance were everywhere. For as long as memory--and a god's memory is infinite--there had been harmony and balance in this place.
From behind the Curtain of Power, through the veil of the Curtain of Dreams, they would look upon the world of mortals. Lesser gods were permitted to mix and mate with those of the mortal realm at their whim, and so became the faeries and sprites, the sylphs and other creatures of magik. Some found the mortal world more to their tastesand peopled it. Some, of course, were corrupted by the powers, by the world of mortals, and turned to darker ways. Such is the way of nature, even of gods.
As was the tradition, upon reaching his majority the young god was sent beyond the Curtain for one week, to walk among the mortals, to learn their ways, to study their weaknesses and strengths, their virtues and flaws. It happened that he saw a young woman, a maid of great beauty and virtue. And seeing, loved, and loving, wanted. And though she was denied to him by the rules of his world, he pined for her. He grew listless, restless, unhappy. He would not eat or drink, nor did he find any appeal in all the young goddesses offered to him. His parents, disturbed at seeing their son so distressed, weakened. They would not give their son to the mortal world, but they brought the maid to theirs.
The mortal maid chose, and loved, and gave up her world for his. There was anger in the world of gods, of mortals, and in that mystical half-world of the faeries. No mortal was to pass through the Curtain. Yet that most essential rule was now broken. A mortal woman had been taken from her world and into theirs, married to and bedded by their future king for no reason more important than love.
Some would say nothing, others would say honor, truth, loyalty. Others did, and for the first time in the memory of the gods, there was dissension, rebellion. The balance was shaken. The young god-king, crowned now, was strong and withstood this. And the mortal maid was beautiful and true. Some were swayed to accept her, and others plotted in secret.
Battles fought in the open could be quelled, but others were devised in secret chambers, and these ate at the foundation of the world.
It came to pass that the god-king's wife bore three children, the daughtes, demigoddesses with mortal souls. On their birth, their father gifted each with a jeweled amulet, for protection. They learned the ways of their father's world, and of their mother's. Their beauty, their innocence, softened many hearts, turned many minds. For some years, there was peace again. And the daughters grew to young women, devoted to each other, each with a talent that enhanced and completed those of her sisters.
They harmed no one, brought only light and beauty to both sides of the curtain. But there remained shadows. One coveted what they had that no god could claim. Through sorcery, through envy, despite all precautions, they were taken into the half-world. The spell cast plunged them into eternal sleep, a living death. And sleeping, they were sent back through the Curtain, their mortal souls locked in a box that has three keys. Not even their father's power could break the locks.
Until the keys turn, one, by two, by three, the daughters are trapped in an enchanted sleep and their souls weep in a prison of glass.
((As told by J.C. Morgan))
Emberosa · Wed May 17, 2006 @ 03:09am · 1 Comments |