Magic Mirror

A belayed entry to Mind Love Misery’s Minagerie!

Illume, the light of the soul, had been blessed with the gift of life. She could animate all that she touched with a flick of her wrist, turning earth into gnomes, water into spirits, wind into doves, and fire into sprites. The dark lord who wanted to possess her however cast a pernicious spell while she slept.

One night, Illume encountered an ebony mirror in her dreams. The mirror did not reflect who one was but instead who one could be. On that night, a resplendent queen appeared in her guise who commanded the adoration and love of all the subjects in the land. The next night, a powerful sorceress emerged atop a mountain who fended off a great barbarian invasion from the north. On the third, a fierce huntress and she-wolf materialized and nearly leapt out of the panel.

The midnight encounters continued for centuries as the dream world slowly bled into her waking life. Illume developed her powers, transmuting herself into every one of the possibilities that the mirror showed. Each time, the ebony mirror absorbed some of her light, slowing turning its dark shade into a translucent sheen until she was eventually no more. By the end, a magic mirror stood in her place in a lonesome tower. The dark lord at long last arrived to claim his prize. When he gazed between the frames, he saw nothing but a blinding light for the magic mirror no longer reflected what one could be, but what one can never have.

Origins 7.

Entry to this week’s WPS! Location: Kaieteur Falls, Guyana

Legends spoke of the Demon Kaktusi that fell from the heavens in a battle against the Sun god. Sealing itself within a meteor, it made its escape across the wide expanse before impacting an infant Earth and splintering into seven pieces.

Burying deep within the planet’s mantle, Gaia who watched over the planet could not stop the invasion. Instead, she sought to hinder the Demon’s resurgence, casting a spell that imprisoned the fragments in massive iron cores that would drift apart beneath the planet and never unite. Kaktusi’s volcanic rage tried to break Gaia’s spell but to no avail. Its lava bursts formed the land masses that made Pangea and the seven continents over the eons.

Today, you can still hear the Kaktusi’s bellows. Look for the lava tubes behind waterfalls but beware of their designs. Mankind under its influence also seek the stars.

The Warning

Entry to this week’s What Pegman Saw!

Solomon at the height of his power sought to resurrect Babylon, a city in the desert where the mythical garden of Eden could descend upon. Scouring the far reaches of his realm, he discovers traces of a dried-up system of water ways that had long been scrawled out by the passages of time. The nexus at their intersections form a vast underground hull several miles wide, the result of perhaps a meteoric impact from ages past. Entering the cavernous space, he finds faint trickles of water emanating from an unknown source. Following the residual streams leads to the entrance of a sealed chamber blocked by a massive boulder. Two large hand-prints cover its side along with an inscription in an unknown yet familiar language. Placing his hands over the impression, a woman’s voice whispered from without. “Beware of floods. Towers and arks won’t save you this time.”

Door in the Sky

Entry to this week’s FFfAW! Image courtesy of TJ Paris.

Legends tell of a door in the sky that connects our world with the old divines. In the days when stars illuminated signs and the heavens conversed openly with the earth, mankind need only look up and listen for the sky-door remained open, never shut. In time,  man mimicked the divines, learning to speak from the sound the wind and learning to write from alignments of the stars. The divines then issued a mandate; man was to rule so long as they heeded wisdom and continued to learn.

Eons would pass as mankind’s achievements grew great. Multiply it did to cross the seven seas and inhabit the seven continents. But conceit grew with its knowledge; preoccupied it forsook wisdom and turned towards itself. Its own voices drowned out the wind and its edifices blotched out the sky. All the while, the door in the sky silently closed as mystery and wonder fell to simulation and abstraction. Only the children were spared for they could still see and hear the faint outlines of ghosts and whispers of the divines. Lanterns they launched into the night; the door in the sky creaked.

 

Of Music

A pure-tone wanted to sing but could only muster a single sound. Sometimes louder, other times softer, the pitch refused to change and soon fell into the background. Alone, she fractured herself into pieces to keep herself company. One tone became two, three, four, and so-on where together they could sing and form a harmonic. However as time went on, not all their arrangements were pleasant. Many of the overtones competed, singing loudly to drown out others. Some were shy and preferred to stay mute, nearly forgetting their voice. Thus, a leader was needed and the original pure-tone, now fundamental as all the overtones were multiples of herself, accepted the role. Hence, the nice-sounding arrangements were organized into timbres and the group took to the streets, whistling their harmonics.

One day, the harmonic encountered another group with voices that didn’t match their own. A cacophony ensued and the two groups argued from morning to dusk until only murmurs and whispers could be heard. Once all the voices had died down, the two pure-tones fundamental to their respective harmonics met and began to take turns speaking. From that meeting onwards, the two groups of harmonics began to understand one-another. Pace, beat, and rhythm gave their conversations order and comprehension. Seeing the possibilities of what they could sing together, the two harmonics decided to merge into a harmony, traveling and singing as one.

Over the years, the harmony would grow large in size. To identify among themselves, they assigned symbols from an alphabet. Distant harmonics were given letters A to G whereas their close cousins were assigned suffixes like flat and sharp. Together, their voices struck a balance between tense and relaxed, hard and soft, tonic and atonic. Groups of three formed chords. Groups of eight that lead and ended with fundamentals formed octaves and scales. However with all the organization and structure of a troupe, the harmony lacked direction, a soul and its impulse to move beyond mere voice. In other words, harmony needed a melody, a heart that could resonate, sway, and inspire the hearts of others. This task it could not accomplish alone so it wrote itself into the natural world, leaving behind a legacy that others can listen to, compose from, and speak with across the ages.

Origins 4.

A wooden chalice hung as a mantelpiece atop a throne room. In times of drought, the chalice poured everlasting water. In times of famine, it produced handfuls of grains. However, the great bounty that the chalice gave could only be matched by the sacrifice required. That is, human blood kept the wood from turning to stone. The thief, who found the goblet amidst ancient burial tombs, warned the King of its inscription: “Beware of those who give gifts freely”. The advice was duly noted and the kingdom continued its usual business until the Great War.

The Great War taxed the kingdom and its people to its outermost limits. The human toll on all sides amassed as food and water dwindled. Discontent filled the atmosphere as talks of revolution mixed with pangs of thirst and hunger. The king, now in dire straits, started to blood-let the population, feeding both the chalice and the citizens. At first, the water and food satiated the masses as a drug would before gripping its victim in withdrawal. Within a month, the pangs returned with twice the ferocity with a new compulsion for blood. The revolution would soon turned into bloodbath as the kingdom slowly fed itself to the vessel.

By the end of the king’s reign, the chalice had grown in size of a cauldron. Its top now sealed, the artifact appeared more like a cocoon, incubating some unspeakable malice within. The throne now its cradle, a new inscription appeared along its side: “Rejoice for those who take gifts freely”.

Origins 1.

A feral child, raised by wolves since infancy, lay dying by the river-side at night. Hounded by the villagers who had mistaken him for killing their sheep, and abandoned by his pack after  a change in leadership, he fended for himself. The moon goddess of the hunt, ever keen on the boy’s circumstances, materialized over the reflection cast on the river. She offered him a pact: Become my champion and I grant you both strength and virility of wolf, with intelligence and cunning of man. Look upon my visage and become werewolf,  man-beast and hunter of the night. Bring me game ever larger than the last lest madness overtakes you. The moon turned red and a new legend was born.