Stars and Moon (Story) (Patreon)

It's been a long month for me with getting the novel into print, and then pushing hard on bringing about a collection. I do though have the story for this month done. It's another gnoll myth piece.

When the Old Gods created the world, they divided up the responsibilities among themselves. How exactly they divided the labor is unknown, but certain gods tackled certain problems together. From the songs of old, we know that the elf gods worked on the earth, sowing the bounty of the world we know now, while the dwarf gods piled up the stones that became the mountains. The human gods named all the things in the world, although the elf gods created their own names after hearing the names the human gods came up with. With how much the elves love poetry and song, we can only imagine they were displeased with the human gods’ choices.

The gnoll gods of old, being strong and willing, chose to help out all over the creation of the world. They did not seek glory by making certain things, they sought glory by helping make everything better. Their paws were involved in shaping all sorts of different aspects of the world. They carved steams in the mountains the dwarf gods made, and fashioned flowers for some of the plants the elves grew. They created their own names and shared them, thus spawning another language when no one could agree on who’s words for things were better. Yet one of the gnoll gods even undertook one of the most important tasks by herself. Aranya, the goddess of chance and fate, created the night sky. Without her, the night would not be as it is today.

There was a great discussion between all the gods before the work began. Once the gods decided to divide the night and the day, a lot of attention was given to the day. Time itself had been created by all the gods first, and the decision to divide the day was a major milestone in the process. The night was supposed to be a quiet period, so the task of making the night was not considered important. What to do with the night sky was left unresolved until the gnoll goddess Aranya volunteered to make it. She asked for only one thing to accomplish the work: a piece of the primordial fire.

Her brother, Thyrm, pushed for the other gods to allow her to take on this labor. Some though were displeased by her volunteering. Already, Aranya was well on her way to earning the reputation as a trickster we know her for now. She had been the one to push the gnoll gods to suggest their own names for things, knowing full well the elf and human gods were already locked in a struggle over words. Still, that wasn’t why the elf gods did not like her request. They were concerned Aranya might attempt to give the primordial fire to the people who would populate this new world. They felt it was too dangerous for mortals to be trusted with such a powerful tool, but Aranya pointed out that magic, not fire, was the truly dangerous thing to give out.

This did not persuade anyone. The primordial fire was imbued with magic, and all the gods knew this. This fire is not the fire we know today but was a much more powerful thing that burned for as long as it was left to burn. It is what the sun is made from.

A great discussion was had, but Thyrm, who had already created the dawn and painted the colors we see as sunrise thought it fitting that his sister should make the night sky. He had carried primordial fire into the sky to teach it how to rise day after day and become the sun, so why shouldn’t his sister have the honor of completing such a task?

No one disagreed that Aranya could have the honor of making the night sky. It was her choice in tools that concerned the other old gods. Yet Aranya would not be deterred, and she stood tall before the council of the Old Gods. To all those who disagreed with her, she asked how could she create the night sky without using something? They couldn’t leave it blank, and she certainly couldn’t take some of the earth and use that in the night sky. Since she spoke true, the other gods relented and gave her a piece of the fire. Then they left her to the task.

Her initial plan was to simply hang the fire a little further away than the sun and see how it looked. As Thyrm had carried the sun into the dawn, she could carry it into the night sky. Her sun was small and not a great burden to carry, but it still proved to be too bright. The ball of fire just made the night a softer day. Next, Aranya tried rolling out the fire into thin threads and weaving them across the sky, but after a few turns of the sky, the threads became bunched up and knotted. The work looked sloppy, and the other gods laughed at this. Aranya hung her head low and collected the threads, rolling them back into one single ball of fire.

Carefully and with great patience, she shaped the primordial fire into a sheet, making it so thin that it barely glowed. It took her days to knead and smooth out the fire, but that was nothing compared to the task of hanging it. This required an immense amount of work, and more than once the sheet fell to the earth and scorched it as layers of fire fabric pooled on the ground. Naturally, this caught the attention of the elf gods who were sowing the earth, and they came and scolded the gnoll god for her carelessness. When she pointed out she was working alone while they were working in a team, an argument that lasted four days broke out. In the meantime, the sheet of fire twisted and ripped apart as the sky turned.

When the dispute was settled and Aranya went to collect the primordial fire, she realized she’d burned some of the earth. The work of the elves in these areas was ruined, and this is how the deserts of our world were created. The elf gods of old never were able to make those lands fertile again, and even now they retain the heat of the primordial fire.

Frustrated with her failure, Aranya pulled down the fire she had already hung. She collected all of it back into a ball again. Then she climbed into the night sky to think. Her brother had painted the dawn and lifted the sun, yet she could not figure out what to do with the night sky. Frustrated and angry at her failure, Aranya seized the ball of primordial fire in her jaws and shook it. Sparks of fire shot out all over the night sky, but she cared not; her frustration knew no bounds. When she was done and tired, she had only a small bit of fire left. The rest had been scattered across the night sky. Sheepishly, she hung the now much smaller ball of fire in the night sky and crept back to her home to sulk and brood.

The sky turned, though, and the next night, when she went out to collect the fire she’d carelessly tossed about in her rage, she beheld her handiwork. Everything glittered and glowed in the dark, yet the light was just right, so any who sought to sleep could. The stars shone beautifully while the moon waxed and waned with the spirit of her determination. It had learned how to cycle its form from Aranya as she’d made and unmade the different night skies.

The task of creating the night sky was finished.