Diary of Bethany
It was after the fall of the shinning city that I first thought to make a refuge, a place apart others, with their requests, their “needs”, their endless things of Importance. The other Elders have all scattered, taking some few trusted ones, but with the City’s fall I am certain that the Powers or Changed or others will seek us out, to twist our gifts to their ends.
I still remember the days when first we gathered. Those few who had seen past the veil, who had truly listened to the world all about us. I had not thought it would be our own kin that led to the fall. How naive we were, when first the danger from the Powers became obvious, we were gathered together. Called up a great gleaming city, shinning forth in the clouds, above the strife. Together we might have brought peace, slowly returning everything to balance. Alas, each of us had their own interests. So very different, we can each easily get lost, chasing our visions down. Losing track of days, weeks, even years. So once we looked up, there was a multitude grown up from our own kin. Children of our own, bearing some measure of our own gifts, they had grown strong thinking they could turn us to their wills. Warring with each other in words, speeches, duels and deeds done in the dark, each family seeking dominance. All of them believing so highly of themselves as if they were the Creator themselves. Madness!
The elders realized that we too had been blinded by our gifts. We had not raised up the wise but rather the spoiled, armed now by the trinkets we had wrought. We could not let them keep the Shinning City so full of the things we had called forth. We would not have our gifts used so, it would pervert the Song itself.
Oh the loss of its gleaming walls, once so majestic, proudly jutting thru the clouds as the City moved, now broken. I remember that morning, Cora’s Peak just poking thru the Auroch’s Horns blocking the morning sun. We struck, knocking our own creation from the sky. The towers and armories, the homes and stadiums lying strewn thru the valleys round. But its destruction was not enough, its secrets must be kept untouched. At first we thought to unmake but Nathan saw danger in this. He saw a time to come, a new flowering or long night, all rested in balance with only the slightest difference. We must preserve the light. So it was our last great Song together hid our first. Hidden from mortals eyes, shrouded in fog, as it had been in clouds. And the Quiet one spoke, and the lands around answered him, the hills grew and the valleys deepened. Only the one true path remained to the vale marked by Blade and Hammer. My dear mad brother, with capering and whirling about, bound to the path such devices and wonders as would bar the stoutest heart. I called forth Giants to guard it. Shaping each one with purpose that the ruins remain inviolate. Rhianna named the place Dread and none came to it but new fear in their bones, and so it was each of the elders, sealed it away as seemed wise to them.
It was not an end though. The Families remain, still bent against this purpose, that they might be the first to reclaim their heritage. I can only hope and trust that the Creator can bring wisdom into their hearts. That they might find more noble purpose than their own aggrandizement.
Many years later, the Families continued to haunt us, sure they might bend us to their will, I found myself again on the run near those lands. So I thought to go and see what we had wrought. It was curious, my youngest children knew me, as have all my children recognized me. They bid me be welcome in their halls. More true then any of my blood, they gave me succor, honoring me. Still faithful, they were true to their salt. Squabbling among themselves, they still stood watch. Seeing me in my cowl, they dropped their feuds and welcomed me with feasts and games, their true joy clear on their faces. How odd the ways of the World.
Still I remember dear Nathans words, “One Day we will each be called up again, our gifts will stand in the breach to night or light.”
The elders realized that we too had been blinded by our gifts. We had not raised up the wise but rather the spoiled, armed now by the trinkets we had wrought. We could not let them keep the Shinning City so full of the things we had called forth. We would not have our gifts used so, it would pervert the Song itself.
Oh the loss of its gleaming walls, once so majestic, proudly jutting thru the clouds as the City moved, now broken. I remember that morning, Cora’s Peak just poking thru the Auroch’s Horns blocking the morning sun. We struck, knocking our own creation from the sky. The towers and armories, the homes and stadiums lying strewn thru the valleys round. But its destruction was not enough, its secrets must be kept untouched. At first we thought to unmake but Nathan saw danger in this. He saw a time to come, a new flowering or long night, all rested in balance with only the slightest difference. We must preserve the light. So it was our last great Song together hid our first. Hidden from mortals eyes, shrouded in fog, as it had been in clouds. And the Quiet one spoke, and the lands around answered him, the hills grew and the valleys deepened. Only the one true path remained to the vale marked by Blade and Hammer. My dear mad brother, with capering and whirling about, bound to the path such devices and wonders as would bar the stoutest heart. I called forth Giants to guard it. Shaping each one with purpose that the ruins remain inviolate. Rhianna named the place Dread and none came to it but new fear in their bones, and so it was each of the elders, sealed it away as seemed wise to them.
It was not an end though. The Families remain, still bent against this purpose, that they might be the first to reclaim their heritage. I can only hope and trust that the Creator can bring wisdom into their hearts. That they might find more noble purpose than their own aggrandizement.
Many years later, the Families continued to haunt us, sure they might bend us to their will, I found myself again on the run near those lands. So I thought to go and see what we had wrought. It was curious, my youngest children knew me, as have all my children recognized me. They bid me be welcome in their halls. More true then any of my blood, they gave me succor, honoring me. Still faithful, they were true to their salt. Squabbling among themselves, they still stood watch. Seeing me in my cowl, they dropped their feuds and welcomed me with feasts and games, their true joy clear on their faces. How odd the ways of the World.
Still I remember dear Nathans words, “One Day we will each be called up again, our gifts will stand in the breach to night or light.”
Type
Journal, Personal
