The Companion's Crown

The three took to their halls on earth and settled this uncultivated world. Ralka graced the seas and rivers with her spirit, and the ocean breeze carried whispers of her growing malcontent.

         The other Archos were made to be lonely, it was true, but not she. Her treewoven halls and marble throne were not company enough to warm her heart. Not even her mother could give the companionship she so craved. As the universe came more and more into being, Lyean was less in her material body and increasingly in her spirit.

         As the past stretched wider, Lyean shrank. She was pulled thin by the burden of time. Ralka could not seek friendship in her omniscient mother. Who, then? She asked herself.

         She gathered the clouds into horses and shaped a chariot of ice strong enough to carry her to the ends of the earth. She drove them far, farther than she had been for many years.

         To the Usid she went, diving though a crack in the ground as if she were a single raindrop instead of a goddess. The earth became hotter and hotter, but down she sped. Although her spirit disliked the confinement of the ground, she was no stranger to it. All life begins in the earth, and to the earth once more it must go. Even in this dull world this was true.

         Finally Ralka burst through the earth into a great hall. The chamber was vast and warm, the sconces on the wall burning with soft light. At the end was a single great fire, and by it, a black throne. It was not a pleasant affair, she saw. Iron and harsh, it was not a seat of comfort, but of duty.

         What her brother made of her kingdom was no business of hers.

         Even Ralka, forgiving and loving, held her isolation against her brothers. Perhaps it was the weight of the earth above her, but Ralka felt none of the lightness of her water and air in this place. This was not her realm. She shuddered.

         Her mettle proved true, however. Her steps made no noise as she walked towards the first Great Forge, and in doing so, Imari.
         ”Hail, brother. Your fires burn bright, I see.” She asked. The Fire snarled angrily at her words and she found herself taking a step back. She held no power in these lands but her character.

         Imari looked up from his work. “Sister,” he greeted. “I have long awaited your visit to mine halls. Are they not beautiful?” He asked, gesturing to the walls of black stone. They were inlaid with some rich metal that seemed to glow in the soft light.

         ”It is a fine work,” she admitted. “Yet, for all of its beauty, it is missing life.” She touched a wall with one gentle hand. To her surprise, the walls were not hot, but ice cold. “How much has this stone cost the mountains of our brother, these fires cost the woods? Is it worth it, Imari?”

         His eyes grew dark. “It is. There is beauty in the harsh as well as the soft. You would do well to remember that.” His face grew hard as he regarded his work. It seemed for a moment he would cast her out in his anger. However, a breath and all his tension escaped his body. He took on a new countenance of resignation.

         ”I wish you no ill, sister, nor you I. To what do I owe your presence?” He folded his hands over each other and regarded her with such clarity that she knew she could not lie, nor tarry amongst words.

         ”I have come seeking companionship. Do you not grow weary of the company of your light and flames?” He shook his head, but not in response or reprimand.

         ”I have turned fire into Forge, so that I may yet create. Do you see what I have made? It is better than this world has seen in its years.” He eyed his work with fondness. “Yet you are right, that it is oft lonesome and weary work.” Imari watched not her as he spoke, but at the dancing flames around them. His eyes were as greedy as the blaze that consumed- but they were deep with sorrow. He was proud and brave, but there was indeed an emptiness that he would not disclose. Ralka saw this and sighed.

         ”And I would have you stay and offer you partake in the joys of these halls,” he said. “For there are many. Here are the treasures of the earth, beaten copper and shining jewels, food roasted over fires to perfection, deep underground streams of the purest waters.”
         ”Then why do you not?” Ralka asked, wiping sweat from her brow. “You would wish it to be so, as would I. You are my brother in all but blood, and I would seek you out of love.”

         Imari turned away, no longer facing her. She saw his scowl as he did so. “I do not offer because I cannot. The Usid drains you as Sirand drains me. Already, you wane. I have nothing but desolation and destruction to offer you through my love, sister,” He said bitterly. “Take what you might from my Forge and gift it to another. I cannot be your companion, but least I shall to be your enemy. Your friendship means much, even if only in offer.”

         With this, Imari strode away, his footsteps echoing in the beautiful, empty hall.

         At his forge sat three crowns”one of the darkest obsidian, one of the brightest silver, and one of transparent glass. All were beautiful. Ralka wondered why he did not take one for himself, adorn himself with his crown as he did with his jewelry and gold.

         She took all three and rode back to her seaside hall. In the silver crown she wove the rain, and in the glass she laid gold. The third she did not embellish, but left it in its purity.

         These were to be for her and her brothers. For now, though, Ralka traveled deep into the wilderness of the world, and had her horses ride to the top of the tallest mountain, the Sky”s Cusp.

         She feared that her loneliness would be long enduring. Eari was her last chance, the only one she could go to now.

         So she arrived at his halls, halfway between earth and sky. Eari sat at the top of the mountain on a stone pavilion, his throne overlooking the world below.

         ”Eari!” She called as her chariot set down. “I greet you with good will and good tidings.”

         His eyes hardly shifted from his self designated post as watchman, and he did not rise to acknowledge her. He merely nodded at his sister and resumed his guard of the world. God of earth and balance as he was, there was little of import to him beyond his rule.
         Ralka resolved to catch his attention now. “Beyond news of the world, I have brought a gift.”

         ”Oh?” Eari said. “I am curious. Give both without delay. I would see them plainly.”

         Ralka nodded at this curtness and found herself telling of her visit with her other brother. Eari sat attentively, his eyebrows raising at the mention of his forge and the crown. She drew out the two other crowns”for one was placed upon her head already”and presented them.
         The crown of glass she offered him first.

         ”Fitting,” she said. “For your balance is fragile, but when that scale is set even, it is precious as gold.”

         ”As you say. Always waxing on with your words, sister. Yet I cannot begrudge you that this gift is lovely.” He turned it about twice in his hands before placing it, without any other perfunctory actions, justly on his. “May I see the other?”

         She presented the obsidian crown promptly, without word.

         ”Interesting. I would not adorn this pure stone, but I would perhaps add more to it?” Ralka nodded her assent, and with that he summoned from the stone a rim. “It should remind my brother that he has more to look towards than his fire. Though he lives at the bottom of this world, there is no higher point than this, the crossing of stone and sky.”

         Ralka took the crown back from him and put it in her saddlebag, turning back. There was a silence, an uncomfortable one.

         ”Now, sister, why seek me out yourself to deliver this gift? You could easily have sent a messenger to do the same.”

         Ralka nodded, for she knew that Eari did not dance around words like in leaf in the wind, and nor did he drift like the Great Rivers”he crashed like a landslide around any and all.

         ”I seek companionship,” Ralka stated simply. When met with stone, a blunt weapon cut as deep as the sharp.

         Eari crossed his arms. “You tend many beasts,” he said, gesturing to the horses that snorted in the cold. “Seek them for companionship.”

         ”They have no speech, brother. I desire connection and friendship. For that, I need words. Intelligence.”

         ”Many of Sirand”s creatures are more intelligent than perhaps you credit them,” Eari said. Ralka”s mouth set into a line. She looked away, over the edge of the world and into the sky beyond. Eari was as lost in that world as Imari was in his fires.

         ”I seek the love and friendship of my brother, the King of Twilight. Yet now I seek that I was wrong in coming here.” She cast him a sad look. “Forgive me.” Ralka turned to depart. As she climbed into her chariot, Eari called out behind her, in that even voice of his:

         ”You are forgiven.”

         Ralka took flight, the crown of silver adorning her snowy tresses as they waved behind her. She wandered across the skies for a great while, through dawn and sunset, through midday and midnight”yet she found that even the wonders of the world were not enough to distract her.

         So finally she alighted in a wooded clearing. The glade was the birth place of a the Great River Solla, now dried and leaving only valleys behind. Yet in these days it flowed fast and strong, even from the spring. Her brother”s idea was not a bad one, she decided. She would find a companion here on Sirand. After all, if she could not grant the gift of speech, who would?

         Out of loneliness came the first gathering of all things living. A single of each creature flocked to Ralka as she stood, the birds to the trees, the fish to the stream, and the animals of land to the clearing.

         First she went to Eagle, mightiest of the birds. She spoke in the chirping language of birds, saying, “What makes you Eagle?”

         The bird spread its great wings and let out a proud “caw”. “My majesty precedes me! I am power in flight and the keenness of my eye is equal only to my regality.” For Eagle was conceited and thought himself king of the skies.

         He was too proud to be her companion, she decided. She turned Eagle away and went to the most cunning of fish, Eel. She spoke in the burbling language of fish, saying, “What makes you Eel?”

         ”Many things make me what I am,” Eel hissed. “My shape, my teeth, my tail. My riddles and silver tongue that slither and allow me to snake through the smallest gaps. That is what gets me what I want, and makes me who I am.” For Eel was a double edged sword of a fish, sly and unpredictable, but above all, selfish.

         She turned Eel away and went to the strongest of the land walkers, Bear. She spoke in the simple language of animals, saying, “What makes you Bear?”

         Raising himself tall, Bear replied in a growl. “What does not make me bear? I am strength and uncontested champion of all land walkers, fish, and birds alike. There are none who can best me at a contest of will!” But Bear was cruel and brutish, neither of which sat well with the gentle Ralka.

         Thus she turned away from all and sent them on her way. She sat by the spring, turning Imari”s would-be crown over in her hands, thinking. She did not weep, for although her soul cried out, she knew that it would help her none. It was with heavy heart that she resigned herself to the lonely years to come.

         At that moment, a voice sounded from the treeline.

         ”You questioned creatures of air, water, and land, did you not?” Asked the creature, in a tongue that was not of any of those, and yet was not of the gods either. Ralka nodded and the creature continued. “But what of those of all three?”

         ”You cannot be of all, my child. That is not the way of things.”She folded her hands and leaned back, looking at this odd creature.
         ”What are you willing to give me if I am?” She asked, for it was a she.

         The goddess gestured around her. “Anything here you see, that is note stone nor stream nor sky.” The creature puzzled her, but perplexity was infinitely better than loneliness, even if it was for but a moment.

         The creature nodded. “I am Human, most perfect of all creatures,” she said, before walking to the river. “See how I walk across land. See how I conquer it beneath my feet. Am I not master of land?”

Ralka agreed. “You are indeed a land walker.”

She jumped into the river and began to swim. “Look how my hands catch the water! I am faster than the bottom feeding fish of the ocean, am I not? I swim with more skill than any.” Human rose and climbed from the water. Drops of liquid glistened on her skin like crystals. “Am I not master of water, as well?”

Ralka agreed. “You are indeed a creature of water, too. But so is Frog, and he can hardly claim mastery of all.” Human smiled at that, and walked to the edge of the clearing, to one of the many trees that ringed it. She scaled it and leapt from branch to branch like a hopping chick.

“See how I fly!” She called as she dropped from the tree with a thud. “I fly farther than any chicken, that which you call bird. Am I not master of air?”

Ralka smiled and agreed, that yes, she was. Human fell to one knee in front of the goddess. “See how I master them all. Am I not the champion of the three?” Her eyes darted up to meet Ralka's.

         ”And yet look at you, humbling yourself, honest, fair.”

         ”I am merely human,” the woman said. “And yet that is so much.”

         Ralka smiled for the first time in too long. Perhaps she could find a companion on Sirand after all. “Very well,” she said. “Now I grant you your boon. What do you desire in this world?”

         Human did not hesitate. Instead she rose and pointed to the obsidian crown, still handled in Ralka”s hands. “I desire that thing of beauty. Not the world, not power, not whatever else you have to offer me. Only this, in the world.”

         Although Ralka felt a part of herself go with her brother”s intended crown, the rules of the deal had been simple. Anything she could see.
“With the crown you take a part of the universe itself, friend. That crown is thrice god-blessed: by Imari, the maker, Eari, the shaper, and Ralka, the bridge. Learn and tremble at the power you behold, should you choose to wear it. Chose now, whether to live in ignorance and bliss or light and all the darkness it brings with it.”

Human shook her head. Her eyes shone with steel resolve. “It is always better, I fear, to know.”

         Human placed the crown upon her head, and her eyes went white with light. Her features grew even and her hair grew long, and knowledge beyond the grasp of any mortal yet born flooded her mind in a single moment.

          Ralka placed a hand on Human”s shoulder. “You carry with you a precious gift.”

         ”What?” The woman asked. “What gift could balance against what I know now of the world?” Her face twisted with fear, disgust, envy, and malice, all of it which coursed through her as truth”s gray doors opened. Her eyes squeezed shut as if the block out the world around her.
         Ralka gave a small smile. “Look beyond the evil, and seek good.”

         Opening her eyes once more, Human tried to look beyond. In that she saw art, and heard music, and delighted in the beauty of the world around her in the way of humanity. “I have seen, and now am no longer simply Human,” she said.
         ”No?” Ralka asked. “Are you not master of fowl, fish, and flesh? Have you another identity?”

         ”No”“ she managed. “Yes. I do not lose my old identity, but instead am more. I am to discover and change and pursue and live and,” she grasped her hair as if to tear the off her head, to cast away the hugeness of the world. “But I am more than that. I am Dova, first of the humans, mother to all. This crown gives me individuality, and all my children shall be their own.”

         Ralka nodded. “The way is not clear to me, but I see you as light-bearer. Although you do not create, I name you Anderi, crafter. Come, Dova. The world awaits.” She gestured towards the sky. But Dova did not move, the caution in her warning that the sky was not her domain.

         ”There will be a day, I think,” Dova said. “When I should make that journey with you, when I am an outdated relic of an old world, but while I live I wish to be on Sirand. It is my home, and I am a part of it in a different way than a god. I was created out of the tides of this earth, and to earth I will return.”

         Ralka, coming to understand, nodded slowly. “You will not be able to speak to your fellow animals if you remain. You know too much now to sink to them so low. You shall be lonely.”

         ”I shan”t be. My children will grow to know me, and I them. I will revel in the bounties of the earth and make a home like no other. I will find solace in humanity, I know it. I cannot come with you, Lady Ralka. For many years, perhaps, I will be. But I will search this earth for other humans, and give them this selfsame gift.”

         And for the first time, Ralka laughed”a sound like a trickling stream and the ringing of a silver bell. “You are a stubborn creature, friend. But come, when two are lonely, the way of nature is for them to come together. There”s no need for loneliness tonight. I will walk with you, whatever path you may take, and one day you shall walk with me in eternity.”

         With this, Ralka became to the likeness of Anderi, distinguished only by her hair and crown, white and silver and green. And thus friendship was kindled in humans and gods, in laughter and loneliness and life.