Heyna's Tale - Prelude
Prelude: Dreams and Legends
Some say that the threshold of Dream cannot be placed in the realm of the physical but lies in the heart of the seeker. The ones who know say that to cross over into the realm one needs only take a step in any direction, just a step, but with intention, the intention to become one of the ones who know.
There is a darkness deeper than any imagining on the far side of the galaxy and on the threshold of Dream. There, in a rain forest, on a southern continent, on a planet circling two suns and circled by three moons, the meanest creature may be first in courage and the greatest, a coward with a heart darker than that darkness that lies beneath the rain forest on that far away world.
The stars have whispered of this place to humans who look up at them with wonder. They bathe the Earth in star dust and pour their liquid crystalline wisdom into receptive eyes and yearning souls. The inklings of beings unknowable have permeated the vastness of space and the immensity of time to become legends in stories, and muses to artists.
Who can say if these beings exist in any way more real than the stars themselves, on the far side of the galaxy, on the threshold of Dream, on a strange planet that circles two suns and is circled by three moons? Or does it matter in a story of fantastic creatures with brave or cowardly hearts?
The ones who know, say that on this planet there are continents in a great sea, laughed into existence and shaped by the fiery heart and flinty imagination of Pu Apai, a whimsical goddess. Now, Pu Apai is a goddess, but Pu Apai is not jealous, nor acquisitive, and has no room for greed in her heart of fire. So, when Grema Yod, a lesser god, sang the song of dragons, and dragons were, and those dragons nested on the craggy islands in the central sea, the islands that Pu Apai had laughed into existence, and became a great race, Pu Apai laughed again!
The ones who know say that the southern continent is covered in thick jungle, spit from the maw of the great goddess, Carrahtotoo, She of the rainbow plumage and crystal claws. High in the treetops, an empire of Art sways in the breeze. Carrahtotoo is too haughty, and too aware of her beauty to stain her claws or scales or feathers with work, so great cities are shaped from the jungle canopy by clever servants. Down deep on the jungle floor, untouched by sunlight, blind denizens consume the offal that falls from the creatures of light. Carrahtotoo is satisfied that this is just as it should be.
The ones who know say there is a great western continent, sculpted by Sutondo Jainkoa out of the clay of ten billion summers. Small gods nest there and pepper the land with minor dominions. Egur, goddess of wood and Azala, of bark, sister rulers of trees, nest there. Ibaia of the Waters, with a million fingers, flows forever to the sea. Here two great peoples are partners, sharing their skills and crafting what neither could craft alone. Some call it respect. Some call it magic. The ones who know call it wisdom.
The ones who know know but do not speak of another great island hidden in the midst of the sea where many have sheltered from Tanoth, sometimes called Strife Stormbringer, sometimes called The Mixer. Tanoth blows no fair winds near the continent and wrecks the fragile vessels who dare to approach. Some say that the lesser gods are too weak to protect the island from The Mixer. The ones who know do not speak of it.
The planet that circles two suns and is circled by three moons is called Earth, or Air, or Fire, or Water, by the peoples of the world according to their manners. Quetzalcoatl say Tetl. The Gryphon say Mundua. The dragons are of two minds; Dreki say Jord, Ryujin say Sekai. The Erda simply call it the world.
The ones who know call the planet by its true name, Carrelaer.