"First, there was a Fire -- an endless fire that burned and cracked. But then the fire sparked and from that spark sprang the Sun and he stood above the Fire, shining and perfect and golden. But the Sun saw the fire would, one day, burn to nothing but empty ash. And so, Sun reached in and found the most beautiful of the coals. He polished each and found a gem within and made the Moons, who would then become his wives. With the cooling light of the Moons, the fire ebbed and died, but left behind a vast field that could be worked upon."
"The Sun took a bundle of sticks and fashioned the first god, Gaia. She saw the world around herself and ran to the Sun, to shelter underneath him -- but the Sun burned her with his might and his heat and she cried. Her tears washed the world clean and made the Sea. The ruins of the Fire floated into the Sea, and the Sun gestured to these ruins. He said: Gaia, these are your lands, to make as you will."
"And so, Gaia walked the lands. But there were many places that needed more than a wandering goddess. Gaia, remembering her father, crafted more gods to tend to the lakes, to the rivers, to the forests that began to grow. The gods made gods, and those gods made gods, and soon, the whole world was seething with gods, covered with Ten Billion Gods. The Sun and the Moon looked down upon the works of the Ten Billion Gods and were pleased."
"But, the Ten Billion Gods saw the repose of the Sun and the Moons and hungered for that peace. Some sought the peace within. But many others sought the peace without -- enslaving their fellow gods to serve them, to bring them grapes, to rub their feet, to water their gardens. Wars were fought as god turned upon god. The Moons wept -- and from their tears came a new breed: Humanity. As each Moon is ever changing, each tear was different from one another. Some humans were black. Some were green. Some were blue. Some could fly on the heavens. Some could walk upon the seas."
"The gods, jealous that their place might be usurped, used their power upon the humans. For the gods were might indeed."
"But humans were of the moons. They were ever changeable, not merely in their form, but in their minds. The humans fought back, and created something new, without guidance from the Sun or the Moon. They harnessed the wind with cloth and flew across the sea. They bent sticks with string and launched arrows at great distances. They studied the ways of the gods and learned magic of their own. And the gods were defeated and humanity became the rulers of the world. But the Sun and the Moons had seen what happened when the gods..."
"...are you listening to me?"
"...
Ember
!"
Ember jerked upright and smashed his head into the ceiling. "Ow!" He grabbed at his head and then winced as a fine line of plaster leaked from the crack he'd put into it, sliding along his hair, down his nose, and off his chin while Storyteller Devra glared at him from across the small hut. Devra was holding a large wooden ladle and stirring the pot, rich and heavy with the catch from this morning. She had a snatch of spices between her fingers and was poised to drop them into the burbling pot. Ember blushed and grinned at her.
"Uh, yes?" he asked. "Totally. Deffo listen. Max listen even." He nodded and leaned back against the wall.
"Very well then," Devra said, dropping the spices into the pot with a hiss and burble. "What happened when the Moons saw the gods warring among one another?"
"Uh..." Ember paused. "...they...yelled at them?"
"Ember!" Devra snapped. "You were
sleeping
!"
"I was
not
!" Ember said, full of effrontery, drawing himself to his full height. Which, considering he was the smallest boy in the village of Rataka and was currently sitting, amounted to not a lot. "That accusation is
entirely
unfounded and...I...am honestly shocked you'd suggest such a thing. To me! Ember!"
"Your name is
Sleeping
Ember," Devra said, her voice dry.
"It is not," Ember muttered.
"Sleepy! Sleepy!" A distant voice called out, floating through the open door. "Sleepy! It is your mother!"
"It's not!" Ember said. "That's just a...nickname."
Devra scowled at him. "Tell your mother you're not my apprentice anymore."
When Ember emerged from the small home of Storyteller Devra and into the village of Rataka, it was with a scowl on his lips and a bump on his head. But that scowl faded as he saw just how lovely the day was. The seasons had recently turned with a great offering to the local gods of winter and spring. The offering to the gods of winter coaxed them to sleep, while the offering to the gods of the spring caused them to sweep away the clouds and bring the sun out. Shimmering overhead, that great golden orb looked down at Ember with clear beneficence. Three of the moons -- Agate, Lapis and Ruby -- were visible just over the edge of the horizon. Muted compared to the brilliant glow of their...
Brother?
Ember was pretty sure they were related somehow, but he'd kinda fallen asleep.
Eh. Whatever. They were pretty, which was what mattered. And they shown down on his village. Well, not
his
village. The village that he lived in. Rataka was situated at the very edge of what might be termed the reach of the Regency, on the site of a glorious battle won by King Bahul during the last Cycle. The massive stone swords dropped in haphazard patterns by the titans of the Vile Rhagani now served as lookout posts, usually manned by children too young to work at the field or on the river. Said river flowed from the eyes of a long dead god that was situated a few miles ahead of town, covered with earth and soil. But her face was still there, and her eyes still streamed with water, water rich with fish and lobster and the occasional extremely confused porpoises, and Rataka used that water -- to fish from, to drink from, and to divert into their rice paddies.
The rice paddies were mostly between the Two Axes, the largest of the stone weapons, and at the current height that Ember stood at, he could see the light of the sun reflecting from the pools of glimmering water. Villagers walked among them, tending to the rice, and several shrines to the local gods of rice were situated in the intersection of paddies. Ember rubbed his hands through his hair and tried to remember
exactly
why he was out here.
"Sleeeeeepy!"
Ember's face fell.
Several of the other boys -- including Jagatai the Mighty -- were nearby, working on fixing up the roof of several of the houses damaged by the most recent wildstorm. They heard the call and then started to coo and twitter at Ember. Jagatai even cupped his broad hand to his face and called out: "Don't fall asweep until you get home, Burdy."
Ember chose to be the better, more enlightened man and ignore them. He definitely wasn't a
coward
. But...you know...
Jagatai the Mighty had once ripped a stump out of the ground. With his bare hands. Yes, it had been hacked at for a few hours by shovels and hoes, but
still
. Ember hurried away, their mockery in his ears. He started down the curving pathway that led towards his house -- and stopped and tried to look considerably cooler and sexier as he noticed a familiar pair of feet sticking out of a hammock. He stretched his arms above him, then hooked his fingers behind his neck and walked slower and more casually. He paused by the hammock.
"Sup, June," he said.
"You've got plaster in your hair," June said, her voice flat as a board as she read a scroll.
June the Orphan lounged in her hammock -- which was strung up in the awning before the apothecaries shop. Her tail, long and prehensile, was using a stylus to make small markings on a clay tablet underneath her. The scroll was written in script that Ember didn't recognize, which...didn't actually shock him. June knew how to read. He didn't. But unlike
most
people, June didn't use this as a reason to act superior to him in specific. Instead, June just exuded an attitude of casual superiority, even if some people whispered behind their doors that her name was better June the Devilborn.
Pff. Just because
someone
had horns and a tail and smelled faintly of brimstone, everyone was going 'devilborn' this and 'I swear she killed my chickens and daubed the blood on my door!' this and 'June walked by my house and my cat dropped dead, right then and there!' that. But since June was the best apothecary in the village, apprentice or no, no one had ever chased her out or worse. And June's powerful 'don't give a fuck' field, the same kind of shield projected by the heroes in Ember's favorite stories, did well to keep men and women at bay.
Ember tried to
very
casually dunk his head in the nearby trough. As he did so, he said: "So, uh-" splutter. "-hows it going, June?"
"Eh," June said. "Still haven't been burned at the stake."
"Heh. Jokes." Ember stood, brushing his fingers through his hair. "How do I look?"
"Wet," June said.
"
Ladies
," Ember crooned and wiggled his eyebrows at her.
"No, Bur. No. No." June shook her head. She kept shaking until Ember stopped wiggling his eyebrows. "No. Stop. Not even the left one. Okay." She sighed, then flicked her tail up, catching her stylus. "Did you lose another apprenticeship?"
"No. I aced it," Ember said. "You're looking at Rataka village's next storyteller."
"Tell me a story of Good King Bahul," June said, her voice as bored and disinterested as if she had asked about the distant stars.
"Uh-" Ember blinked. Every single fact he had ever learned about Good King Bahul flew out of his head, as if June had smacked him with a shovel. "He...had...a mustache."
"I'm amazed," June said. "A new level of incompetence."
"Yes!" Ember grinned. "Wait, shit, that's bad, isn't it?"
"Yes."
Ember sighed. Then he grinned. "Well. There's still..." He paused, thinking. He'd been apprentice to the fishermen, the rice harvesters, the roofmenders, the pottery makers, the shrine masters, the shipwrights, the village headwoman's assessor, the musician Po, and the apothecary. He was not entirely sure who was
left
to apprentice too. "The...necromancer."
"Rataka doesn't
have
a necromancer," June said.
"Exactly!" Ember grinned.
"Well, you will be unable to fail to learn from someone who is non..." She paused, then adjusted her scroll, as if she had just noticed something. Her brow furrowed. "Go away, Ember."
"Got it! We're a great team, June," Ember said, nodding and starting to walk along again. He was feeling fairly cheerful about how that had gone -- until he came around the corner and found his mother, standing before him, her arms crossed over her chest. Her huge, beatific smile only made him
more
nervous. And suddenly, Ember remembered that he had been out and about because his mom was calling him. Which
likely
meant that dinner was soon -- the sun would be going to sleep soon. He gulped slowly.
"Hey Mom!" he said, trying to sound cheerful. The light began to dim -- the sun was slowly starting to close, the two hemispheres of darkness that shrouded it when night came. As the night became dimmer and dimmer, the village lamplighters began to hasten to the lamp-posts with long wicks on sticks. Which was a sentence that
never
failed to make Ember smile.
"So, Sleepy," Mom said. "How was your apprenticeship?"
"Great!" Ember said, reflexively. "Terrible. Average!"
