Prelude: A Conversation between the Bard and the Sun

"I am the Bard..."

Prelude: A Conversation between the Bard and the Sun

 

            “Allow me to begin by dispelling certain rumours that have lately run amok. It has been grumbled that I caused that event which nearly brought the death of all things. This is utterly untrue. The Great Fires, as men call it, was brought upon themselves.

            Any half-wit who boasts such accusations ought to remember that it was I who came to man’s salvation in the end. I made a sanctuary for my children where they would never need to know the sweat of work to taste their food. You will hardly find a more gracious bunch than my Augustinian children " and at least they are civilized, unlike the Northern ragtag who fancy sealing themselves up in a bubble and parading into whatever religion they find fashionable, as if they forget from whom they receive their sustenance. Heretical fellows!

            But come, Bard, don’t look so aghast. You know perfectly well I am justified in despising your people. I must confess you bear little semblance to that lot of brutes -- perhaps you might consider staying awhile, though from the look on your face I can tell you’ve already made up your mind. Man always was the most stubborn of earth’s creatures.

            I sense you’ve come looking for more than petty chatter, so let’s have some words from you. Speak, and if it so moves me, I’ll listen.”

            “I’ve heard rumours of you, Madam, but I can honestly say I never indulged in any of them. I came only to ask what you know of the pale boy born under Luna’s stars.”

            “Which? I know of two.”

            “The very boy who spent his childhood here. I’ve come to find out the child’s roots. Though he spoke of his homeland, I’d like to know how he came hither. You brought him to the temple’s doorstep, I’ve been told -- not what I’d expect from the mighty Sol. If you know anything, share! I’d do you the service of soaking in your every word.”

            “Flattery and beguilement are hard-mixed, Bard. I find you stammering in tongue; your Northern roots, I should blame it on.

            Of this boy, though, I am curious. I have a deal to make with you -- it’s a generous offer, so you’d best accept it with gratitude. I will tell you what I know, but in return, you must provide me with the rest of his story.”

            “I’ll take you up on that.”

            “A wise choice. Very well.

            When Luna grows forlorn ruling his wasteland empires and torturing the Northerners with all manner of nip and frost, he comes this way at the allotted time to gawk and grumble over my dark-skinned children. It’s no appreciation for art at all -- the old fool has a propensity to ruin all things beautiful. I suppose that by sheeting Augustine in snow and ice, he would call it a masterpiece -- old fool indeed! That’s fine -- my people are without of his reach, and he knows it all too well, though it doesn’t keep him from bothering me.

            Sometimes, when I tire of his ravings, I step down from the heavens and wander in my sanctuary. On one such night, I came upon pools of warm, bubbling blood soaking the grass. Thinking it might belong to an animal sprung from the jaws of some predator, I followed the trail to observe in its suffering.

            In place of an animal I found a woman, pale and clothed in a white frock. A Northerner, of all things to crawl into my garden and die! She had a gaping hole in her thigh, from which she bled. My pleasure at watching her groan with pain was profound.

            A wind, however, brought upon me rare pity, so I drew forth my sword and pierced one of her eyes. As her brain boiled and oozed from that socket, I caught sight of her companion: an infant, naked and pale as she, lay curled at her side. He reached out his hand for me, and though I intended that he should die, behold -- pity was still with me!

            All this Luna saw, and from the heavens he demanded, ‘Who is this child, Sol?’

            ‘He is one of mine now,’ I replied. ‘Go and hurry off to your own lands.’

            That stubborn fool only drew his face closer, keen to inspect the boy. ‘I do not like his ears. Devilish things, they. Men had their stories in older times concerning his kind of creature. Look at how they point at the top, instead of rounding off like other men’s! And see that silver ring in the lobe -- it’s a sure sign. I’ve seen it myself. But half a cycle ago, one like he was brought to me. My nymphs are beside themselves with throws of nonsense! It’s the first they’ve seen of a man.’

            So said the old brute, making winds with his speeches.

            ‘And what exactly do you suppose you shall do with this boy?’ he asked. ‘Feed him with your breast milk? You’re far too manly in spirit for the task, unless you intend to nurse a son on blood.’

            ‘I intend on no such thing. My nuns will raise him.’

            At this, Luna bellowed with laughter. ‘Nuns! Your shrine prostitutes, you mean. I know all about your sun cult.’

            He continued to bother me about the child’s raising, so I asked him why it was so important to him.

            ‘This child is not like any other. Have you not eyes? He and his brother were not born of men, but made by them. They are relicts of the magic of the world before. There is yet some purpose in their birth, though what it is I cannot bring to mind. I have it in my heart to fear.’

            ‘If you are terrified of these children’s purpose,’ I said, ‘then would they not be best kept apart? As long as they know nothing of the other, they will spend their days in blissful ignorance.’

            So at last I convinced that old fool to make amends with me. With his freezing axe, Luna cut the silver tag from the child’s ear, so that he would never wonder at its meaning. This was the token I paid the nuns for taking the boy into their arms. They prized that small treasure as a gift from their god, placing it at the center of their temple -- the sacred heart of their worship " for they knew my face when I appeared at their doorstep. The boy they took in with them. And this is where my account ends and yours begins, I believe. So come, Bard, earn your wage and tell me all you know of this unlucky child.”