The Siblings from the Mountain
When the first people walked the earth, they did so in total darkness. No light existed for them; no light shone in the sky. Only when fire was harnessed were they able to lay eyes upon each other. Parents viewed their children, children viewed their siblings; all for the first time. Fire was coveted, people flocked to it. Around those first fires the first villages formed. From those villages the first cities grew.
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In those cities people harnessed fire. They created torches, then candles, then glass. To encase the glass, metal was forged. Metalsmiths created large lanterns to line the streets of the city. Towering lights were placed at the entrance of each city to signal the way to travelers. The flame keepers working non-stop to keep the giant lantern fires fed.
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As more people had their sights lit, more entered the city. When they left the city, they took lanterns with them and so the paths of the people were lit. Despite the fires, the majority of the world remained in darkness. Most of those too far from any signal fire lived in darkness as their ancestors did. As more lanterns left the cities, only those in the most rural areas remained unlit.
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From one of these places, an unlit mountain too steep to climb, two siblings deigned to venture down the mountain for the first time. Their mother had gone down the mountain in search of light, their father followed when she failed to return. The elder sister held her unseen brother close as they tripped, stumbled, rolled down the mountain.
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The journey down the mountain was slow but the two were patient. For that patience they were rewarded. At the bottom of the mountain they found a single, lit lantern. The glass crudely made, full of bubbles, its surface rough; the metal was undecorated, dull even as the light hit it. Even so, the fire inside burned. Holding the lantern up, the younger brother saw his sister’s face for the first time. In her eyes the reflection of flame, same as his. The joy this brough them was invariably irreplicable. Together they giggled, then laughed, then cried. Holding each other tight they continued.
As they traveled the brother lit every lantern they came across. His sister fixed the lantern, dubbing off the dirt, the moss. She cleaned the stone on which it lay, she straightened the pole on which it hung. Soon they met other people, sharing with them the fire from the brother’s lantern. The further they walked the more lanterns they found, the more people they met. Despite it all, they had yet to meet anyone who knew the fate of their parents. Continuing this way for a year, they entered their first city.
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In the city everyone had lanterns. No place was unlit day or night. It was in that bright city that the two took apprenticeships. The girl learned the art of glass. From the molten glow she formed the delicate leaves and flowers she’d seen on their travels. Her brother learned metal smithing. He was taught how to create the frame for the very same lanterns he had lit so many times before. Together the two made a beautiful lantern, the clear glass covered in fine etchings and perfect, tiny flowers. The metal covered in meticulously shaped leaves. Attaching the lantern to a pole made of the same decorative metal, the two set off once again.
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They travelled for many years. The sister spoke to everyone learning the journeys of people from darkened lands. The brother lit their path, sharing fire with all those he met. One day they came across a large river, the boy held the lantern high so his sister could see the other side. She decided to go first, to check the path across the water so her brother would be safe. Leaving him she waded across.
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Feeling her way across she stopped as a sharp light reflected up at her from the bottom of the river. Reaching down she felt around until finding a smooth stone, the source of the reflection. Reaching her arms in she hefted the stone. In her haste she slipped falling into the rapid waters.
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Her hands gripped the stone as she tumbled around under the water. She couldn’t tell the bottom of the river from the darkness of the world her mind hazing - her grip threatened to loosen. She slipped deep into underwater caverns, the current so fast she was under the water for a mere moment before being sucked down and out into a small pond located inside a recessed cave wall.
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When she woke, she panicked. There was water all around her. Her eyes would not open, her lungs pulled in no air yet she remained aware. No one heard her silent cries, the only sound she hard being that of the water trickling around her. There she floated, her head on something hard and smooth, eyes closed unbreathing.
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Then she heard a whisper, straining she could just make out a voice asking for light. One by one more voices joined. Sometimes just one, sometimes it was many. Many things were said to her; of people’s lives, of their families, of their troubles and woes. Out of them all the thing that was told to her the most was of the people’s desire for a permanent fire. A fire that could light their life without the risk of it going out. They yearned for a light they didn’t have to feed. One they didn’t have to fear going out. Alongside all the chatter were people wishing for things. They believed she could hear them, that she could will their wishes into fruition. She couldn’t of course, all she could do was lay in the water and listen.
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This went on for years, her visitors dropping things into the water around her. They plopped in unseen things accompanied by a wish or a prayer. This went on for a long time, she tried speaking to them every time. At first to ask for her brother, after to respond to them, later to beg for them to help her out of the water.
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One day a weary traveler stopped by saying to her he’d been travelling for many years. Then, she was pulled from the water. For the first time in years her lungs pulled in breath, her eyes opened to the light of a flame encased in a glass lantern, hanging off the end of a staff. Her brother. He held her close, his arms enveloping her. He had grown since she last saw him. He never stopped looking for her, since that day by the river. Using the light of the lantern to guide him he finally heard of the sleeping maiden whose head lay upon a smooth, clear stone.
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Looking around she sees many faces. Looking back, she finds she was in a small pond of water. The water flowed crystal clear, small plants grew all around her. A smooth, clear stone reflected the lamplight. The entire pool was layered with coins. Unable to contain her joy she grabbed her brother’s hand pointing to the sky.
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She would become like fire. In the sky she would illuminate the world below so the people’s wishes could finally be granted. She’d turn all around the earth to share the light, where she was not would instead be the smooth stone. Tossing it into the dark sky she declared it would reflect her light so even the nights would not be unlit. Grabbing the coins she tossed them up too. Turning to her brother she pointed after them; he who had never stopped lighting lanterns to light people’s paths would become the stars to guide travelers through the darkness of night.
Taking the flame from the lantern, she pulled her brother up with her. Taking their places the world was lit for the first time. She, the Goddess of Light, he the Master of the Lost. Along with the stone the three made up all the light the people needed.
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She took her place up there, a giant ball of flame surrounded by specks of light through which all travelers may find their way. She spun around the world so they would all know the light would never leave them in darkness for longer than a day.