Click here to read The Creation of Ildathore.
The Creator called Man “Dahn” saying: “As you were first, so you shall be called,” and he named Woman saying: “Ila, for, as she is graceful; so shall she be called.” And he said to them both, “Be free to weave light, Dahn, Ila, exploring. But should you use it for anything but that, your gifted hands will be taken away.”
So Dahn and Ila created all living creatures, except for Bethoch and his kindred, who had been interspersed across Ildathore. And all creatures, from the smallest ant to the largest lion, turned to Dahn and loved him, being content. All but one. One creature who looked on him with envy: Bethoch, first of beasts, created by the Creator. The sapphire in his belly turned red, dark. His eyes looked on with envy. And he looked at his claws, so clumsy, so… so… A smile crept upon his face. Deadly.
Ila had a son, and she called him Ilahn. And when Ilahn was young, only four passings of age, Bethoch espied the young boy playing in the night, sewing with shimmering threads. His anger doubled, and rage ‘oer took him, so that he flew down, and took Ilahn in his claws, flying off before the eyes of the boy’s mother, Ila.
Silver green eyes shone with tears as she watched her child be taken away. Nothing could she do but cry for her husband. But she needed not, for as her lips parted and she took in breath, Dahn swept past in all his fury, running faster than any had ever run before. In his eyes a fire burned… a vengeance.
The Creator be cursed for creating such a beast! Dahn’s thoughts ran faster than his legs. The moon’s overhead shone their light, which glinted off the emerald plates of Bethoch. Such beauty gone to waste! His toes pushed down through the soft grass, digging holes in in the spongy turf. And my son… his blood will be on your hands “Oh Maker.”
In his anger Dahn pulled from the light, he drew about himself a cloak of reflection, turning away any color. He then extended his left hand letting a silver strand become sharp. As the dragon’s claws do take my son, so will this… dagger take your life, Bethoch, and the life of your offspring. He watched as the beast flew up to a mountain, alighting on the edge of a cave. There he saw it throw down his son, letting the frail head crack.
Bethoch landed in front of his mate, dropping the limp form in front of her. He flexed his shining claws, now streaked red. I found the reason for my gift from the Creator…
Bethochess stepped back, shielding her two children from the great beast. Her beautiful eyes had never beheld him in such a state.
Gelidor, green like his father, and larger of the two young bethochs, stepped from beneath his mother’s wing, sniffing the dead body. Father? he asked, eyes sparkling as emeralds. Did you bring it to eat?
The great Bethoch smiled, lowering his head to the level of the young beast. If you wish, but I get his-
You monster! Bethochess stood tall, holding her neck high, in strength and confidence. Your sinews were woven from light, and you turn to darkness. You spit on the very Creator, your Lord-
I am my Lord! As am I yours! spouted the emerald creature. His silver blue love only swallowed… but held firm.
You have killed a child of Dahn… you have broken the creation… that means your name is-
“Dragon!” They both turned to see a dark figure striding forth. His cloak falling to the ground in a pool. As he passed through the entrance the all moonlight was blocked out, only the glowing eyes of those around shone light, until the cloak fell away revealing the wrath of man. “You took my son, you took his light.” A dagger of shining silver lit in his hand. The brilliance so piercing you could only stare at it.
Lifting a hand Dahn took strands of light from the stone and reformed it, closing it in on the beats… all but one. The little bethochess had been hidden under her mother’s wing… she’d trusted, and stayed back, fearing evil. She had been revolted by the dead body. And now she was helpless. Pulled from the grasp of the great Bethochess.
The dragon roared, and his wife shrieked. The Emerald Prince, Gelidor, set every strength against the light… but to no use.
Such a lovely little creature, shimmering in silver blue in the light of the moon, wept in the presence of such dark hatred. Her eyes pierced the night, but her voice was not heard. She watched the dagger slide forth, parting her scales, but made no sound, staring up into the face of man. May my death be to your healing.
The cold edge touched her heart, scattering the light, and the blue touch of fiery life blew out.
For the second time that night, a mother mourned for the life of her child. And as the moon reached its highest point, every creature stopped at the sound of Bethoch screaming, before his final breath.
And Ila grieved. When Dahn walked back with the dead in his hands, she rushed forward taking him to her breast. More tears fell that night than the drops of the sea… then the Creator came down.
Dahn… what has been done this day? The death of Bethoch and his daughter?
Feeling dark, and draped in death, before such a presence, the man had no reply, bowing his head. But Ila, in rage, did stand, her face stained with grief and anger.
“You took my child! I lost my boy to your creation! What right have you to question us so?!”
The world flashed, indescribably so. Light filled their very minds of so that neither had the will to stand. Both trembled and fell to their faces.
I am The Shaper,
You are my clay.
Unto you did this I not say?
And also to Ila my daughter,
That anything other than weaving,
Would bring this gift to its leaving?
Now I do take it,
No longer it’s yours.
Away from you this power pours.
All dimmed once again, falling from a light it ever held. Dahn’s hands lost their golden hue, as did Ila’s their silver glow.
Both wept, and Ila spoke. “On this land was my heart split in two. Because of such I shall call it Vanya.”
And so happened The Downfall of Man, though not without hope. For as each held the other in their arms, and tears fell together, a tree grew to the side. A tree with a fruit. A tree from the Creator.
Written by Bethel and Buddy J.
Edited by The Flabbits
Copyright © 2018 by The Flabbit Room
Before the beginning there was not nothing. The Indescribable was there, Whose vast pleasure it was to create time and space. These He created as a labyrinth of light, complex in beauty, full and blinding. But not only such things did He create, but someone to explore them.
The man. Being woven from strands of silver and gold, his hair was alight and eyes seeing. Life flowed through him in majestic grace.
But the light surrounding was too great for him to comprehend. And turning in every direction he saw only labyrinth. So The Indescribable pulled a strand from every weave and formed a path; An endless path for the man to follow, endless so he could explore the glory forever.
The start of the path was a great globe, holding light in such a way as is understandable by the man.
And spoken to the man was this, “It is called Ildathore, It is Our Meaning. I give you reign to tame it, explore it, and find whatever you may find. Study the weaving of light.”
Looking down at the pulsing light beneath his feet, the man said, “But where do I start?” He wondered at the beauty around him, searching for a place to begin.
Turning, the man saw the light being woven, it’s strands intertwining, forming something. At the very center, a sapphire orb jumped to and fro. Around the sapphire was created a wall of armor scales, boasting emerald light. Legs and forelegs extended, and the creature stood up showing its strength. Opening a great mouth, the beast roared, and wings spread from its back.
The beast knelt before man, and his Creator spoke.
“This is where you may start, go forth in the beautiful, and weave.”
Man closed his eyes. He nodded and opened them. Speaking to the beast, he said, “Bethoch you shall be called. And first of all, I give you a place to rest.” So he went to his knees on the sphere of light and beauty, and set his hand down. The light began separating, each weave of color was rewoven, letting it hold a beauty of its own. The man took a single thread, and formed it into a plant. Then kneeling down, he whispered to it and, as the power of the creation flowed through his words, it grew, covering the orb in many different shapes and colors. Still on his knees, he pulled up a small patch of plant, called grass, and sees the light under it.
Reaching forth again the man touched a different thread and turned it to hard rock, silent, yet lively. Ever pushing and shifting. But between the rock and the grass he wove a layer of dirt.
And turning back to Bethoch he said, “I give you this place called dirt, to be your bed. Now go to stretch your wings.”
Bowing, the beast turned and leaped into the air, letting wings of beauty carrying him on what came about as wind. And as man watched the beast go, he saw the sky darken, but not before small lights were placed up. A light breeze blew, and he realized he was watching the creator at work again, forming the universe beyond his reach. But when this happened, a joy lit up in him. In the beauty of night, man grasped more light and began weaving it. He turned about, finding delight in weaving beasts of all kind, naming them, and setting them loose, as the rocks grew together, setting forth land, and the dirt created beds, covered in springy grass.
The man then turned about, looking to tell someone of his joy, but every beast was not as he. None could man create to be as he. So turning back to the creator, man called out, asking for another creature to be with him, one to sense as he did, one to live in accordance with, exploring. And from behind came a voice…
“Delightfull… All of it is.”
And upon turning about, man was speechless. His request was answered, but in a way he never imagined. Everything her gaze fell on, was covered in a grace and loveliness. Creatures softened, and love filled them. A graceful substance called water filled parts of Ildathore. Love for their weaver, and his mate.
Locking eyes with man, she spoke again. “Here I am to share in the beauty, weaving alongside you. Forever we shall be in unison; one heart, and one will.”
And thus was the creation of Ildathore.
Written by Buddy J.
Edited by The Flabbits
Copyright © 2018 by The Flabbit Room
Welcome to The Flabbit Blog! Here you will find writings by the many members of The Flabbit Room, most of which will be set in the world of Ildathore.