The Gemini

As Translated By

Lyriel Elhana

(Translator's Note - This is the "official" version of events as laid down by the Church of the Gemini as to the creation of the Moons from the Goddess' disgraced daughters. There are, of course, many different versions of the story. Most are treated as heretical and have been hunted down by the Church and destroyed.)

Long before the dawn of humanity the face of Kolara was covered in darkness and the old and hateful gods held sway. They battled each other for supremacy, bringing forth legions of monstrosities through which they waged eternal war. Their thundering battles twisted and warped Kolara’s smooth face, pushing up great mountains and digging out great chasms, scarring her for all of eternity.

A thousand eons passed as the gods continued their battles. Great dragons soared through the skies, their breaths of fire and lightning ripping open the clouds and brought forth great torrential rains which filled the gouges left by the infernal armies, giving birth to the great seas and oceans and rivers and lakes. The bodies of fallen behemoths crashed to the ground, ripping valleys in the soil, and pushing up hills.

As the wars seemed destined to continue on for all eternity a thus far unseen goddess awakened from her deep slumber. Aliri, the goddess of the land. She had always been, but trickery by the first of the old gods had kept her asleep throughout their long wars. When the great dragon, Mitanea was driven down by her treacherous kin and fell upon the ancient resting place of Aliri the goddess opened her golden eyes and stirred.

Aliri looked around with horror and growing anger as the old gods obliviously continued their petty battles. Golems of stone and bone battled each other in great columns, called into existence by the old gods’ ambition. Aliri turned to the dragon, Mitanea, seeing the mortally wounded and noble beast her heart swelled with compassion. Carefully sweeping the dragon up in her mighty arms Aliri caressed her scaled skin, soothing the beast’s pain and healing the great wounds she had suffered.

The great goddess lay with the dragon, sealing their bond. As Aliri turned her gaze skyward the sun broke through the swirling black smoke and clouds and the old gods knew fear. Their armies turned unblinking eyes skyward as the goddess made her presence known to them.

Mitanea, her wounds healed, gave birth shortly thereafter to twins, children of excessive beauty and nobility, the goddess Caesonia with her fiery red hair and savage temperament and the goddess Demaelia whose blue eyes and dark hair with a cold and calculating temperament to match. Eager to see Kolara return to peace, each sister brought forth an army of their own. Caesonia reached into the dark holes and crevices of the newly formed mountains and drew from them an army of dwarves, sturdy and strong as the stone that birthed them while Demaelia called upon the young forests, the woods providing her with armies of elves and dryads and faeries, swift and deadly.

With her daughters, wife, and armies behind her Aliri marched to war against the old gods, laying waste to their fortresses and armies with ruthless efficiency. Unable to contend with the might of these mighty goddesses and their formidable troops the old gods fled back into their dark underworld homes, into the cold vastness of space or fled for the planes of Hamistagan to lick their wounds and plot their revenge.

With the ravages of the armies of the old gods gone Aliri looked out over the scarred face of Kolara and wept, her tears salting the oceans and bringing the animals in the forests out from hiding. With no need for their great armies the elves were given domain over the woods, the dwarves over the high mountains and deep caves. The dryads became tenders of the rivers and streams and lakes, and the faeries brought forth the flowering plants and nursed their beauty.

For years Aliri with her wife and daughters nursed the ravaged world, soothing its wounds and tending its scars. As the years wore on and Caesonia and Demaelia were left on their own to do their mothers’ bidding feelings began to swell within them. Feelings of love and adoration. Need and desire for the other. While Aliri and Mitanea’s gaze was focused outward the daughters began to know each and the other in turn, heart, soul, mind, and body.

Soon the great palaces the two lived in atop the central mountains in the lands which would one day come to be known as Untaris rang with the cries of their children. Rinas, the son of Caesonia and Saffine, the daughter of Demaelia. Thus was the race of humanity brought into the world.

Knowing well their mothers would not approve, the twins chose to keep their children hidden, moving them to the valley of Efin deep within the wilds of Ceodris, far from their mothers’ eye. Though guilt played no role in their actions for they did not regret what they had wrought with their love, the pair set to work at their mothers’ behest, creating Sylphs and nymphs and Pixies and all the rest of the kingdom of the Fey from what their mothers had wrought. Watching with joy but little pride as their creations moved amongst the forests and rivers of the world.

For no matter how exacting and rewarding their work was, their hearts were with their own children. Finally, unable to bear the longing, the twins set their gaze upon the Efin valley and saw with a mixture of pride and growing fear that their children, their creations had multiplied many times over. They frolicked amongst the sheltered groves as they explored the world around them.

They learned to build, to farm, to thrive. But their lives were small. Barely a blink of their mothers’ eyes could flick, and a generation was gone. While the laws of nature Aliri had put in place remained steady, the Goddesses shed tears as love dwindled and rekindled, leaving those who loved others as themselves childless. Pity moved their hand and the ones who would be known as Bringers in later time were brought unto the Goddess’ children.

These Bringers, but once per woman, could bring forth a pregnancy into the mother, regardless of the sex of their chosen partner. While this caused great joy the sisters thought to bring forth the same boon unto man to free their love from the shackles of the natural order their mother had created.

It was at this time and with great fury Aliri’s gaze fell upon her daughters and she saw what they had wrought. She saw the mewling; pathetic creatures known as humans and was filled with great rage. Her daughters had gone behind her back in secret. They had challenged her authority and had bestowed life and gifts far beyond their authority.

Her rage was so great as she swept across the land toward the peaks of Untaris she rent the land in her wake, tearing apart the lands and sending them adrift upon the ocean currents to never be one again.

Her punishment was swift and merciless. She exiled her daughters and their great palaces to the heavens above Kolara and set them at opposite ends of the horizon to glimpse the other only briefly at dawn and dusk before both moved past and out of view. To love and be loved but unable to share the same sky.

Of the Twins’ children she cast them out of Efin and into the wilds, closing the way behind them, doomed to wander the lands and make their way on their own. Finally, she cursed her grandchildren. One day they would sit upon the blade of the Reaper’s scythe and only then would their mothers be able to share the same sky, if only to watch their children fall into the abyss of extinction.

Though her judgement was in keeping with the laws she had created, a great sorrow filled her heart and she wept for a year and a day, drowning much of the lowlands. Finally, unable to bear her own judgement, she turned from the world she had molded and shaped and with Mitanea by her side, fell back to her rest, the gentle sobs as she dreams of her daughters shaking the world to this day as earthquakes.