Welcome to the blog of Ron Leighton, Fantasy Author

Join me in the Shining Lands where gods, giants, werewolves, vampires and bears are real. (Oh, and I may share my art once in awhile so it doesn't get lonely in the portfolio.)

The Song of Brása and Velos - A Creation Story

A thought formed in the All and soon it turned as two lamps in a tumult.
Thus was born Aito, who is essence, and Manta, wisdom.
And as Aito slept in her embrace, Manta dreamt beauty ere beauty was.
Her dream was an egg and it was shaped of the clearest glass. The egg splintered open and there in a shape of dark splendor yet streaming also with light, was she, and her name was Brása, who is the dear one, and she is the Earth. In her perfection, Brása was elation and from her delight there came a song, which was like a sunburst in an unlit vastness.
Meditating on Brása’s beauty and helpless to perceive all of her perfection, Aito wished to roam the dawn world. His wish then was born the wolf-god, Velos, whose silver coat glimmered amidst the veils. And the first foot to tread in mud was that of Velos. The first eye to look upon the ancient wood was that of Velos. The first breath drawn in Brása’s presence was that of the wolf-god, Velos.
And Velos’s wandering in hunt of Brása’s secrets was itself a matter of beauty. And as he wandered the world and marveled at her, his song met her song and from their blending a fire was lit in Brása’s belly and soon forth came all manners of beasts and growing things, so that the beauty of the world swelled until even Manta and Aito were astounded to hushed consideration.
Then Velos came upon all the pristine places and sat even upon the windy height and drank with his fine senses all there was to drink; his adoration was his prayer. In this way, was he struck still yet again and would sing another song. Yet there was no song on this occasion by which to praise Brása as his heart wished.
But then, as no words came, Velos found a strange thing in his throat! It was a howl and it grew out from his wolfen lips, echoed across the wilds and filled all the hidden places, the quiet places, with its insisting call, rising up even to the impossible summits. And the howl was a howl filled with such longing and devotion Brása could not but summon Velos to her embrace once again, enclosing his love by her own.
In a little while again, yet another thing grew in Brása’s belly, a bright soul that lit her from within like a silver fish in the sweet waters. Brása and Velos wondered at this and circled in one another’s embrace, awaiting the secret they had conceived.
When after a time Brása let from her womb a child, it was a pretty maiden that came forth and her face was possessed of a silver light – the very Moon was she – and she rose to the night sky and sat upon its silken net, taking into her heart all the sounds of the night, all the prayers of beasts and men and of the trees and stones and waters, too.
By those whose love made her, this maiden was called Baláva and by the lamp of her heart that shone in her face she lit the night and all souls that looked upon her were cheered and the night for this reason was less dreadful to Brása’s children.
And all those with fine hearts, especially the sons and daughters of Velos, adored the light of Baláva, the Maiden Moon.
After these days came the Sun.

(Copyright 2011 Ron Leighton)