In the infancy of humankind, during the age in which our ancestors struggled against not only each other, but other equally fearsome beasts, the most important discovery came from the hands of a woman. She was called Zar, and through much trial and error, she learned how to start and nurse a small flame into a healthy blaze with only sticks and her hands, which no one had ever seen. She was a proto-Prometheus, stealing from gods that had not yet been named. Her partner, Qoh, often entertained the group with his own accompanying talent: the singing of stories. As they felt the heat of Zar’s fire radiating through their bones and sinew amid the icy chill, the weary crowd would listen enraptured as Qoh sang tall tales like this:

“Long ago, before even our fathers walked the earth, there was a Man. As far as he knew, he was alone in the world. One day, as he was walking through the deep forest, he came to a clearing. In the middle of the clearing was a tree unlike any he had ever seen. Its trunk was much wider than the length of a man, and looking up, he could not see the top. He decided he was going to climb it. And so he began to climb. And climb. He climbed all day. The air grew colder and harder to breathe. After many hours, the Man got close to the top. It was covered by a cloud, and he thought that he was about to touch the sky. After a time, he climbed all the way through the cloud and could see the top of the tree. Perched there was a giant Owl. It was bigger than any owl he had ever seen in the forest. It did not look scared or angry that the Man was there.

The Owl spoke to him: ‘Hoo. Hoo.’ This calmed the Man’s heart, for even though the Owl was very big, it was just like all the other owls. But he was wrong. The Owl spoke again: ‘Hoo. Who are you?’ Now the Man was very afraid, but he replied: ‘I am a Man. I call myself One, for I am alone.’ The Owl laughed: ‘What a silly name. There are many Others just like you.’ The Man did not know what the Owl meant by that, and then it asked him: ‘Why are you here?’ The Man said: ‘I want to touch the sky.’ The Owl laughed again: ‘Silly Man. You are in the sky now. You are touching it already, all around you.’ The Man did not understand this at all. Then, the Owl offered something: ‘You have climbed very far, brave but silly Man, and it will be even more dangerous to climb back down. You will surely fall to the earth and die. Would you like me to carry you?’ The Man agreed. The Owl grasped his shoulders with its claws, spread its wings, and began to fly. It flew down, down, down. At last, they reached the clearing, and the Owl gently let go. But before it went back to its nest, it said: ‘Walk straight toward the rising sun for seven days and nights, and you will find some of the Others. Be with them.’ And the Man did as he was told.”

Another of the crowd’s favorite fables was this:

“Long ago, giant creatures once ruled the Earth. There were different kinds, some with long necks who walked on four legs and ate only plants, some with horns, some with sharp teeth so they could tear into the flesh of all the smaller animals. Some were a hundred times as big as a man. Their skin was hard as stone, their blood cold, and they could cover great distances, so it was difficult to kill them. For many ages, no animal was safe from these creatures. One morning, as the Sun rose over the hills, it thought to itself: ‘It is not good that these creatures are so strong and the others so weak. I must get rid of them.’ So the Sun spoke to the Moon: ‘When you are full and shining at your highest power, call to the Stars. Tell them that one of them must do a great deed. One must fly down and crash itself into the Earth. The Star will die. It will destroy the giant creatures and many of the lesser animals, but after an age, it will restore balance. Tell them that whoever makes this great sacrifice will be reborn in glory.’

That night, the Moon told the Stars what the Sun had commanded, but none of them wanted to do it. They were afraid to die, just as things on Earth are afraid to die. The Moon saw a Star, lonely and dim, and said: ‘You must be the one to do this.’ The next day, the Sun rose red as blood. The chosen Star flew down with all its strength. It struck so powerfully that the whole Earth shook. It made a giant pit that stretched farther than the eye can see. And soon, great waves rose from the ocean that covered much of the land, and the sky was filled with darkness and poison snow. Many of the giant creatures died that day, and the rest died after. Many of the other animals died too, as the Sun had said. But after an age, the small ones began to grow larger. Some stood up on two legs and learned to speak. And now, I am one of those animals, telling you this story. As for the brave Star, you now see it as the Light of the North, the brightest and most important in the sky.”

Huddle with your loved ones around the warmth of Zar’s fire, and sing Qoh’s songs of ages past, lest both fade forever like forgotten dreams. Carry the torch until the dying breath of us all.

– Luke Shuffield