1The time before our understanding and records, the time when things were different. In this time people were less, the lands the very skies! - were unlike they are today, the gods walked among us, spoke to us and loved with us!2
I hear the way Men and Women speak today, of how they believe the world to be, things to work, how life is and I must constrain my laughter, my mocking I keep to myself. You see I remember how things once were, I know not how, merely that I do. My dreams take me to places that once were, things that once passed, times now buried beneath the dust of the ruins older than Time and humanity. I remember so much but overall I remember numbers! Numbers are now and always have been the centre of all things, ones and zeros whiz around and make all things, men of science would have us believe. This number is for luck, that one for bad luck, this one precipitous, this one for warning....what part of our life is not controlled in some way by numbers?3
There were twelve gods who walked among us, who created us together, it is said. There was no Creator, no Great God, no Master, rather all gods were equal and contributed each an aspect of themselves to our ultimate makeup. Fire gave us Passion and Ambition; Water gave us Emotion, Depth and Love; Air gave us Fancy, Imagination and Dreaming; Ice gave us Discipline, Detachment and Control; Earth gave us our Instincts & love of Nature........they took the Earth and shaped the first man; the Thirteenth and breathed aspects of themselves into him. They took more earth and shaped it into Woman and breathed into her different aspects; thus became the nature of Man and Woman so different. Times also were different; from what I understand the Earth orbited the Sun at a greater distance than it does today; the days and years were longer. Each day was 25 hours long, each Month 30 days long, and each year 13 months long. 390 of our days it took the World to orbit the Sun. Now the gods were 12 and had decreed mankind to represent the 13th aspect of creation. They had divided the day into two parts in their wisdom; for the Night and Day were somehow (I cannot claim to understand now how) of equal length; of 12 hours each, and one god watched over men for an hour at a time; for the world was a much more dangerous place then. Now the sharper among you will realise that I said earlier that the days were 25 hours long? Ah you are paying attention! Well we have 12 gods who watch for one hour through daylight; one hour at night, which makes 24? Well, between Day and Night there was the 13th hour, the hour of those creatures which made the world a much more dangerous place back then! Today the names of these creatures survive as legend and myth but back in this past time they thrived in the darkness which separated night from day; the Thirteenth hour. They preyed upon us and dragged us into darkness if we strayed away from the lights the gods had set.4
You see the gods set around the lands were humans lived twelve hills of equal height, at the summit of each a simple stone chair which faced outward, upon each chair a god sat, beside each chair a light each of individual hue burned eternally. Each day and each night the gods would climb their hill in turn and seat themselves to watch over their creations. All day and all night their twelve lights would burn inexhaustibly; their brilliance keeping the darkness at bay. Or so it should have been but it did not remain so. You see the dark nightmare creatures were created by the gods too. Twelve hills, twelve lights and twelve gods made an unbroken circle, one eternal side without end or beginning. A circle without depth or thickness. Now as I said the world is ruled Numbers. If you listen to scientists of today the most important numbers of all are 1 and 0; positive and negative; off and on; up and down; black and white; darkness and light. The most fundamental rule of science was simple; for each thing which occurs there is an exact but equal opposite. Two circles, a small thickness apart make a coin; light makes one side, darkness another and sandwiched between lie humans, subject to both yet powerless to separate themselves from either. Now humanity represented what the gods consider the Perfect Number; 1 being the number of light, 0 the number of darkness; humanity being the 13th creation made 12 plus one the light of the gods plus the number of light itself; so they were not desirous to see a single human harmed or hurt; especially not killed. Yet they had to be Fair to all creation upon the Earth. So they divided Time further. The Cycle was made, 12 years of light uninterrupted and one year made different. One the final day of the 13th month of the 13th year between one cycle and the next, the darkness lasted all night long. In the first period between cycles the horror was beyond imagining, the wanton destruction and killing by the nightmares beyond my ability to describe......I awake screaming more often than I can count with images of it in my mind. That night fully one third of the human race either died or simply vanished. When the day dawned and light returned, the gods climbed their hills together, somberly and nervous; for they feared greatly what the consequences of their actions would be. My dreams tell me that their tears created twelve new rivers at the foot of each of their hills; their cries of anguish filled the world from one end to the other; their agonies rent mountains and the very heavens apart. Their pain was indescribable and beyond the ability of anyone to recount. Fearful and anxious, people gathered in each of the twelve human settlements and all decided to choose a representative to approach their nearest god and ask their aid. In concert the gods decided upon a course; each of the 12 representatives and each of the gods gathered at the very centre of the lands, equidistantly between each of the 12 seats of the gods and sat in conclave. For 12 times 12 days and nights they sat upon the earth in discussion. The gods prostrated themselves before the 12 humans in a display of grief and contrition, their apologies deep and genuine, they sought to comfort their most beloved creations. But, once the reason for the terror was explained, the humans grew angry with the gods, whom they had always trusted and respected most fully. They felt betrayed and rightly so, the gods agreed, unsure of what to do, how to treat all life they had created equally. For twelve times twelve nights more they argued and fought. Then one of the representative stepped forth; for some reason eleven of the twelve settlements had sent a man to meet the gods, who were neither man nor woman; yet the 12th settlement sent a woman. She was named Celine and in her many years she was wise. She reasoned with the gods and asked them not what they thought they should do but what they could do, what would be permitted to be done without obviously showing more favour to mankind than to the other races. From the other eleven people this drew anger greater still, insults were flung, threats, curses. For twelve times twelve days and nights more they argued and fought. Finally the gods asked the people to leave them so they could think clearly and without distraction. For twelve times twelve days and nights they sat together in the most serious of discussions they had ever had, not since they allowed each dangerous creation to remain in existence, had they discussed anything more seriously. How could they keep the nightmare creations from wiping out every man, woman and child on the earth without breaking their most most sacred of covenants; that nothing living may be killed except by time itself? Not even the gods could destroy that which had been already created. Altasheth, thou shalt not destroy was their greatest word. After their discussions reached this pass, they called the humans back and shared with them their dilemma. No god could show favour to one race and disfavour to another. No god could protect humans from other life. To protect one, they must destroy another. Although the nightmare creatures had indeed destroyed human beings, this was their nature, not intent or direct plan, for they were more animal than human. For twelve times twelve further nights they discussed what could be done until finally Celine stood forth and asked the most pertinent question; what could humans do that the gods could not?5
So for yet another period of twelve times twelve days and nights the solution began to take form. For the race of humanity was the 13th creation. The 13th month of the 13th year could be theirs by right, the 13th watch would be theirs, if so they chose. The gods would sit in their places, facing outward and not looking back with eyes closed tight, and let humans look both in and out from inside their lands. So it came to be that the twelve settlements of humankind set to work. In the exact centre of lands they raised a structure of twelve sides, twelve steps of twelve feet high stacked one atop the other, with a thirteenth step upon them all, a seat in the centre thereof. Four years had passed and the great labour of building took 8 years more. The second cycle was ending and the 13th year had come again. It was decided that only one human could sit in the chair at the summit of the tower that long and dark night, so they must select who from the 12 settlements would have either the honourable or dangerous task of becoming the watcher. Who could act as the eyes of the silent gods through the dangerous night and keep the lights burning. The original twelve met at the foot of the tower and tried to choose who among them would stand guard that night, which came closer and closer with each word spoken. It was obvious they they should each take a turn for their settlements trusted them enough to select them to have spoken to the gods, so they were chosen already, but who should be First? Celine was seen as the ideal choice, for she had discovered the solution which could be their salvation. But she was adamant that she could not do what they asked, for she was older now by twelve long years than she had been when they first met the gods and was much too old, nowhere near strong enough to protect all of human life. One would come after her who could fulfill the task better. Finally it was by simple lot that they decided who the first would be, and so it was Decided. Each cycle, each of the remaining eleven took their turn to watch through the long night of darkness and hold the demon nightmares at bay. For eleven long cycles the chosen sat throughout the long dark night and kept the god-lights burning brightly. On the dawning of the first day of the new cycle they would descend the human sized steps down the side of the tower facing their settlement slowly, walk back to their homes as if in a dream and refuse to speak of what had passed that night. They were forever changed by whatever it had been and they Godspeakers, as they came to be known, soon realised that no one of them could watch again. They met one night and spoke to Celine, realising that a way of selecting new watchers must be found. She was now ancient though remained sharp of mind and wise. The simplest way, she said, was to watch once more, but within their own settlements and choose one who would be strong enough to bear that which they had borne when the time came. Alas for the cupidity of Man though for, before they could decide beyond doubt, ancient Celine died in her sleep and her wisdom was lost. It was finally decided, together with her replacement from her settlement, that the eldest child of each original watcher would inherit the task of their father, even more in error, all twelve men decided that because Celine, the only woman of the twelve Godspeakers, had not fulfilled her sacred duty of watching because of her own weakness she confessed such herself! - that no woman should, for only a man could be strong enough to endure the things they had witnessed and still refused to discuss, even among themselves. Thus it came to pass that the eldest son of each original watcher should take up his father's responsibility, his son to do the same after and so onward. If it came to pass that, for whatever reason, there was no eldest son (had the man been cursed with only daughters or his wife barren), then he would adopt a boy from among his settlement as his chosen son, to watch instead. Thus the Godspeakers became Watchers, became a priesthood. Men were raised above women in importance and, though the gods looked down from their seats in disgust and shook their heads sadly, they had sworn not to interfere, to let the humans decide and to abide by their decisions. The years passed, the cycles went by, and time went by. Humans endured and grew in numbers. 6
But as is well known more is not necessarily better; quality is oft preferable to quantity. People forget and sacred duty becomes a chore. People soon forget what really matters in order to replace it with things which seem to. The God Speakers became legend, nobody alive remembered who they were, even that they were just normal people like us, only more true to their beliefs than most of us can be. They were known of only in stories and tales....nobody really took them that seriously anymore. Amazingly, considering how humans are, the people still Watched, the end of every Cycle came and one person (still a man, some things really do not change) ascended the tower and sat watch through the night. Only now it was no longer the worthy as it was originally understood who climbed the sacred steps and took the 13th seat, not even the children or even the apprentices of the original worthy anymore. No, now it was those who were worthy as men understand the word, the rich and influential, no longer the pure of heart and mind; the strong-willed.....you know those whom the gods themselves actually chose....ones who actually cared. Not to be any form of elitist or some such discriminatory kind of individual but there are some things where it is too important to ensure the right person carries out the task rather than making the choosing fair to all or open to those with the greatest amount of gold! But gold it became which decided who it was who ascended the twelve great steps of that twelve-sided tower that last long night of every thirteenth year of the calender. Of course those who were chosen indeed no longer understood why they climbed the steps on that night of all nights nor did they care about anything but the status they would gain and the gold they would receive in the future because of it. Sometimes they no longer believed in the gods! But they climbed to the summit, whatever the reasons, they sat in the chair, not truly knowing why, but they climbed and they sat. That is what really mattered when you got down to it, that the gods had a mind to touch and eyes through which to see. It mattered and it was enough barely for long enough. But of course this is a story I am telling you here and, if everything had remained just fine for ever, there would be neither need to tell the tale, nor purpose in doing so. So, seeing as you know what to expect, allow me to elaborate.7
There was a boy, not quite yet a man in mind though almost so in years, whose father was a great and worthy (you know my feelings on this matter) merchant of gems and precious stones. This father, one Geraint, was master of the Guild of Merchants for three consecutive years and much lauded was he for this honour. His son, or protagonist, was named Mendrick and he was (as is to be expected in tales) fair of face and form, much desired by eligible young ladies of the town where he lived, incidentally called Cliostheim. Mendrick was chosen by the priests of the Twelve Towns, news which pleased his father greatly though, of course, surprised him not at all. It had been arranged as these things had always been (well, few but I know this), between his father, the priests and a large donation to the church. Mendrick was chosen and very proud indeed of his choosing. He strutted about, more puffed up even than usual, he boasted, he bragged, he lorded it over those less worthy than he. He threw parties for his friends (otherwise known as people less wealthy than he and either afraid of his father, or keen to bask in his reflected glory) and both ate and drank to excess in the days and weeks leading up to the Year End Festival. Mendrick spent a great deal of his father's money and did so in style. Alas but Mendrick was one of those to whom the gods were no more than legend. They rarely, if at all, descended from their high seats in these latter days; some said they were disgusted by what Man had become, how he had fallen away from good and wholesome ways; others said that they knew that something was about to happen. Both groups were right, both were also wrong, though neither completely. Mendrick belonged to neither group, there is a great and, in my opinion, accurate saying which applies to this situation the truly rich don't need to think, they can pay people to do it for them. Mendrick did not think and, seeing as he paid people to do most things for him, it came as a surprise to almost everyone that he did not pay someone to Watch for him. But no, Mendrick wanted to Watch for himself; he wanted something his father had not gave to him, this time the glory was to be his and his alone. How little slow-witted Mendrick really knew, his father bought everything, even his supposed friends.8
The night of the Year End came and Mendrick's moment of 'glory' arrived. With all due (again, I'm sure you understand my opinion on the matter) pomp and ceremony from brightly-dressed priests and worthies, all lining the processional way to the side of the tower which faced Cloisheim. Over the years many things had changed in Twelve Towns, the priesthood being the greatest of these changes. They spoke for the gods, the gods no longer spoke to the humans in person as it were, they interpreted, they translated, they decided what the people needed to know and controlled any information and knowledge which would allow the people to think for themselves. Why the gods allowed this I remain uncertain, they must have had their reasons, they always do, and they chose to remain silent, whatever their reasons. They knew nothing of whatever it was that disquieted the gods, no-one knew until it was too late. But I get both ahead of and away from myself. Through the procession Mendrick walked, maidens tossing flower petals in his path, songs of praise and celebration rang out from the throats of children. Music flew from uncountable instruments, prayers from innumerable mouths. Menrick soaked up every last iota of it, and loved every second! He arrived at the the foot of the steps, twelve human-sized steps for each of the twelve great ones, where twelve priests awaited him. Now you may think that my opinion of the priesthood is less than salubrious and you would mostly be correct. For the most part they were conceited, often misguided, at worst liars, though not always intentionally. However in one thing at least they were 100% correct; that the gods rarely did anything separately but always in concert; they made the world together, they made mankind together, they protected mankind together. The twelve priests spoke and sang together. It was always a beauty to behold and to witness, impossible to imagine how human beings could achieve such unity and harmony but they did and for this I always have and always shall salute them! They spoke to Mendrick, twelve voices becoming one voice, ringing in tune, just for a moment, with the very harmony of the universe. Mek nar kala ek gala! they sang as one, at the threshold of the portal of harmony I stand. Mendrick, well schooled as a dolt can be answered as we right Gak mekalla ek nukala we at harmony's gateway I wait, a penitent. His every word a lie but still the right words, which is all that really mattered. Now the ceremony; the challenges of the priests and the responses of the Watcher numerous and continuing for a long period of time, too long for me to in good conscience fully recount , suffice it to say that they were the right words, the important words which achieved the all-important effect required. It was soon enough over and Mendrick climbed the twelve times twelve steps to the top of the twelve-sided tower to seat himself between the twelve gods of his people. Significant numbers, I am sure, but more significant still were one to know that twelve Cycles made a Great Cycle and that which was about to end was the twelfth such Great Cycle; about to begin was the 13th. He climbed the steps, looked around him as every Watcher since the very first does, at the twelve motionless figures sat around him and the panorama of all the lands spread all around, undeniable all in it's majesty as it is in the setting sun. He sat down slowly, turned to face each god in turn, and settled in his place as the sun set, before watching the lights of the people below fade away into the distance as they sought the safety of their homes for the night. When he next looked up the sun and all of the stars were gone. The long darkness had begun. 9
Now stories abound of what happened up there on the mount that night. None who knew would speak of what they had experienced up there, those who had never experienced it spoke of it at length and in great detail as is usual but the truth is that nobody knows. Perhaps the gods know, maybe they saw or somehow perceived something of the events which took place but, if they did, they remain silent on the matter as is their wont. Nobody you would want to ask perhaps is a more accurate representation of the truth. But we shall get back to that point later on. What everybody knows is this; around three hours after Mendrick had ascended to his seat atop the temple that night, to watch over his fellows during the long night, he ran down it screaming and, in his panic stumbled, fell and died of a broken neck. Nobody saw this happen, everybody was inside behind locked doors, in uneasy sleep, praying silently that the night pass quickly, the nightmares pass them by one more this Cycle and life go on as is good. Nobody saw Mendrick fall to his death, that long night in the dark but they all heard the result of his sacred oath to Watch being broken. They all heard the nightmares scream and shriek in jubilation. They all heard the sound as like the very world ending. They all heard the gods' cries of dismay. Those few who slept, or at least feigned sleep with some degree of success, awoke with a start. Those who cowered in the dark for fear of their own nightmares, found the nightmares to be real. All of a sudden, as happens in these cases, people realised that to scoff at some things was not, perhaps, as wise or as discerning as they had previously thought it to be. It's amazing how quickly the unbeliever gains faith when the monster is, literally, at the door. Almost everyone anyway.10
You remember Seline, the only woman called by the gods that long-ago night, who had refused her time to watch as her male colleagues watched? Whose alleged indifference to that sacred duty had led to the indecision and corruption which had led to this current pass, so the gossips had said (those same ones who knew so much about those long and lonely nights watching atop the temple also). Well the gossips, pretty much everybody seems to have forgotten the words, the prophecy some now tell it, that Seline spoke that long-ago night. The reasons she gave for choosing not to watch when others considered it her rightful turn. Many believed her simply a weak old woman who shirked her duty, even that she was a coward. Seline was no coward, no shirker, I can assure you of that, let me set the record straight on this at the very least, should my tale achieve no more than that. No, Seline gave her reasons that long-ago night, and they were, as it turned out, very good reasons indeed. 11
As these things often turn out, Seline had a daughter who married and bore a daughter of her own and so on and so forth as these things happen in human lifetimes. Yet, unusually, right down the line until today, each daughter, when she married, bore a daughter in her turn, to continue the matriarchal line from Seline. People mostly were suspicious of Seline's descendants, calling them odd at best, witches at worst. Such being the way of Patriarchal society when faced with seemingly powerful women. The fact that these women bore their husbands no sons was seen as unnatural, selfish even, for Seline had refused to watch with her male colleagues and now, with the allocation of the sacred duty being passed down only the male line, it seemed to many that she continued to refuse, or at least her descendants did as they bore no sons who could take turn in watching, as Seline herself had proven that women could not be trusted with such important matters. But, although her descendants were mistrusted, even regarded with a degree of fear or misgiving, daughters married and became mothers of their own daughters and the line continued uninterrupted. At the time of Mendrick's unfortunate death, Seluna was the sole descendant of her line, living alone in a small cottage in the same of the Twelve Towns where Selene had been born herself, some said the same cottage in which the woman herself had lived. Her mother had died a year before and Seluna had taken to staying alone in her cottage, a short distance away from the settlement, within a small wood, where she kept goats, some chickens and a very portly old pig. She also kept a small garden where she grew herbs from which to make medicines and remedies for those of the settlement who sought her out for such. She was considered weird, but bearably weird, usefully weird because many a difficult childbirth would have ended in tragedy were it not for her; many a mother, babe or even both may have died. Many an old Gammer or Gaffer would have spent their final years more comfortably because of her ointments, salves and preparations. Also, for someone who was so expert in the rigours of childbirth and mechanics of married life, she refused herself to marry; the line of Seline may well die with her. But, although she was past normal marrying age for the time, she was far from old, she just chose not to marry yet she told anyone who took the time to ask, of which there were few. She said she was waiting though she never actually said what she was waiting for, people simply assumed, as people do, that they knew what she meant, the obvious. But the obvious is more often than not misleading, the truth we assume is so rarely the truth as it really is. Seluna was indeed waiting, but not for the arrival of Mr. Right; no she was waiting for something else entirely. One could say, with the very blackest of humour, that she for the departure of Mr. Wrong. Thus, on the night of Mendrick's unfortunate departure from this world, and the imminent departure of so many more, Seluna was not in panic, she was not surprised, she was afraid but not cowed, she was waiting and she was ready. She remembered her distant ancestor's words, her promise, her alleged prophecy.12
Selene's words were simple, concise and hard to misinterpret unless one tried very hard; which is what most of the men who heard it managed to do quite well. She would not watch, nor would any issue of her womb or line, not yet, but when the time came. Not until men realised that women can be equals, needed, important, would any issue of her line watch. But when needed and called to help, one would step forth and answer.
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