The Mythology of Beardsgaard • VIII • The Firsts • .iv
Posted on March 19 2020
“For all we care, you could spend your life running nude through the forests and defecating on the flowers.” He chortled, spraying moustache tea into the air.”
Let us tell you a tale.
≈ I ≈
iv. The Firsts
Although there were only three speaking creatures in the realm in these early days, it was already well divided among those comfortable with silence and those who seek to fill it. “Oh my, how rude of me.” he continued. “Let us introduce ourselves. My name is Angolon, this is El. We seem to have...er...made you.”
Daechir’s blazing violet eyes flashed toward Êl, who was made of nebulous shimmering light the color of grass reflecting off clear blue water. It studied him, but did not speak.
“WELCOME.” said Angolon in a tone of eager formality. The Shadow Lord’s attention returned to the grizzled man before him.
Angolon continued, “We will admit, we are not exactly sure how this is supposed to go. When I woke, I sort of just buggered off, built a tower and began to try to make sense of this world.” He took a sip of his tea, wiggling his lips to fit his grand moustache around the mug. When he replaced it on the table, it dripped.
“So you could certainly do something of that nature if you like, although who are we to tell you what your purpose is, yes? For all we care, you could spend your life running nude through the forests and defecating on the flowers.” He chortled, spraying moustache tea into the air. “My companion, my creator, has done this once before, greeted a new being, you see. This is my first time.”
The Valar was admittedly mere hours old, but his innate sense of propriety and order led him to believe ones creator should have had some sort of PLAN for a being that they had created.
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