The Place Where Stars Fell

Bone Upon Bone, Child of Children
The Place Where Stars Fell > Bone Upon Bone, Child of Children

Walking With Joy

I gnawed upon bone and juicy flesh of my mother before Deep flowed Joy. Joy I took and Deepened to the branch to walk for me, walked with Joy and far through forest, crashing trees, to Ill Will.

Beneath Ill Will I learned of weakness. Beneath Ill Will I learned tearing and screaming before gnawing. Beneath Ill Will I learned hunting of the people who cast out Children of Children.

The Stars fell to the Land and the Giants sighed the Deepness to new ways. I walked with Joy and far through mountains, tumbling cliffs, to Great Rage.

In the wounds of Great Rage I learned destruction. In the wounds of Great Rage I learned of strength. In the wounds of Great Rage, I grew mighty and feasted upon Hungry Dead who gnawed on the people who cast out Children of Children.

The first Star Tower fell mightily and the Land shook the Deepness to new ways. I walked with Joy and far across vales, tearing soil, to Shame. Blood to pound and surge as rivers I have not, but the blood of the people who cast out Children of Children pulled on me.

In the stare of Shame, I learned to speak. In the stare of Shame, I learned to eat of tree and root in place of flesh. In the stare of Shame I dropped splintered bones and learned of the people who cast out Children of Children.

[ Posted by Reason on March 1, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Dead Hallas, Who Carries Upward
The Place Where Stars Fell > Dead Hallas, Who Carries Upward

And Stars Came As Men Atop Beasts

The Stars of the Mountain Tower know all, for how else but sorcery to see when the Winter Sickness took me from life? Three lesser Stars came from the forest to carry Emmen and I away, shining in the form of men atop great deer of the Deepened Places of my grandfather. All shed tears save for we, the Dead, for all such of blood and heart is for the living and the Land.

The bright Star of the Lower Mountain hangs yet above the Open Hall, bright as bright, far below now and cold upon the Dead from across the Land. The Star of the Lower Mountain chose me from the Open Hall and spoke my name to the shelved skulls of the Old Dead, who do naught but count and recall. We who could as well be Hungry Dead, driven out into the forests, are honored and fortunate. We could as well be deep and far in mines beneath the mountains, not to see the Land spread before and about beneath the clouds. Our flesh has not yet fallen from us, and we will carry diamonds for new wall-tops high as is high, to the Mountain Star who fell here and now shines bright from the Tower top.

The Mountain Star will tell what will become of us, how long it will be before the Dead are guided from life by Stars once more. This, I hold and know in all the time we have climbed and carried, and in all the time we will yet climb and carry.

[ Posted by Reason on February 25, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Stood the Dead, Bartered For Their Virtues

The Stars, they send to one and another, Mountain Tower to Spider Tree Tower - we will see them though these walls of diamond, when the clouds part over the Land. Lesser stars in threes and fours fly though the forests, over cliff and vale as owl and great deer, fast as the wind.

Emmen had the touch of Deepness about him when blood and life ran through and through us both; many and much he Deepened after the ways of our fathers. The Deepness flows away from we Dead, for it is of the blood and the living. How long it was we both stood within the Open Hall, waiting to be counted, and so cold and high where the Old Dead stared.

The Star of the Lower Mountain shone bright to barter such Dead as Emmen to form webs into a Tower to reach the sky. From the Spider Tree Star are sent the strong for the dark mines and climbing. Lesser Stars of the Spider Tree came then. They shone forth long arms, legs and great webs, and carried away those who once bore blood to touch upon the Deepness.

When we come to the last step, to the Dead who build anew, when we place these many great diamonds before the Mountain Star, then I will ask of Emmen.

[ Posted by Reason on September 3, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

They Whisper of Their Lives, Over and Again

This is not the first that Tanne of the tenth step above has seen these tall steps. Her flesh would have fallen lest the Star of the Cloud Balcony had shone a hundred hands to work the sorcery of Stars. Tanne is almost faded like the Old Dead, racked and placed as skulls to whisper of their lives, over and over again.

The Old Dead do not care who listens between their duties of counting and counting again, and nor will Tanne care who listens while she climbs under sacks of rough diamond. She tells again of the Blue Rock Vale that you and I will never see, and one who caught her heart when she had blood and life to feel.

These Dead like you and I, as we climb to ask the Mountain Star what will become of us. We will recall the question if we but try, we will not be like Tanne and the Old Dead. Speak to me again of our climb, of the Stars, of this Mountain Tower of diamond and sorcery - tell me the tales that I have told you.

[ Posted by Reason on September 4, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Ennos, Touched by Radiance
The Place Where Stars Fell > Ennos, Touched by Radiance

The Voice of Radiance

It took a time, a time to find the right place. Yes, but such an idea I had for raising the roof and walls! That is how I knew it was right, the Radiance and the need in once and the same day, all so obvious, so obvious. Jel has the view above the trees and across the vale, and he is happy.

The tools from then, no, I do not know. I cannot recall the use of them even; on days the Radiance comes and is gone just as quickly. Some have ways of remembering, or recallers by their side - but often as not who can understand later what they understood when Radiance shines? This as close as I will be to the Radiant Places further upstream, and Jel will tell you of carrying me away from there in a fever in a past time. I hear Radiance all the time, even here, like distant whispers instead of warmth from a fire - warming the blood but not the skin.

Look at this now; so obvious! Not like the last, when I knew the purpose but fleetingly, as in dreams, or that before, when I could not even catch the crafting of it. Bring yourself here, see how you'd hold it and ... there, is that not splendid? It is just as it was whispered to me, and I have it still.

[ Posted by Reason on February 26, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Lamenting Fickle Radiance

You are right, I should put this aside. It is not as I had hoped - but Umon, he understood clear and well when I explained the short of it that morning the rain fell on the upper slopes. Ah, the Radiance, it brings ever more and more and I cannot tell what was, what is and what of my blood or shining from the Radiant Places! Yes, to the side with this, with all the others.

Sometimes I doubt this is the place, I do, Jel. Look across to the far slopes, to the huts of Sephen and her kin - see, something blue and red and from the Radiance that was not there but two nights before. She has the ear of those who live here, and when was that last true for you and I? Not since I showed the Radiant way to charm a tree to cry and bend, not since I showed the Radiant way to cut stone limbs to support old legs. I taught both to twenty, twenty times over last summer, but who remembers either now?

Ah, there's no use to it, none at all. Not since Panno talked of a record of all things and set forth to make it - I cannot understand the half of what is done and built downslope by the river. I am becoming as the old people who remembered the forests and caves and complained of everything.

[ Posted by Reason on March 20, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Felbled, Yeoman of Caravans
The Place Where Stars Fell > Felbled, Yeoman of Caravans

Across the Land

I came from the Deepened Places of the people when I was young, from forests of sight to Misery's slumped back beyond cloud and mist. The Stars fell to the Land before I was Deepened from tree branch and the bones of the great deer, and the Hungry Dead grew and grew by Great Rage's tall rocks until there was no food for the people. Old and young went on a great journey to the place of Kindness, but there too was no food, and the people that were my people would not take from the people of Kindness. So the people came from the Deepened Places towards the Radiance.

It is strange that I am this, yeoman and trusted to keep Hungry Dead and dishonest hand from the caravans of Dimmos. The people were not hunters of men, for Misery flowed through the Deep and there was no Deepening of bow and club with Great Rage or Ill Will. In the Radiant places of caravans and the Land between Deep and Radiance, all made by the people has not life, is not of the blood of the people. I might cast away blade and bow and not be the lesser for it, for I have not Deepened that which I use. The people of Radiance are of a strangeness in that way, but I have become like them.

The caravans of Dimmos journey close to the Radiant Tree, the Enlightened Library, the Towers of Stars and the Dead - and places less known. Six times I have walked this far beside friend and companion, and seen many changed by Radiance or taken by Stars after falling to the Hungry Dead in thick forest. Yet I have not met again the people who were my people, who have melted into the Radiant Places as frost in the sun.

[ Posted by Reason on February 27, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Ways of Those Who Were the People

There is a place where those who were the people dig shining rock from a mountain and work long, lean and hard at the shaping of it. There is no Deepening in their huts and halls - and how could there be? This, the Radiance brought to them, carried from the Radiant Places by an Enlightened Tome, then flown on to the Library.

While great deer still dance in the forests there and around, those who were the people do naught but shape and shape. They give shining cubes to the people who do not forget the Deepening of bow and club, and cry out for the meat of the great deer in return. The people drop the shining cubes and we who follow Dimmos collect them when the snows fall.

It is Radiance brings such as I to the place of shining cubes in cold and frost, for Radiance spoke to Dimmos long ago. He carries back and forth across the Land, followed by a hundred casks of wonders, for such is the Radiant way of those who were the people. All must move, be carried and change - but I am but a yeoman and do not know why this must be.

[ Posted by Reason on March 10, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Thrice to the Low Vale

The way of a yeoman came to me beyond the Face of the Mountain, where Radiance must shine but lightly to give ways to the people come from the Deepened Places. After wide forest, great deer and the Hungry Dead, I came to those who once were the people and those never Deepened laying rocks upon the Land as roads. The Deepness flowed thin with Ever Wanting; when snows came, I met with Dimmos and his caravan. This, then, was the first I journeyed to the Low Vale, for such was his destination.

Then in the Low Vale, there were huts and halls built of logs of fresh soil baked to hardness in great fires. The fire keepers who were once the people flew their logs here and there atop blue leaves from the Radiant Tree beyond the Changing Gate. So it was when the Tower of the Mountain Star rose three handsbreadths when seen from the Forest of the Long River, where the Deepness flows with Kindness and the Hungry Dead are few.

Next I came to the Low Vale as yeoman to the caravan of Dimmos, two lesser Stars from the Changing Gate shone in a thousand forms and told those who were the people to build a great crevass in the Land. Their huts flew to be high in trees in that time of summer, but the halls were made of sheets of solid water, shining in the sun. The water workers kept their secrets in pride, but those who were the people turned from them to dig deep into the Land.

Last I came to the Low Vale as yeoman to Dimmos, it was with twenty dancers never Deepened, made of leather and diamond from the Fallen Tower, quick and sharp of tongue. In that time, when the Tower of the Mountain Star rose five handsbreadths when seen from the Forest of the Long River, six roads in the Low Vale were made of bark. The bark gatherers chanted trees of the Land to shed their bark, flowing as streams into a river to make their roads. The greatest arched over huts and halls as though leaping.

More of Radiance I have seen in a short time in the Low Vale than in all the journeys of Dimmos, yet this is but a dim fire beside the Changing Gate and the Radiant Places beyond.

[ Posted by Reason on March 11, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Lesser Star of the Owl's River
The Place Where Stars Fell > Lesser Star of the Owl's River

Fell From High, Fell to Fast Water

The first of all things I learned was the rushing of water, over and around, and so I was a stream within the river. For endless flickers, I lit the hasty waters, and all creation was a river.

Secondmost, I heard the cry of the great owl and learned that river flowed between rock and sky. I came from the fast waters and flickered for winter after winter as an owl to light the sparse river forest and mountain falls.

Third, I heard the blood of the people, hunters and cave painters, hut builders and Deepeners of children. I learned of Deep, of the voice of the blood, of the way of talking. I flickered as a child of the people for summer after summer, until the people hungered and left the Deepened Places.

Last of all, I heard the Radiance that once called me to fall, met the great stars who fell to Radiant Places and know all. I learned of my way as guide for the Dead - and so I came to flicker with light for the Tower of the Spider Tree Star, and so I greet you, who are now Dead and have found a secondmost learning of your own.

[ Posted by Reason on March 21, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Mas Lirren, Prime Hireling of the Enlightened Library
The Place Where Stars Fell > Mas Lirren, Prime Hireling of the Enlightened Library

In the Shadow

Step forward, step forward! No, leave that, whatever it may be; it seems entirely too ramshackle. The Library will receive you now - please press your right fingers to this, then this, and again, this. It is as the Library directs, and not ours to wonder why. Mas Rell, please take these finger-marks to whence it is that it should be taken this day.

Yes, yes, simply step into the Shadow of the Library, look up and speak clearly. Be mindful of loose rocks on the slope, now, and don't walk into a tree like the last one! No need to shout - the Library is wise and hears every word, for all it is amongst the clouds today.

No time, no time! This is not the Radiant Tree where wishes work as hard as people. We are not Stars to enlist sorcery and the Dead to do our work! Mas Rell? Mas Rell! Show this one the way, and then please examine this new folding cloth roof of yours - it is visibly sagging and rain already falls on the far side of the vale.

Where is the time counter - does she count correctly? I can barely see the far end of the queue, and the Shadow has already moved too far. I fully expect to take finger-marks for another ten before we must move tables and cabinets downslope again. More haste!

[ Posted by Reason on February 25, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Troublesome Arrivals

Really, this is most vexing. To recapitulate, the Face of the Mountain revealed to you the location of this Enlightened Tome. You traveled to the Changing Gate that faces the vale of the Tree, and there become distracted and, well, whatever it is you are. Such is the fate of those who brave the most Radiant places; just as the Library is Enlightened, so may a man become more than a man. You are certain that you were once a man prior to your present assignation?

No, I must ask these questions - no impertinence is intended. All are welcome in the Shadow of the Library, but all must be done as it is set out before us. Haphazardness in the presence of Radiance is foolhardy. Foolhardy!

Ah, but the categories, the categories. I am commended to my post by the Library, you understand, and all is as the Library wills. These circumstances ... well, normally I would be quick to commend any who guide Enlightened Tomes to join with the Library. There are rewards, as you see, Mas Rell has them well filed and indexed. I cannot pretend to comprehend the value of most, but few leave unsatisfied.

As may be, but I cannot find a category under which to record you. None at all - look here, and there, not a match. You are dripping ink, and the Tome is clearly a portion of you, no more separate than my fingers. Quite aside from your frightening of the queue, the time counter and Mas Enneth, who seems to have fallen past the cabinets and into the marsh, this is all most vexing.

[ Posted by Reason on March 6, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

A Star Crosses the Vale

Such inconvenience, and upon such a warm day! Twice in two summers now, and the far side of the marsh still showing the last visit. In all the Land, why does this Star of the Fallen Tower come to trouble the vale of the Library, hmm? Shaping and shining like a simple-hearted Child of Children - and followed by Hungry Dead who'll tear all to shreds. Of all our petitioners, why has naught seen fit to bring Radiant works to stop a Star from sorcery and the disruption of our work? Why indeed!

My, my, no. No, this will not do. We must leave this, and this, and whose is this sack? Your efforts are outstanding, even yours Mas Enneth, to my pleased astonishment, but there is simply no time! It is best to hope the Star takes the same steps as last summer, and that which we'll leave in the Shadow of the Library remains as we leave it. Look, even the rabbits run here and there, and half towards the marsh, now. Perhaps the Hungry Dead will destroy those ugly pillars of glass; perhaps the Star will not tear up the new saplings to build a great Radiant work.

Mas Rell, this is not the time for more of your Radiant foolery, and certainly not the time for this wheeled device again. It has never worked and shows all the signs of dramatic failure even while at rest. To think you took fine wood for such a thing in favor over another cabinet! Leave it with those similarly dubious materials abandoned by the queue in their haste to depart. Such efforts they undertake to bring us supposed Enlightenment, and how quick to abandon these contrivances in the face of adversity! It is not my place to judge the queue, but it is my place to judge your service to the Library, Mas Rell.

Come along! We must be up and over the hill posthaste with all of the most vital appurtenances; the Library requires it, and I am but here to speak the Library's will. Remember that whilst you labor beneath my grand table and shade, Mas Temra - more haste, more haste!

This is merely a greater, albeit steeper, occurance of our daily movement across the vale to follow the Shadow of the Library. Cease your complaints, and set to a more steadfast service, do you hear? There will be many eager to take your place as hireling to the Library when the queue returns! See how low the Library comes above to watch your labor!

[ Posted by Reason on September 9, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

A Proposal in the Manner of Dress

Mas Temra, please rouse the glowflies. They laze in the early dark, and I will need more light if I am to comprehend this lastest innovation. Not so hard! If this last glowfly cask is broken also, I will send the one who breaks as far and wide as needed to find another.

Now, Mas Rell, this business of your clothing and its quite unusual appearance this night. You have explained, and I must say that I quite fail to grasp the significance. We are all to dress the same, you say? It seems very impractical ... are those folded leaves, and is that the missing frayment from my folding shade? No, the light of glowflies is quite sufficient. I do not see this matter any improved by transportation to the fire whence the queue reposes.

Of course I understand the need for we hirelings to show our position; we have been chosen by the Enlightened Library for our dedication and perspicaciousness in the face of all that might come from the Radiant places. This is precisely why I agreed with your nomenclature of two winters past. We all bear the additional name of Mas exactly to demonstrate this point - that we are hirelings, and all should know.

My manner of speech is, as you well know, a gift of the Library - and therefore utterly appropriate to my position. Furthermore, I fail to see how it has any bearing on this matter; my countenance is hardly to be placed in the same category as any uttered contrivance brought on by Radiance. Why, if all were one and the same, what would be the need for hirelings to ajudge and organize the queued petitioners who will await their turn in the Shadow when the sun rises?

I cannot see it. The hireling name, yes, and twice yes. This uniform ornamentation of clothing to no good end, no. No, Mas Rell, you have made your case. Were you prime hireling, appointed by the Library itself I might add, matters would no doubt be different. As it is, you must accept your lot - perhaps, as before, those waiting petitioners might prove more receptive to this innovation of yours.

[ Posted by Reason on September 10, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Old Man of the Third Hut
The Place Where Stars Fell > Old Man of the Third Hut

First, Was the Deep

Give to the fire, young ones, Radiant children ... it will not warm you without gifts, for all that Deepness flows lightly here and about. Fire is not from Kindness, but from Ever Wanting - it will give you no heed in haste for what it wants. But here and about, the trees bend not to listen, craftings have no life to them, and you make children in the new ways, the Radiant ways.

Listen; I will tell what I was told, before Ill Will came to the highs and vales to drive the people from their Deepened Places, before Stars fell and the dead lost their way.

Before the Giants made the people, before the Deep eddied and turned the Giants into being, there was nothing but the Land. Deepness flowed beneath and through, as the waters, beside the waters, and far from the waters. It was the blood of the people without people, the heart of the people without people.

The Giant Kindness came from the deepest Deep flowing about the highest mountain, and so it was. Before the Giants made the people, Kindness brought forth all the others from Deepness, even Great Rage, even Ill Will, even Misery, for such is Kindness.

The Giants are of the Deep now and were of the Deep then; where they stood, the Deep flowed of them. It was of the people before the people, in vales where Deepness touched of Kindness mingled with Ill Will, Great Rage with Joy. All places are touched by the Giants, by Deepness that flows from them and with them - even places as this where Radiance changes the people.

You are far from where Kindness sits to cradle a place of the people, but Kindness and Ever Wanting touched this place before they Deepened people into the Land. This, I see in the fire, in the welcome given to the old.

[ Posted by Reason on February 24, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Children of Children

I know not what this is you have brought me, food from Radiant places beyond the forest you say? It looks as no food I know; Radiance brings too much, too fast to those who were once the people.

When the people who were my people lived in the Deepened Places, where all things were of the blood and heart of the people, it was that children were made of the flowing Deepness - just as the Giants Kindness, Joy and Ever Wanting made the first people.

Deepening a child is not as Deepening the hunting club with the touch of Great Rage or as guiding the blood and heart of the people within and around the trees that sheltered. It is a great and difficult matter, and it was for all of the people to help those who called upon the Deepness for children.

Yet there were those young who were impatient, who brought great woe upon the people. A child of these children was Deepened in a hollow place where Deepness welled, made by the fingertip of Ill Will. A thing of malice and grey, it became, driven from the fires and vales of the people, for there could be no place for it.

This was as it was, just as the Giant Ill Will drove the people who were my people from the highs and vales, long before the Stars fell and the dead were slaved to building towers to the sky.

Twisted and horrible, Children of Children slope and rage in the Deepened Places, knawing on the bones of the people, for the people who were not my people taught their children unwisely.

The Children of Children who are most like the people have learned the Deepness, and take the oldest Deepened Places for their own. The Radiance takes the people from the Land just as the Children of Children take the Land from the people - in a time, the people will no longer be the people, this much I have seen.

[ Posted by Reason on February 25, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Before the Stars Fell

The sun shines warm, and that, at least, is as it always has been. Sun and sky will always be above, as the Land will always be beneath, as the Deep flows from Radiance and yet about the Giants in Deepened Places. You have brought owl eggs for an old man, and this is kind.

On a day as this, you with the strength of youth could climb the highest mountain here and about, for snows have come and gone until next winter. Atop the peak, you would see across the Tall Forest, across the River Brothers, across the high vales, and farther yet. Farthest of all, you would see the great arm of Ever Wanting, reaching to the sky, higher even than thin towers of diamond and spiderwebs built by the Dead.

All the Land flowed heavy with the Deep before the Stars fell, before the Radiance, before the Hungry Dead, before I was Deepened by the people who painted the high vale caves and hunted thin wolves beyond the Tall Forest. When the old became too old to hunt, too old to tell the tales of the people, too old to feel the Deepness flow through the blood, then greater Stars spoke from high in the sky. The old Deepened wings from cast off feathers and leaves, from branches and reeds, and lesser Stars showed ways to fly upwards, far and upwards.

So it was before the Stars fell to the Land and forgot their way. Now the old of the people become the Dead. Now winter sick great deer become the Dead. Now wounded Radiant children become the Dead.

[ Posted by Reason on March 15, 2006 | Permanent Link ]