War in Heaven
Galaxies swirled
In Aeon's dark womb
Their giant wings o'erspread
Hu'un's own tomb
Ere daylight did break
Or the stars took their form,
Ere the firmament was made
Or the bright comet a-born
Did Ixcthu Himself
By the word of his voice,
Weave the fabric of Yrunn
Bequeath creation its choice.
- from the oral tradition of the ???, later written in the Book of ???
Anaphim, son of the morning, departs from Ixcthu's habitation by the Gate Which Shall Not Ever Remain Open. His heart is full of joy, as he has just led the angelic host in a worship chorus to Ixcthu, one that seemed more heartfelt than any in recent memory.
Anaphim's company of angels have great reason to rejoice, as they occupy an exalted office as administrators of the new world Ixcthu has created for them all - Yrunn. It is to Yrunn that he is now destined, travelling at the speed of (a god's) thought.
The ethereal body he inhabites would be impossible for human eyes to bear. He is brilliant as the morningstar (hence his name), and embedded with instruments with which to make musical worship to Ixcthu. He is unbound from the strictures of the physical universe - gravity, time, temperature; length, breadth and space, they have no hold on him.
He can as easily pass through the flaming path of the comet as materialise - immovable - to stop it in its path. His power was (and remains, let the reader understand) immense. Though not infinite.
His frame still echoing with the praise of the worship chorus, Anaphim enters Yrunn's orbit like a shooting star, decelerating through the heavens with wings spread abroad. As he dashes through the clouds - the night-black sky and starry background having given way to the red-violet of the upper atmosphere then the pink of early sunrise - his body begins to take a form visible to the human eye.
From this height the orbital perfection of blue-green Yrunn, uncorrupted (and unfrosted with cloud, as the waters of the earth are yet divided into a superatmospheric canopy and a body of seas much smaller than those of centuries future) is a marvel to look upon.
Anaphim's company of angels have great reason to rejoice, as they occupy an exalted office as administrators of the new world Ixcthu has created for them all - Yrunn. It is to Yrunn that he is now destined, travelling at the speed of (a god's) thought.
The ethereal body he inhabites would be impossible for human eyes to bear. He is brilliant as the morningstar (hence his name), and embedded with instruments with which to make musical worship to Ixcthu. He is unbound from the strictures of the physical universe - gravity, time, temperature; length, breadth and space, they have no hold on him.
He can as easily pass through the flaming path of the comet as materialise - immovable - to stop it in its path. His power was (and remains, let the reader understand) immense. Though not infinite.
His frame still echoing with the praise of the worship chorus, Anaphim enters Yrunn's orbit like a shooting star, decelerating through the heavens with wings spread abroad. As he dashes through the clouds - the night-black sky and starry background having given way to the red-violet of the upper atmosphere then the pink of early sunrise - his body begins to take a form visible to the human eye.
From this height the orbital perfection of blue-green Yrunn, uncorrupted (and unfrosted with cloud, as the waters of the earth are yet divided into a superatmospheric canopy and a body of seas much smaller than those of centuries future) is a marvel to look upon.
posted by Aenophan at
6:20 PM
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