Note: I apologize for my lateness in posting this. I was caught up in wanting perfection for this story.
There once was a young man, or a horror shaped in the likeness of a young man, whose name was Hastur. He was the moon, or, in other words, his light was not his own. He had light, but it was only a light that had been taken from others, and he gave nothing of his own in return to she that had loved him. His true name, spoken only in the wild places and in terrified whispers, was Darkness, and the name of his dominion the same.
She that had loved him was a young woman named Shemesh, who was the sun. Once, she had borrowed of her father's glory, but now her radiance outshone all the lords and ladies of her father's kingdom and even, after its manner, her father. Yet she had been used, and then set aside, by Hastur, and from the sting of his words she fled to her chamber. She hid her face from the world, and locked herself away behind a door of gilded iron, and there she carved out her heart with a shard of glass.
And as Shemesh was a titan of old her seclusion plunged the world into night eternal: it is neither symbol nor shadow that she was the sun, for she was sun and woman both, and her radiance light and fairness both. And in that awful night Hastur spread his dominion, and went to and fro upon the face of the deep, and reigned as a man with blood on his mouth.
Many there were that sought out the lady Shemesh in her brazen keep atop the mountain peaks, and many there were that perished in the cold, or the heights, and there were few that reached her door. Of these some turned themselves away when she first refused them entry, and others were slain in both flesh and soul by her cutting words, that were sharper than a two-edged sword, to the dividing asunder of both joint and marrow.
And Shemesh cared nothing for the plight of the world nor the deaths of those that sought after her, for there was a hollow where her heart had rested, and the ache of its absence was naught beside the agony of the venom which Hastur had set within it.
Thus it was until one descended out of the midst of Empyrean, on the firmament of Heaven, whose name was Kokaubeam. And Kokaubeam wrapped himself in still matter and clothed himself in the likeness of one of the sons of man, and went forward up the mountains to where Shemesh sat lorn.
Through winds, ice, and hunger he quested, for the decree that had issued forth from Empyrean was this: that any titan that set down from the City of Wonders to the world of men must not stand aside from them in apathy but suffer their travails as like unto men. And all these things he suffered because of the things which he had seen from his throne above the firmament.
And it came to pass that he reached the keep of Shemesh, which was called Ir-Shemesh, or Beth-Shemesh, and he reached her door. And Kokaubeam knocked upon her door as asked, "It is I: May this unworthy one enter?" And there was silence, and he asked again. And there were spoken harsh words, to the dividing asunder of both joint and marrow, by the old language that was like a knife. And he asked again.
And there was nothing in reply, and he waited before her door in silence and long-suffering. And it came to pass that she grew curious, and went to see him, and she beheld a man sitting there, and he was blue from the frost, thin from hunger, and his body was wounded from her wounds. And she said unto him, "What would you have me do?"
And Kokaubeam replied, saying, "Go down from the peaks and enter the valleys, and replenish the springs. For the works and secret things of Hastur prevail among the sons of men, and they are perishing by their own hand and beneath the weight of his chains."
And the countenance of Shemesh darkened, and she declined him, and her door was shut straightway. And Kokaubeam spoke again, saying, "Knowest thou thy true name, which thy father Abinadab whispered as he fashioned thee?"
And Shemesh answered, "I know not."
And he said, "Behold, I call thee Justice, for thou art so, and Truth as well." And there was silence from behind the door, and he continued, saying, "Knowest thou that I love thee?"
And she answered, "I know not, and I believe thee not."
And Kokaubeam said, "Behold, through winds, ice, and hunger I quested, because of the decree that had issued forth from Empyrean. And all these things I suffered because of the things which I had seen from my throne above the firmament, and the thing that I had beheld first and most of all was thee. And I beheld that there was none fairer nor more merciful than thee, and thy radiance reached even my throne in Empyrean, which country has many thrones, and many glories."
"These words that thou speakest are of another, and not of myself," she responded. "There is no brightness here where I am found."
"Lie, if thou wish it," said Kokaubeam, "but not to thyself."
She replied not but remained in silence for a time, and he remained with her, before the door. And it came to pass that in the darkness and the stillness his name was spoken, and he answered. "I will not go out," she said to him. "But if thou wilt remain then tell me of the world, for I find it hard to remember the color of flowers or the shade of the vale."
"Shall I tell thee, or wilt thou see?"
"I cannot," she murmured from within, "for this is where my bed is, and my hearth against the cold."
"Then if thou wilt not go out to the world, may I bring it in with a pearl?"
And there was silence for a time, until she spoke again. "If one may conjure the world in a pearl, then it is permitted thee." And the door was opened to him, and Kokaubeam went in. And there he revealed from his robes a pearl, which shone with all the brightness of his name. And this he gave to her, and he bade her look therein, and as she did so it shone with her name, and reflected to her the glory thereof. And in that light, which shone like unto a fire, she was made to see the world and all the things therein. And she beheld the travels of Kokaubeam as he walked first among the children of men and had traveled for three days in which there was no light above, and three nights that swallowed even the torch's light. And she beheld the names that were written on their faces, and the deeds carved into their souls, and the laughter of Hastur that was in their voices.
And she wept bitterly for their sake, and for the sake of them that were oppressed, and them that were yet to enter the world.
"Is this the balm that thou wouldst give to me, when I asketh thee for reminiscence?" she cried. "Is this the product of Gilead since I have gone away? And have the vales been risen up and the birds left without their wings?"
"What balm is there but thy name?" inquired Kokaubeam. "For nothing will salve that is not truth, and Truth has shut herself away. And for this reason are the children of men overcome."
"Then what would ye have me do?"
"That which is in thy heart," he answered. "Thou knowest the way to walk, and thou knowest that thy pain is mirrored in what thou hast seen."
And she despaired, even until such time that the pain of movement became not so great as the horror of seclusion. And she went out into the world, and went down from the mountain of the world into the valleys, and walked openly. And she entered in at the gates of Hastur, where he sat in feasting and riotousness, laughing for cause of the dominion which he had over the world, and the chains which he held in his left hand.
And as Shemesh walked she passed by seven torches on the walls, which seven she touched with the tips of her fingers. And the lights thereof went out, and returned in the darkness with a greater, more brilliant light that was her own. And her hair shone with pure light, and her eyes burned with the light of the pearl that had shown unto her the hall. And at her right side there stood Kokaubeam, in silence watching.
And there was silence for the space of an half hour, and then Hastur gathered in his courage and rose his eyes to meet hers. "Where wast thou when I sent for the power of men, and extended out the reaches of my kingdom? Declare, if thou wast not a coward, or didst thou remain in thy rooms and turn thy ear away from the cries of men? Hast thou commanded the morning since thy days abroad, or sent the night away? But I alone have caused that man should know his place. This land is mine by right, for I have the conqueror's privilege, and the ruler's accomplishment."
"Only a fiction," she answered. "The lie of the usurper and the justification of the robber."
"Wilt thou hunt the hunter, then?" he questioned haughtily, "or scatter dust upon the works that I have built up? Stand, like a man! For I demand of thee, and answer thou me: By what right hast thou come to set at nought my works, and take away my kingdom?"
And she answered him, saying, "I stand? Is it not thine own self which has yet remained sitting? Who is this that speaks without speaking, and gives words without knowledge?" Shemesh laughed. "Once it was said of thee: Hitherto shalt thou come, but not further. But verily, verily I say of thee that this has passed away and there is a new decree that is spoken here today, that here shall thy proud waves be stayed. And though thou be an ocean that broke forth over the world like a child of death, the doors of thy flooding-out are now shut up. And there shall be no more any that shall be devoured, save them that are delivered by themselves into thy hands. This I speak, and let me not speak further, lest the curse upon thy head be that much greater!"
And when Hastur heard these things he was caught with terror, for she spoke not as men speaketh, but with power to slay men or set down cities. And he was struck dumb, that he could not have utterance neither of communication nor of power. And he bowed down before her, and when he was moved to intreatment his voice was returned, and his words came and took form as a sharp two-edged sword. And his words bound him with their own power, and he was taken out of the hall and led away to darker lands. And Shemesh declared, "I am the daughter of he that set these stones, and I am she who painted the land into being. I am she who left, but has returned; who was weak, but has now been made strong: I am she who now sits at the gates of death, and seals up the door of the shadow of death. And I am she that rules by the light, for she that is of the light cannot walk in darkness." And she took the sword which had been made by his speech and set it through the seat of the chair, and into the stone of the floor below.
And Shemesh took the seat that was at the foot of the servant's table, and there ate.
And it came to pass that the word was spread throughout the land that the sun was returned, and that Hastur had been sent out. And Kokaubeam left her not, but courted her, and it came to pass that in time he found favor in her eyes, and was made her husband. And in generations of time she reigned, and Kokaubeam stood at her right side, and her posterity was raised to be mighty before her throne. And it came to pass that she said to her husband, "It is time for me to present myself before my father, and return to the city of our ancestry."
And she brought before her the most promising of her posterity, and at the servant's table taught her heir all the ways of the kingdom. And it came to pass that the child increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with Shemesh and all men, until she rested on her heir's shoulders the cloak that she had worn when she went down from Ir-Shemesh. And she said, "I give unto thee the sword which was born of Hastur's submission, that it always remind thee of that which was won for thy people, and for what cause. I give unto thee the pearl which was shown me by my husband, that it remind thee always to see things as they truly are, and keep my name fixed in your mind. And lastly I give unto thee my heart, that I might always be with you, and you with me, and that it always remind thee that it is not so that hearts were made to be hidden away. And though it be in thy chest, if thy people feel it then truly they have beheld it; and though it be on a pedestal, if thy people feel it not then truly it has been beheld not, but has been laid in darkness."
And after that she had said these things and given her gifts to her heir, she departed straightway out of the kingdom with her husband. And they ascended the mountains and the stairways of the heavens until they reached the country of Empyrean. And it came to pass that she entered the city called Hierosolyma-on-the-Two-Hills. And she returned to the presence of her father, and embraced her father, and made atonement with him, and the true name of her husband was declared Philo-Sophia. And there she remains to this day, sitting in judgment over Empyrean as her children sit in judgement below, and speaking from a throne of augustus as they speak from a throne of wood.
Follow-up: Returns
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