Aenurin

Ænurin

Brandon M. Dennis

The Living Things

Ænurin beheld the works of her mate and she marveled. She gazed at the stars and was in awe of Nurin's power and bottomless creativity. She saw the brilliance of the Kalani and her mind leap with joy, desiring nothing more than to spin life into being.

            She understood the will of Nurin and then began her task. She groaned and yawned, and the world shook. Her moan reverberated throughout the Welke and it shimmered violently. A single tear fell from the sky and smote the highest peak of Ænurin, the Mountain of Kindlings, which rested in the very center of the world. She grasped the tear and molded it until it began to pulse, and she hid it away in a chamber far beneath the mountain. It became her Pendant of Kindlings, a prized jewel to grace her neck.

            She reached into her pendant and pulled forth a single seed. She threw it into the hills and the rains came and soon a stalk peeked out of the dark soil. It grew and grew; centuries it grew, and then it bloomed into the largest tree, the Vine of Days, and produced seeds of its own. The seeds were varied and unique, and the winds scattered them over the face of the world.

"Reeds and brush and shrubs grew,

Grasses, flowers and vines.

Birch and elm and dogwood too,

Rowan, beech and pine.

Her face was crowned with a verdant crown

And happy were her days,

For the plants of life communed with her

And learned all her ways."

She was clothed in the loveliest of clothes; living clothes of all shapes and kinds, from the sturdiest of smooth-skinned trees to the liveliest of creeping vines. She was pleased with her verdant crown, but she yearned to create something more. Nurin had placed bindings over the whole world which kept the vegetation in place, but Ænurin wanted to craft something that could escape these bindings, if only partially, and move about on the surface.

            Ænurin reached into her Pendant of Kindlings and drew out a single limb. It was clawed, bony and rough, and she cast it into the sea. The sea gurgled and churned and out of it crawled a gigantic creature of many shapes. Ænurin named her Broodan, the mother of the creeping, crawling things, and Broodan laid herself in a large valley to give birth. She birthed every creature to ever inhabit the world, from the largest of monsters that leap over hills, to the tiniest insects that drink from the bells of flowers. Broodan also gave birth to the sea life and the birds that skim the clouds, and over the course of many lifetimes she populated the sea, land and sky.

"Elk and bear, sheep and ewe

Fish and bird and bat.

Cattle, boar and bison too

Spider, snake and cat.

The beasts of Broodan honor her

And all call her mum.

In reverence they bow to her,

For from her they all come."

Broodan's offspring thrived in the world and lived off of the plants that graced Ænurin. They did not need to feed off each other and they had no desire for territory or land. None of the beasts longed for dominance, and instead they lived with each other happily, delighting in their senses, enjoying each other and communing with Ænurin. The world was at peace in those days and there was nothing other than happiness, but it would not always be so.