How the Suns and Moons came to be
A Lasan folk tale about cycles, order and chaos, and fairness for @fuzzydemolitionsquad.
Once upon a time, when the world was new and the gods were still forming, there were two great houses. And of these houses, there were two daughters, and they were the best of friends. They were as different as night and day, but got along well, and both houses wished the best of them.
One day, when they were young, the girls ran into a lesser god’s garden and trampled the newly growing herbs . He cursed at them, for he was a doctor and those herbs were the lifeblood of his patients, but they just laughed, for they were nobility and thus could not be touched.
As time went on, they grew, and the wrongness of what they’d done as youths gnawed at them. But they were highborn, and as they reasoned, there was nothing to be done.
Eventually, as the two houses had hoped, the women fell in love and were married, and all were invited to witness the joining. The instant their vows were said and their marriage was sealed, the doctor, now old and weak and worn from years of poverty, stepped forward and cursed. “You will forever be in opposition to each other!”
The houses arrested him of course, angered by the severing of their alliance, and sentenced him to death. But the first bride stopped them, pleading for mercy as her wedding gift, while the second pleaded for time to choose a more suitable punishment.
The next few weeks, the brides were in separate rooms, sliding letters under the door as they figured out what must be done. They fought much and could not seem to agree, but both had grown wise, and thus they made a plan.
On the day of the execution, the goddesses walked forward, hand in hand. The old doctor seemed shocked that his curse had not affected them, and the gods sighed in relief. They held up their hands as one, silencing the crowd.
The first stepped forward and spoke. “This man cursed us because as children we destroyed his garden, and condemned his patients. Justice cannot be truly served if the accident of birth is worth more than the severity of the crime. Therefore, I have chosen to become the goddess of order. I will light lanterns in the sky, granting life-giving light at dedicated intervals, so that all might enjoy. I will create law and justice so that all might be served equally, so that we might live in peace and stability where the punishment fits the crime.”
The gods murmured to themselves. It seemed like a good plan. They called out possible laws, arguing with each other. Under such a system, both the girls and the doctor had violated law, but who should be punished? The first woman raised her hand for silence, and the second woman stepped forward.
“Order is not enough, for we are not enough. Law cannot be perfect, as it was made by imperfect hands. Therefore, I will become the goddess of chaos. I will forever challenge the order my wife has created, refining and reforming it, breaking what does not work so it can build anew. I will hang my own lanterns in the sky, ever-changing and ever-shifting, but always with one eye upon those that the law does not serve.”
The gods roared their approval. The wives turned as one to the old man, bowing deeply. “Your curse has not been lifted, sir. And it would be wrong to lift if, for order and chaos must always be at odds. But that does not mean we cannot work in concert, and through our opposition, we will build a better world.”
With that, the second wife struck the chains with her axe and fled, doctor in hand. The first halted the pursuit, and set the other gods to work. Recompense would need to be paid to the doctors and the patients, and the doctor himself would spend some time in jail, for vengeance could not replace justice and the severing of their alliance could have led to great harm. As she set up law, courts, order, and mathematics, her wife fled to the dark parts of the world and set up rebellion, crime, and resistance.
Ever since then, as night and day, order and chaos have fought. Order keeps the world fair, and chaos challenges order when it cannot. Whenever one or the other grows too strong, the world suffers, so they must always press against each other, must always oppose the other. And yet very dawn and dusk, they say, the goddesses touch once again, as much in love as the day they wed.
