The Alinyu
II. The Creation

    It was not a simple process, building such a “centering.”  Was it to be
a creature?  A thing of such profound thought and actions that all the
multiverse would be affected?  No, the Kyie thought.  A single creature
would be too small.  Was it to be a plane?  An addition to the timeless
Outer and Inner dimensions of existence, boundless unto itself?  No, he
thought again.  That would be too large.  One does not toss a boulder
into a pond to make a ripple.  One finds the proper stone.
    The proper stone was a world, tucked neatly into the Prime Material,
a world on which the Balance would be meticulously maintained.
Through sheer force of will and centuries of magical knowledge and
power, the Kyie built a ship amongst the stars from the nothingness.  Its
earth and sun and moon were imbued with souls all their own, to act as
the triumvirate, the collective soul and sentience of this new world.
Water was supplied to surround Gaia, to let life thrive upon her now-
desolate face.  Mountains rose, reaching for the infinity of space that
was the sky, forests flourished by magical design – all as if in a dream
under the darkness of space when Sol did not burn high above his sister
Gaia.  But every ship needs a sail, the Kyie thought to himself.  A sail to
ride the cosmic winds of chaos and fate. And so, from the crux of the
Mountains of the Unknown, a pillar of massive stone arose reaching
even higher into the sky, a great finger pointing straight to the cosmos.
And from this great mast unfurled the sky: a tapestry of such strength
and beauty that Sol and Luna approach every closer throughout their
reign over the day and night; and then, satisfied of his enduring beauty,
they fade away again, to the horizon and away.
    So the world was verdant and stood ready.  And the Kyie was
pleased.
    But there was more to be done.

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copyright february, 2000
noah mclaughlin