Star Harbor Nights

At the beginning of all this, I told you that our story was one that involved the entirety of creation, though it would make more sense viewed in terms of individual people and places. Thus, we have followed a few days in the life of Perfect Jones, as she struggles to make the world a better place... even as she struggles to understand her place in it.

To date, other than a few interesting asides from myself, you haven't really seen much of the larger picture... of the greater events which surround and entwine the small. As we pick things up in this next chapter, that will begin to change.

We will, of course, be returning to the story of Perfect... and of Ray, who was headed for a confrontation with the Seeress when last we saw him. What came of that meeting? What words passed between these two ill-starred former lovers? You have been patient in waiting for the answers to these questions... and that patience will soon be rewarded.

But, on the subject of returning our attention to stories already in progress, what of our little creation fable? As it happens, there is only a little bit more to tell, at this point.

If you will recall, when last we contemplated the time before time in the space outside of space, the four major incarnations of the Primordium had just departed, leaving behind them the three intermediaries, or messengers, and the construct of the female principles, dubbed by them as the metatrix.

What was the metatrix? It was itself... or herself, I should say, for as the messengers were marked as male by their association with the masculine principles of creation and destruction, so the metatrix could be held to be female by virtue of having been shaped by the feminine forces.

Aside, that's what the "-trix" on the end means.

Of course, that name... just like the rest of this particular narrative... is merely a poor attempt to transcribe with words an event which occurred entirely in abstract concept. But, it works. She was, as Void had put it, a mediator between the warring powers of the Darkness and the Light... a go-between for the in-between.

What did she look like? That question is subjective enough in the relatively concrete world in which you live your day-to-day existence, but inside the swirling primordial mists, "subjective" does not begin to describe it. There were three different entities which regarded her appearance with unease... three entirely different perspectives.

The Messenger of Light, servant of the creative urge, looked upon her and saw something very much like a serpent... an insidious, crawling, slippery-scaled thing which might one day crawl into a beautiful, carefully cultivated garden and make it dangerous and strange.

The Messenger of Darkness, child of the destructive urge, saw something else entirely. Darkness in the literal sense is intangible, and thus impervious to even the most deadly blows... but, as has often been observed, the smallest tongue of flame from a candle can destroy it utterly. When the Dark Messenger gazed at the metatrix, what he saw was akin to a burning torch held aloft.

The other one, the messenger between the messengers, saw something which might conceptually be likened to a dog. Now, the canine is a symbolically very complex creature, as depending upon the context, it can symbolize many things. To a hunter, the faithful hound is one thing... but to the hunted, it is quite another. The dog is both the safety of a cozy house with sturdy walls and a warm fire, and the danger which lies growling and sniffing in the darkness which lies just outside the door. A wild dog can be domesticated... and a tame dog can grow wild.

Thus, the messenger's words as he looked upon her: "That... is... interesting."

The metatrix, for her part, returned each of their gazes with equal strength.

"I... I do not understand," the Dark Messenger said. "They intend for this... thing... to watch over and somehow safeguard the universe?"

"I think you really do not understand," the third messenger said, regarding the new creation intently. "It's here to watch... not over creation, but over its creators... over us."

"Name of my Father... what is it doing?" cried the Light Messenger, as the three-in-one, never taking any eyes off the three, drifted towards the center of that place, the space in which the newly assembled existence was playing itself out.

"Perhaps taking up a better vantage point?" the third suggested. Although the metatrix seemed to move slowly, with infinite care and patience, in the twinkling of an eye she had reached the alternately black and bright expanse of the growing cosmos. For a moment, she appeared superimposed over that swirling vastness... and in that instant, all three aspects appeared to all three of the messengers, as if she were a fan that had unfolded... and then she was gone, merged with and suffusing the entirety of everything.

"But what can it... she... they possibly do?" the Dark Messenger asked as the metatrix faded from sight. "She has no authority, and Chaos had no power to give her any."

"She didn't need to," the third messenger said, with an ironic laugh. "Don't you see? All those rules which we intended to remove from the cosmos... they are her power and authority. My brothers, I think our little world just became a more interesting place."

"You keep saying 'interesting' as if it were a good thing," the Light Messenger sniffed.

"Well, perhaps there can be too much of a good thing, but it certainly beats the alternative... and anyway, I'm not convinced that we can't turn this thing to our advantage. After all, while we put so much effort and thought into setting the direction for things to come, we gave ourselves precious little room to go in and manipulate events from the inside," the third messenger said. "Now that the, ah, 'higher' powers have left us to our devices, I see no reason why we shouldn't enjoy the fruits of our labors... and, as we have all had a more-or-less equal hand in its creation and formation, it is only right that we rule over it as equals. Are you with me, brothers?"

Neither of the other two said anything at first.

"I say, are you with me, brothers?"

"I fail to see how you could possibly count yourself as my equal, when you are only half of me," the Light Messenger said coldly. "As for your proposal... I'd almost see the whole thing rent asunder than collaborate any further with two creatures of darkness."

"I'd sooner see the whole thing rent asunder, period," the Dark Messenger said. "And while your initial actions have stymied me in this regard, I perceive within your words a means to that end... if we meet again, it shall be as enemies."

Saying no more, he retreated back into the darkness from which he had first emerged.

"See what you have done, meddler?" the Light Messenger shouted. "Through your ill-conceived machinations, you have endangered all of reality."

"Through my machinations, I brought about reality," the third contended. "But, by that virtue, I would also be the very last to want to see it destroyed. Together, surely, we'll be more than a match for whatever the Messenger of Darkness contrives."

"I alone am his match... who knows what damage your further presence would do my cause?" the Light Messenger said. "You are not my equal, nor my brother, and for once I find myself in complete agreement with my dark mirror: if we meet again, it shall be as enemies."

Then, the third messenger found himself alone.

"All things considered... that could have gone better," he said.

Such is the story, as it was told to me... though I've made certain allowances for the likely biases of the teller, and filled in some gaps with educated guesses, and altered other parts to better suit the demands of dramatic flow. Of the three feuding brothers and their watchful foil, there will be more to say... all of them will factor, or have already factored, into our tales.

For now, though, we have reached the end... or at least, the end of the beginning.