Genesis 1:
The Movements of the Pollen
In the Beginning there was Pollen.
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The Alchemist did not yet move but the Pollen found the Alchemist nonetheless and began to fill the Alchemist’s chest. In and out, raising and lowering the Alchemists chest until the Alchemist began to breathe like you or I.
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Bees flicked then to the Alchemist to assess the Pollen. Within the Alchemist’s chest, the Bees constructed their Hives, lungs constructed in honeycomb. The Bees had more Pollen there than they could possibly carry in one lifetime and so they sat and watched their work as their honey multiplied and began to flow through the Alchemist’s veins.
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Honey became life and in this manner the Alchemists eyes opened and so the Alchemist was born.
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The Alchemist found a world constructed of honeycomb and stardust. Constellations sat quietly, eyes closed, awaiting the stories which would ignite their movement. Honeybees tended to the Space and the Alchemist found honeycomb and honey to be bountiful. The honey flowed around the Space just as it flowed through the Alchemists veins.
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For a time unknown, the Alchemist worked with the Bees, enjoying their company and buzzing. The Alchemist spent much time learning their dances and enjoying their company. But despite the Alchemist’s long practiced efforts, the Alchemist could not learn their language. The Alchemist was never lonely with the Bees, but the Alchemist longed for conversation alongside of companionship.
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The Pollen felt this longing and began to collect in the ears and hands and mouth of the Spinner. The Bees took their time with this Honeycomb. They were careful to fill the Honey with the knowledge both of their language and of their craft as the two were inseparable to the Bees. Honey began to pour from the Spinner’s mouth in words and buzzing and stories, The Spinner heard the Bees and began to convey their prophecies to the Alchemist. The Alchemist was delighted by this knowledge and began to teach the Spinner the dances of the Bees in return for the Spinner’s stories. The two delighted in this exchange for some time and there was much joy to be found between them. However, with time, a longing grew between them to share this joyful being.
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The Pollen felt this longing and gently landed on a spinning wheel. The Spinner followed the Pollen there and remembered the craft the Bees had left in the Spinner’s hands. The Spinner collected flax and fibers and began to Spin on the wheel. A thread twisted from the Spinner’s hands which contained the prophecies of the Bees: the todays and the tomorrows, the what-ifs and the maybes, the could-bes and the could-nevers. When the spinning was finished, the Spinner showed the Alchemist the thread.
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The Alchemist found new joy in the Spinner’s thread. And so the thread was warped and woven shaping itself into the fabric which would shape the curvatures of our galaxies. In this fabric with time would be frays and holes but the structure was sound and so the Alchemist breathed in the thread so that Honey might seen from the Alchemist’s lungs and into the fabric which ignited life into our universe. The Alchemist wrapped the constellations in the fabric placing stars and their stories into the sky.
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All was ready for the Prophecies to play out in our universe but the Alchemist and the Spinner already knew the endings. They had already seen every prophecy held by the Spinner’s thread and they both longed for someone to share the stories with.
The Pollen felt this longing and settled on the eyes of the Watcher. Honey ran out in tears from the Watcher’s eyes as the Bees collected there. The Bees were careful to Honeycomb the Watcher’s eyes into many facets so that the Watcher could watch the many stories altogether and all at once so as to understand the full Prophecy of the Bees. Eyes opened, the Watcher knew this and also knew that there was no way to interrupt the Prophecy and so the Watcher began to weep Honeyed-tears as empathy and hurt and joy swelled within the Watcher’s chest. The Pollen felt this longing to move and so tried to settle on the Watcher to give a second gift but the Watcher's tears washed the Pollen away and so the Watcher watches even now unable to intercede.
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And so it was and so it is, but herein lies only the Beginning.
Genesis 2:
The Coming of the Monsters
In the beginning, there were Monsters. There have always been the things we call Monsters and always will be. Perhaps, however, they have never been quite as we have imagined them. At their core, the Monsters are wanderers: explorers containing hearts that overflow with the joy of discovery. At the first, there was the fish (named Loch Ness) and the bear (named Sasquatch). Though there have since become more who have drunk from blessed honeyed wine, these two were the first: the two who always were before the spinning of the thread. In this before time, the fish and the bear lived for a while amongst the constellations. They enjoyed the humming and dancing of the bees (though they did not understand their riddled Prophecies) and spent much time following the whims of the Pollen. However, both soon found they were restless to move and to explore: to wander and wonder. They slipped like shadows, exploring and reveling in the vast everything of what existed. The quiet, the dark, the loud, and the light. Beyond honey and honeycomb, Pollen and bees.
The Monsters enjoyed their being and often found more comfort in being alone than in being together. So they explored the mystery of everything separately. Even so, they did on occasion find that, in being alone, they slipped into loneliness. On these occasions, the fish and the bear would seek out one another’s warmth, share a cup of blessed honeyed wine which tasted like magic, and whisper to one another of the many unknowable things which they had seen and come to learn. Having their fill, the Monsters would say their goodbyes and give their love and wish one another peace. Then the fish and the bear would slip back away into the curvatures of the spacious void of their wanderings.
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When the Three laid out fabric to create the Universe which we know now, the Monsters were filled with a wander-lust tug towards it. They were not wrapped in the fabric as the constellations had been, but they slipped through what holes were worn into the threads and began to explore the deep recesses of the universe.
The fish found bodies of deep warm water, swimming and swimming and never quite reaching the bottom of the depths, and delighting in its own reemergence into the sun. The bear found cozy dark woods dense with new creatures and critters and moss and life that worked itself together into its own disjointed one-ness. Each creature found these haunts joyfully and they moved as they wished through the world for many millennia.
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The fish and the bear, having drank their honeyed wine, were blessed with the peace they both desired and longed for and wished for one another. They, therefore, did not worry about the perceptions of the world around them as shadows graced and held them safely in their solitude. In time and in their familiar way, both Monsters became lonely and longed for each others’ company. But, try though they might, neither could disrupt the others’ solace. A wish made holds its own power and the magic of the honeyed wine had blessed them and their wishes time and again and made itself solid within the bounds of the universe’s fabric.
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And, so, the Monsters fell into their own ways. The fish became morose and sank ever deeper into the depths of its lakes. The bear became angry and began its rampage to disrupt the flora and fauna which surrounded it. Neither Monster took much care of their honeyed wine. The fish poured its own out into the lake. The bear knocked it over in a fit of rage. So this is the way that new Monsters came into our woven story. As honeyed wine spilt into the earth and water, new Monsters drank their droplets and so too became blessed with peace. And though we do not encounter them (except in the case of the Prophesied few), we find their truth left marked in footprints and fairy tales.
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So it was and so it is, and thus we know the origins of the creatures which surround us in the night.