Reiskian Lore
This is a story crossposted from the Draik Clan, an off-site Neopets community; an old friend wanted to read some of my recent scratchings. As it's told from the point of view of someone who isn't the usual me, I'm going to explain some aspects of the narrator.
The story is told by Rayintei, a character who is mostly identical to my primary online alter ego, except that she is partly Neopian Draik, is seven inches long from nose to tailtip, fades from dark blue along her back to powder blue along her tummy, and sheds stars... She's also a physical manifestation of a vacationing goddess. The Rayintei variation of me has a habit of flying around in a teacup.
Rayintei sits on her haunches, resting atop an upturned white teacup, wings folded and tail coiled around the inverted porcelain shell. Silver and golden stars fall off her hide and settle on her feet, gathering where her tail touches the cup, and sliding to collect in a shining puddle in the saucer. Her audience remains quiet as she gathers her composure.
"This is a story of the oldest world known to my kind, the original home of those who have come to be called the Sand Wraiths, the world where the cycle of their existence found its earliest roots in the Sunsguard Tradition. It is something that is as much a part of me as my draik side, more even, as it is so much of my past and so much of my future.
"What you will hear here tonight, is the story of Reisk, the first home, the shining Egg in the Nest of the Universe." She composes herself again, and begins the story.
Reisk was a world, long ago and far away, upon which various cultures had arisen and prospered. Among the youngest of these cultures, the Sand Wraiths were considered primitive. Of course, they were a cautious kind, and did not lightly share their secerts. Sand Wraiths, in those days, had the ability to change their forms at will, and knew much of the ways of their coinhabitants. At the time of this tale, they had only recently begun open correspondance with the rest of the world, and their strange traditions were considered archaic and quaint.
This world was large and jagged, subject to incredible earthquakes, fierce storms and extremes of weather. Yet for all its instability, every dusk places could be found where the sky was clear, and thus the Sunsguard Tradition began.
It was simple enough--select groups of Sand Wraiths were assigned to the Sunsguard Duty, who, every night, from their observation of the heavens, located the ideal spot to watch the sun set, and every morning, a spot where the sun rose. Of course, they had a different motive for this watching than mere appreciation of nature.
Being creatures in many ways similar to our own kind, they were egg layers, and familiar with the contents of said eggs. They believed, even with the benefit of the advanced sciences of their coinhabitants, that their sun was in fact the yolk of a giant egg. The daytime sky, in its varied moods, was the whites. Every dusk, they watched, ensuring that the Yolk of the Sun pierced itself upon one of the sharpest mountain peaks in the dry mountain ranges they called home.
As the Sun's yolk broke upon the mountains, they would be coated in golden light, which faded and died. As the light died, the shell of the Egg of the World began to decay, and holes to the Nest of the Universe became visibile.
Sand Wraiths are great believers in cycles, and thus it was no surprise to them that the Egg of the World was reborn each day, that the Yolk of the Sun rose from the liquid mass of the sea to float through the sky to its eventual death on the mountain peaks. The pattern of the egg's decay was also charted along predictable routes, and althugh each day itself could differ, the overall cycle of the seasons and stars remained, unchangeable and unchanging.
Now, why was it that the Sand Wraiths appointed themselves this strange guardianship? To prevent the Hatching, of course. The Sun, as long as it broke every dusk, would never feed the developing Egg of the World enough for it to hatch.
To further ensure that the Hatching could never happen, privledged members of the Sunsguard were sent annualy on the Sharpening, a ritual on the Spindle that honed the point of this, the world's steepest mountain.
It was on the day of the Sharpening ritual that one Sunsguard overheard a plot between two of a new species to the planet; Reisk was, after all, quite civilized, and of the many species and cultures on this planet, it was only expected that some of them would develop interstellar travel. Naturally, that meant visitors from other worlds would find themselves on Reisk for various reasons.
The SandWraiths, content with their desert and mountain homes and lifestyles, had little to do with these strange visitors, but this changed when that one Sunsguard overheard the plot.
The two beings, having detected a wealth of minerals in the mountain range claimed by the SandWraiths, intended to sabotage the Sharpening, weakening the peak to the point that a key explosion would send the entire mountain crumbling. At that point, a fleet of shuttles would scoop up the fallen rubble, and cart the precious minerals to a waiting ore ship.
The Sunsguard found herself with a dilemma; how could she prevent the destruction of the Spindle? It was the pivotal peak upon which the Yolk of the Sun died. Without it, the Yolk would set into a ripening earth, and the Hatching would begin.
As she began planning, however, she was noticed by the two plotters, and severely beaten. Perhaps they believed her dead, perhaps she was able to defend herself enough to keep from being killed. The only one who knows is that particular Sunsguard, and she never told the details. What is known is that she was left unconscious, and that her adversaries escaped to carry out their plan.
Her awakening came too late; sharp explosions echoed down the mountainsides and the rumbling of the earth told her that the Spindle had broken.
As the earthquakes continued, the Sunsguard took on her kind's most primitive form, a giant winged serpent, and sought out the far-flung communities, warning them of the coming disaster. The sky was sinking into red, and the Yolk of the Sun's path to the plains was completely clear.
With a shudder, the earth rent and the inner fires spewed forth, and the Sand Wraiths gathered what possessions they could, and united, took on their winged serpent forms and found the empty skies. From the heights of the atmosphere, the Sunsguard saw the Yolk of the Sun reach smooth ground intact, and the Egg of the World absorbed it easily. Below, the fires continued, and around them, shuttles flew madly as the other residents of Reisk sought escape.
Pulling from what magical skills they had gathered, calling in debts owed to them, and begging aid from anything willing to bargain for what few things they had left, the Sand Wraiths prepared themselves for a long journey through space, in search of a new home.
Rayi draws the story to its conclusion, and moves a bit, shedding stars in a cascade of shimmering light. "It is strange that the breaking of a tradition resulted in the end of the world. Perhaps, though, it is not so strange when one considers that the natural balance on Reisk had become a fragile thing, and in many ways, the Sand Wraiths were only slightly inaccurate in their assessment of how critical the Spindle was to their world. They carried to safety only a few fragments of their broken home, as tokens of memory; no world is invulnerable.
"The Sand Wraiths did find a new home, and in the bargaining to gain it, lost much of their shape-changing ability." She paused.
"Fortunately, they had the foresight to build safeguards into their species; for the price they paid, they gained not only a world, but the promise of the ability to journey to another should the new fail. The Being with whom they dealt permitted them to keep their primary form; four legged, two winged, with a three-pronged tail and a fanned crest, for use on their homes. When that home is threatened, they become the winged serpent to safely search for a new world. And to better hide in unkind territory, the humble snake is often the safest shape.
"Thus, it is interesting to note that when they found themselves on my homeworld, they were never able to turn back into the draconic form. They remain in hiding there, armless and legless, seeking the key to the transformation of their species, and as yet, unable to find her. It seems they have an unfinished obligation."
Rayi, feeling somewhat dramatic, paused. "As for the fate of our would be hero, the Sunsguard who was unable to prevent the death of her first world... in many ways, she was the mother of my kind."
The story is told by Rayintei, a character who is mostly identical to my primary online alter ego, except that she is partly Neopian Draik, is seven inches long from nose to tailtip, fades from dark blue along her back to powder blue along her tummy, and sheds stars... She's also a physical manifestation of a vacationing goddess. The Rayintei variation of me has a habit of flying around in a teacup.
Rayintei sits on her haunches, resting atop an upturned white teacup, wings folded and tail coiled around the inverted porcelain shell. Silver and golden stars fall off her hide and settle on her feet, gathering where her tail touches the cup, and sliding to collect in a shining puddle in the saucer. Her audience remains quiet as she gathers her composure.
"This is a story of the oldest world known to my kind, the original home of those who have come to be called the Sand Wraiths, the world where the cycle of their existence found its earliest roots in the Sunsguard Tradition. It is something that is as much a part of me as my draik side, more even, as it is so much of my past and so much of my future.
"What you will hear here tonight, is the story of Reisk, the first home, the shining Egg in the Nest of the Universe." She composes herself again, and begins the story.
Reisk was a world, long ago and far away, upon which various cultures had arisen and prospered. Among the youngest of these cultures, the Sand Wraiths were considered primitive. Of course, they were a cautious kind, and did not lightly share their secerts. Sand Wraiths, in those days, had the ability to change their forms at will, and knew much of the ways of their coinhabitants. At the time of this tale, they had only recently begun open correspondance with the rest of the world, and their strange traditions were considered archaic and quaint.
This world was large and jagged, subject to incredible earthquakes, fierce storms and extremes of weather. Yet for all its instability, every dusk places could be found where the sky was clear, and thus the Sunsguard Tradition began.
It was simple enough--select groups of Sand Wraiths were assigned to the Sunsguard Duty, who, every night, from their observation of the heavens, located the ideal spot to watch the sun set, and every morning, a spot where the sun rose. Of course, they had a different motive for this watching than mere appreciation of nature.
Being creatures in many ways similar to our own kind, they were egg layers, and familiar with the contents of said eggs. They believed, even with the benefit of the advanced sciences of their coinhabitants, that their sun was in fact the yolk of a giant egg. The daytime sky, in its varied moods, was the whites. Every dusk, they watched, ensuring that the Yolk of the Sun pierced itself upon one of the sharpest mountain peaks in the dry mountain ranges they called home.
As the Sun's yolk broke upon the mountains, they would be coated in golden light, which faded and died. As the light died, the shell of the Egg of the World began to decay, and holes to the Nest of the Universe became visibile.
Sand Wraiths are great believers in cycles, and thus it was no surprise to them that the Egg of the World was reborn each day, that the Yolk of the Sun rose from the liquid mass of the sea to float through the sky to its eventual death on the mountain peaks. The pattern of the egg's decay was also charted along predictable routes, and althugh each day itself could differ, the overall cycle of the seasons and stars remained, unchangeable and unchanging.
Now, why was it that the Sand Wraiths appointed themselves this strange guardianship? To prevent the Hatching, of course. The Sun, as long as it broke every dusk, would never feed the developing Egg of the World enough for it to hatch.
To further ensure that the Hatching could never happen, privledged members of the Sunsguard were sent annualy on the Sharpening, a ritual on the Spindle that honed the point of this, the world's steepest mountain.
It was on the day of the Sharpening ritual that one Sunsguard overheard a plot between two of a new species to the planet; Reisk was, after all, quite civilized, and of the many species and cultures on this planet, it was only expected that some of them would develop interstellar travel. Naturally, that meant visitors from other worlds would find themselves on Reisk for various reasons.
The SandWraiths, content with their desert and mountain homes and lifestyles, had little to do with these strange visitors, but this changed when that one Sunsguard overheard the plot.
The two beings, having detected a wealth of minerals in the mountain range claimed by the SandWraiths, intended to sabotage the Sharpening, weakening the peak to the point that a key explosion would send the entire mountain crumbling. At that point, a fleet of shuttles would scoop up the fallen rubble, and cart the precious minerals to a waiting ore ship.
The Sunsguard found herself with a dilemma; how could she prevent the destruction of the Spindle? It was the pivotal peak upon which the Yolk of the Sun died. Without it, the Yolk would set into a ripening earth, and the Hatching would begin.
As she began planning, however, she was noticed by the two plotters, and severely beaten. Perhaps they believed her dead, perhaps she was able to defend herself enough to keep from being killed. The only one who knows is that particular Sunsguard, and she never told the details. What is known is that she was left unconscious, and that her adversaries escaped to carry out their plan.
Her awakening came too late; sharp explosions echoed down the mountainsides and the rumbling of the earth told her that the Spindle had broken.
As the earthquakes continued, the Sunsguard took on her kind's most primitive form, a giant winged serpent, and sought out the far-flung communities, warning them of the coming disaster. The sky was sinking into red, and the Yolk of the Sun's path to the plains was completely clear.
With a shudder, the earth rent and the inner fires spewed forth, and the Sand Wraiths gathered what possessions they could, and united, took on their winged serpent forms and found the empty skies. From the heights of the atmosphere, the Sunsguard saw the Yolk of the Sun reach smooth ground intact, and the Egg of the World absorbed it easily. Below, the fires continued, and around them, shuttles flew madly as the other residents of Reisk sought escape.
Pulling from what magical skills they had gathered, calling in debts owed to them, and begging aid from anything willing to bargain for what few things they had left, the Sand Wraiths prepared themselves for a long journey through space, in search of a new home.
Rayi draws the story to its conclusion, and moves a bit, shedding stars in a cascade of shimmering light. "It is strange that the breaking of a tradition resulted in the end of the world. Perhaps, though, it is not so strange when one considers that the natural balance on Reisk had become a fragile thing, and in many ways, the Sand Wraiths were only slightly inaccurate in their assessment of how critical the Spindle was to their world. They carried to safety only a few fragments of their broken home, as tokens of memory; no world is invulnerable.
"The Sand Wraiths did find a new home, and in the bargaining to gain it, lost much of their shape-changing ability." She paused.
"Fortunately, they had the foresight to build safeguards into their species; for the price they paid, they gained not only a world, but the promise of the ability to journey to another should the new fail. The Being with whom they dealt permitted them to keep their primary form; four legged, two winged, with a three-pronged tail and a fanned crest, for use on their homes. When that home is threatened, they become the winged serpent to safely search for a new world. And to better hide in unkind territory, the humble snake is often the safest shape.
"Thus, it is interesting to note that when they found themselves on my homeworld, they were never able to turn back into the draconic form. They remain in hiding there, armless and legless, seeking the key to the transformation of their species, and as yet, unable to find her. It seems they have an unfinished obligation."
Rayi, feeling somewhat dramatic, paused. "As for the fate of our would be hero, the Sunsguard who was unable to prevent the death of her first world... in many ways, she was the mother of my kind."