This is my basic concept at the moment for the;
Fonrtan Circle of Light Myth.
Anarchy and disorder ruled the world, all were unsettled on the Ruby Mountain. Beneath the Ruby Mountain, the Earth Bull roared, beneath the Earth Bull the Sea Remora screamed, beneath the Sea Remora the Hell Wind churned, beaneath the
Hell Wind was the Mist beyond which none can comprehend.
Above the Ruby Mountain, beyond sight within the seventeen heavens was peace.
The beings of heaven wept for those below and looked to each other for the
answer.
The ruptions in the worlds below began to shake the edge of the Seveteen
Heavens.
The world stood at and end, the standstill, the edge of annihilation.
From the highest heaven there came a sound and then a sight and the a movement. The Sun as the Bird of Heaven appeared. A feather from his tail fell. Through Seventeen Heavens it fell, singing to the world below. Through Mountain, Bull, Remora, Wind and Mist it fell, singing to the world above.
The people of the Ruby Mountain learnt the song and sought the Sun Bird. The song was the path, the song was the feather, the feather was the guide. The some lost heart at the outset. The first was lead by love and was lost. The second lost himself in himself. The last could not leave the ruins behind.
The pilgrims set upon their deadly and perilous path. The crossed the nine
seas.
The first was named Bewilderment, the next were Loss, Self, Fear, Doubt and
Hate.
The seventh was Remorse, at the eigth faltered and thought it was called Hope.
The Last was called Annihilation and was the easiest to cross by far.
The Pilgrims then crossed the eight chasms, seventeen hells and Bulls Field. The journey had taken its toll and many fell, others were pushed, a few jumped. The Pilgrims fought within and without until the strongest and fiercest ruled. The Leader became lost. He pulled and pushed, but could not go straight.
The Pilgrims then made a circle, so that none could pull or push or jump alone. Thirty remained, made pure by their sufferings. Thirty were together but lost. They tried to look in their own directions, but could only look at each other. The looked and understood and saw beneath them the Ruby Mountain.
The Sun Bird ascended to the seventeenth heaven and so did the pilgrims. The Earth Bull slept, the Sea Remora was still, the Hell Wind still howled. Beneath all was the Mist which none can comprehend. The Pilgrims were the Ring, the Ring was the Sun Bird, the Sun Bird was the World.
Cheers Simon Bray (not Gray or Grey, Bray as in loud rasping noise, like a donkey).
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