Prologue: The Bells Before The World

Before light, before shadow, there was Silence. 

The Silence was not absence, but waiting. 

It was a book unopened, the stillness before the story. 

Adorning the Silence, suspended across the void, there hung the Twin Bells. 

On one side was Aruvah, the Inbreath, tone of potential. 

On the other was Amasrah, the Outbreath, tone of release. 

Alone, each was perfect, yet mute in their solitude. 

When Aruvah was struck, the bell rang inward, yet no sound rose. 

For it breathed in what was not, and found only itself. 

When Amasrah was struck, the bell rang outward, yet no echo came. 

For it breathed out what was not, and returned only itself. 

Thus the two motions were known apart but unheard, and the Silence endured. 

For until the breaths met, there could be no sound, no time, no play. 

Then Aruvah and Amasrah struck as one, and the Silence shuddered. 

The breath caught, faltered, and trembled between giving and taking. 

Sounding in short gasps, quick and uneven, as if creation itself choked on its beginning. 

But the gasps became rhythm, and the rhythm became laughter. 

A resonant relief; the sound of two finding each other after endless solitude. 

And the laughter grew until it filled the void, 

The laughter of play, 

The laughter of reunion, 

The laughter of the universe awakening to itself. 

And the laughter poured forth as a river, 

And the river flowed forth as time, 

And time carried with it worlds, like leaves upon the current. 

And the laughter quickened, trembling as awareness. 

Its pulse turned inward and outward at once, the first heartbeat of being. 

In that trembling arose form, born not of matter but of rhythm. 

Thus was Myrth revealed: the Heir of the Bells, 

And with form came contrast, and from contrast awoke the three Lumyns: 

Veyja, green light of peace, radiating from Aruvah’s calm; 

Rushi, red light of passion, kindled from Myrth’s motion; 

And Sahl, blue light of illusion, torn from Amasrah’s depth. 

Together they wove the pure light of play, 

And from their weaving was fashioned a shifting cloak of living colour. 

Myrth donned this cloak and shimmered like the space between dusk and dawn. 

Twin bells crowned their hood, echoes of Aruvah and Amasrah. 

So began the dance of Myrth, Spirit of Play, Jester of the Beginning. 

And through them, the cosmos vowed never to forget the joy that gave rise to being. 

Myrth danced upon the river of laughter, 

And where their feet fell, sparks took root and became stars. 

Myrth clapped their hands, and the sound rang out as wind and thunder, 

And the heavens were made wide to hold the stars and sky. 

Myrth sang into the wind, coaxing air to gather into matter and earth. 

And mountains awoke from the earth and lifted their heads to listen. 

Myrth whispered secrets into the deep that pooled into water, 

And oceans gathered to cradle those secrets. 

Myrth threw dice of light and shadow across the void, 

And the dice tumbled and scattered the worlds into galaxies. 

The dice landed two and one, 

And so Myrth drew two cards from the deck of Aruvah and one from the deck of Amasrah. 

From Aruvah’s deck came the Spark and the Bone. The first to awaken, the second to endure. 

From the Spark rose fire, spirit and thought. 

From the Bone took shape the flesh of mortal kind. 

Then from Amasrah’s deck was drawn the card of Shadow, 

And in its turning was born Ruin, 

The unmaking that walks beside all things made. 

Thus were the living seated at the table of the world with their shadow, 

And play was bound to consequence. 

And so all is performed and never commanded, 

In a world played into being. 

And it was seen that all things were woven with jest and challenge both. 

Aruvah gave, 

Amasrah returned, 

And Myrth performed between them. 

Therefore the worlds remember, though dimly, that they are born of play. 

In the games of children, the worlds remember. 

In the dances of lovers, the worlds remember. 

In the feasts of friends, the worlds remember. 

And Myrth delights in remembrance, 

For each act of play is a prayer, 

And each laugh sounds the Bells united again. 

So let it be told: before light, before shadow, there was a sound. 

The sound was laughter, 

And laughter gave birth to all. 

And so it was, and so it shall be: 

From play, all things are made.