OF THE BEGINNINGS
n the books of the ancients it is laid down: the Lore of the Great
Mother, the One and All, and the Being and the Will of the Gods, the Lore of the World and
her Eternal Becoming, of the Outbreak of the Great War and the steady work of the Elements
therein, the Lore at last of all Things Living, of Elves, Dwarves, Humans, as well as of
Orcs and their kind, of all those that have begun the works of the Celestials
and are destined to fullfil them hereafter. All this is written in the books of the
In the Beginning there was the Origin and the End. For when the Origin arose the End arose also, and when the End arose the Origin arose also, the Origin and the End. Both were in one and one was in both, Origin and End, End and Origin; there was, thus, the Origin in the End, the End in the Origin. There arose the Tide of Time through a turn of the Tide of Time, Time's Tide turning into Time, beyond Time, into Eternity. Thus dreamt Avá.
For it was Avá that the Axhái named her, those that first sprang from the Fullness and became what is now called the Elven Race. Avá they called her, Avá the Supreme, the One, Avá, the Unique One, Avá the Great Mother, the Giver of Life, Avá the Immortal One, She Who Bringeth Forth All Things, She Who Dreameth Forth All Things. And even when Creation was no longer in her infant years, when Avá had already abondoned her children to observe the earthly doings from a place far off in the firmament, even then the elves gave her affectionate names. These names were such as accorded with the modes of her being, such as they thought proper, such as according to their innermost belief would do justice to Avá and her works. Therefore they used to call her Avá the Compassionate, Avá the Just, Avá the Merciful and, beyond all this, Avá the Beautiful. The other Children of the Great Mother however, the Human Race, that of the Dwarves and that maligned ones, the Orcs, did not know their Creatress or would not know of Her. They mistrusted the Axhái and would not believe what they were told about the magnificent works of Avá. Thus it happened that the Axhái eventually came up with an altogether different nomenclature, one that was to reflect the hybris of the other earthlings which made them reject the First and Only One, nay, deny her very existence. Therefore the Mother of Creation also came to be called Avá the Forgotten One, Avá the Lost One, Avá the Unappreciated One and - eventually - Avá the Unreal. And even as this faulty brood presumed to disdain the womb it had sprung from, so it failed to perceive the grandeur and the glory of all that which the Mother had put at her Childrens' disposal, for them to take their portion of happiness therein and be filled with the desire to multiply. But it was Avá, the Unique One, it was her alone who had begun to dream the Dream of Time in Her World Beyond Time. She dreamt of Herself, forsooth, in the Dream of Time and Eternity alike, and so it came about that the first and the last Hour of Creation were knelled in that selfsame Dream.
For this has been handed down to us by the ancients; namely that Avá, the First and Only One, dreamt the Dream of Dreams, the Dream of Herself, the Dream of that selfsame who dreamt it, the Dream of the dreaming Avá. Every moment, so it is said, is filled with that Dream, for Her Dream is that moment which concealeth the fullness of Eternity. Therefore the One will dream her Dream forever and though this takes Her but a moment, Eternity is thus thrust on Creation for what the offspring of her Dream may behold of it is Eternity, Eternity and Time, Truth and Mirage, Essence and Accident, both in one and one in both. This however was the reason for Her dream to commence: Even though, to wit, the Thoughts of Avá were beautiful and harmonious beyond compare, unimaginably pure and uniquely benevolent, even though She was self-contained and at rest in Her spiritual freedom, there remained a thing which, though unable to mar the essence of Her being, She deemed it a taint to be removed: the Thought, that all Her splendour, Her kindness and Her purity, nay, even the very beauty of Her being, were not complete in themselves, that the sublime and the grand is in need of the lowly and diminuitive, that the incompareable requires that which it cannot be compared to. The Perfect One, in sum, decided to behold Her own perfection, the Unique One her Uniqueness. Avá desired to behold Herself.
"Who am I?", the First and Only One demanded of Herself. For in the beginning was an effort at self-inquiry, Avá's desire to know Herself, the effort first taken by the Great Mother and later renewed by the Children of Creation. And as Avá delved into Herself She laid down to sleep, Herself for to encounter in that sleep, creating images to match Her Thoughts and a plethora of imperfect things to fill a void that was perfect. Her soul being unfathomable, Her sleep was profound and fast and it plunged deep into the core of the Aeolía, the First Thoughts, deep in the essence of Avá.
Then, as She lay dreaming, She all of a sudden fancied to behold the myriads of Thoughts and Concepts that She nourished, no longer as mere representations of Her mind but as the manifest embodiments of will reflected in a mirror. It was a moment of supreme happiness for Avá and also a moment of heavenly amazement, for what the One was granted to behold was no longer Herself, was her double but not Herself, Thoughts that were the same as Her own, indeed, but still not the same. What She beheld in that Dream was another part of Herself, another part of Her Thougths, the Other of Avá. She dreamt of being at one with Herself and as She was dreaming of the One She beheld the Many from which the One had sprung, the Many which in Her Dream had given birth to Her, the One, the First and Only One. She dreamt of being that which She was and as She was dreaming of Being She beheld Becoming, the Becoming from which Being had arisen, from which that Dream had sprung that was to become real. The Dream was: Avá dreamt of being immortal and as She was dreaming of Immortality She beheld Mortality, Time which dismembers Being to create Becoming, discontinuing the Constant for the Accidential to have Access; yea, Avá was dreaming of Shape, of Shape per se, and what she beheld was the Essence of Shape, the Essence underlying Shape. She dreamt of the Essence of Her Concepts and what She beheld was their representations. She dreamt of Matter and what she beheld was Matter materialized. She dreamt of Avá and what she beheld was Esh-Avá: Esh-Avá the Other, Esh-Avá the Fake One, Esh Avá the Stranger, Esh-Avá the Universe. Later on the Axhái would come up with yet another set of quite different cognomina denoting the reflection of Avá, but so far the time was not ripe for that.
Avá too was not yet able to read the signs. On the contrary, she fell to marvelling at Herself by means of that Dream, indulging like an innocent girl in the contemplation of Her own aspect, wondrously reflecting from a mirror. Just as the little girl will smooth her shirt, turning this way and that with a mind to cutting an imposing figure in the mirror, so Avá, the Great Mother, was totally wrapped up in the contemplation of Her own image. But Avá, again resembles the girl who would behold in the mirror only that which She desired to behold, did not perceive the Truth concealed in her own image as She was much too infatuated with beauty thereof. Still it is said, that even back then Avá was for an instant startled from those raptures occasioned by the reflection of Her aspect when all of a sudden she caught a glimpse of the Eternal Truth. She grew alarmed and realized that the Dream was not identical with the one who dreamt it even though the Dream without the Dreamer is a mere Nothing, nay, the Void itself, a Thing beyond the Void even: the Nothingness that came before the Void. So it happened that while dreaming of Herself, Avá realized that in the course of that Dream She became Another. But when the Dream began Avá beheld but Herself and had no mind for the essence of Her vis-à-vis, for the essence of Her likeness, the Image of Avá. Thus dreamt Avá.
Myth written by Artimidor