From: Love, Loss, Coleoptera

 

I struggled for ages along the winding dirt-roads that branch off like blocked blood-vessels from the High Road connecting Southern Kimbria to the Big, Bad City without meeting a single solitary soul {Big Bad City Blues}. In fact, I was utterly alone, thirsty, and almost starving. But then again, that isn’t totally true; I was carrying something, some things, some conflicted essences within me. While boredom due to repetitiveness stretches time and space, focusing on aspects of a situation makes those dimensions get smaller, like hot water shrinking woollen cloth, and the space round about was closing in on me.

 

 

From: The Endless History of the Holiest World-Wide Church

 

To start with, Hlevné went around helping and caring for Dvaldí and his brothers, but there was only one of her, and she was always exhausted because she did not know which one to assist next. Furthermore, the brothers would all fight to grab her attention. So, she decided to imitate them, and started to split herself too, until none of the brothers knew whether they were talking to Hlevné or to one of her sisters. And because of the Thialas’ wrath, the wonderful existence of the inhabitants in the Garden of Eyrthly Delights had gone to the dogs. Indeed, by then the place was no longer a Garden but rather Ethna-sathí, that is, the Moor of Pain and Suffering. No-one was carrying out his chores, and so the Thialas were hopping mad. And on top of that, what with everyone going around nude (they did not need fig-leaves at that time because the place was so warm), one thing led to another, as happens more often than not, and Hlevné and Dvaldí would sleep together ‘neath hedge and bush at every opportunity. After the appropriate time, therefore, but completely unexpected to both of them, there was Hlevné bringing a whelp into the hurly-burly world of Ethna-sathí.

 

Only a feeble shadow that had somehow escaped from my nightmares limped painfully over the plain. But as I myself stumbled my way forward, I couldn’t stop thinking about the horrid patch of dirty darkness trailing me. And, by Hebé the Grey, I realized out of the blue and to my great horror, that by speculating about its nature and circumstances, by naming it, I’d given flesh to a fictional beast, and released it to roam the Cruel Eyrth. And after that it would be stalking me and lurking round every corner. And eventually it would attack me to tear me from existence and blot me out. I started crying my eyes out then when I remembered myself as a little kid so full of good intentions but without the ability or the strength to fulfill them, although I had tried so very hard. And now I could see for certain that going to oblivion ranting and raving would be a true mercy, because I had not planted a single seed in the Cruel Eyrth’s cold soil to look after, nourish, and grow.

 

This son called Davuth was the first one to be created through the unclean practice of sexual intercourse, and, by Thiamath in Heli-hrelí, he was so tremendously powerful (in mind and magic at least, although not physical prowess, compared to Hlevné and Dvaldí, because he differed from both parents). He was so greedy that he stole all his mother’s strength, and by the time he was born, there was nothing left for her, and she died, causing the Moor to shake. As soon as he arrived, the other sisters also brought forth daughters and sons, and the first one to appear was a girl called Elena. Davuth grew up to be a man in forty days, and Elena matured at the same time (that is why this period is so important in legends and in fact). On the forty-first day, Davuth went to wash under a cascade of acid, as Elena lurked amongst the rushes. He got a glimpse of her, without her knowing, while she saw him, although he did not realize it. Two hearts leapt, and the two child prodigies immediately fell in love, secretly declaring that they would do anything for each other, though the one did not know the other from a huge lump of coal. How contemptible is lust!

 

I spent forty days and forty nights in the den of some long-dead beast up Kader Karatawk in the midst of the wasteland way beyond the Temple of the Hidden Glory {Kader Karatawk}. There was a very small hole, like a grave, at the back of the cave, where I lay down, and it was so dark. There was no room to swing a cat there. I can hear myself thinking that it’s impossible to remember darkness, it doesn’t satisfy, but steals something, leaving an insatiable itch to fill in the gap, and causing you to become addicted to it. And the oddest thing was that using a torch there would blind me, making the desire to see even worse. (Come to think of it, maybe it was more like forty hours I languished there in the lair in the Wilderness, some magic number anyway. Time started to lie to me then and has never quite become fully truthful again since).

 

And then, fed up with all the chaos and mess everywhere, not to mention the pain, and the suffering, and the despair, Davuth set about solving the problem. He decided that he needed to be tested, and he would try to do the impossible, and find a way towards the still centre of the Heath. Before he left, he packed a large hessian sack, and filled it with gadgets of all kinds for the journey. Now, it is fair to say that Elena was quite fond of him, if not besotted, although she did not know him. Intrigued by his mysterious air, she followed him, and hid herself in the sack. And so, he hauled himself, the sack containing the hidden traveller over his shoulder, across river and mountain, through marsh and over plain, until he reached the edge of the enchanted forest, full of thick thorns, as sharp as razor wire.

 

I drank the draught from the flask on the first day. My heart should have been beating quickly. It wasn’t. I should have been short of breath. I wasn’t. There was nothing in my mouth, but I could taste something sour. I was walking in utter darkness, and yet could see. Having said that, I could detect only a little, I felt even less, and I hardly gave a hen’s tooth about it. I wasn’t scared, for some reason, but sombre, and full of foreboding and angst. In the back of my mind, shapeless ideas plagued me. And then the answer hit me like a bolt of electric with burning feathers. Why should I be? I realized that I was the infection spreading everywhere. I was the nightmare disrupting everyone’s sleep. I was the guilt that made them tremble. I was the shadow of illness and fear. I was the beast stalking everyone from dawn to dusk to choke them to death. It wasn’t outside me, nor coming to get me. It was me. My skin was itching all over when I said the fateful words, “I am what I am. I must be myself.” And straight away I felt the other part of me, my better half (ha, ha!) the good, and loving, and playful little boy, who’d been my best friend since my childhood, galloping off sniffling pitifully. And then everything changed.

 

He had to fight his way through, with the roots, the branches, and the creepers growing back thicker and more dangerous every time he cut or burned them. But he persisted, getting lacerated, until he was at the point of death. In the very middle of the small forest, like an island of fairness, in a beautiful glade containing one enormous tree and a pitch-black pool, he found a muscular-fat figure sprawling on the branches of a pomegranate tree, laughing fit to burst, with a long, snakelike trunk, compound eyes, enormous ears, wiggly feelers, iridescent wings, ruby hooves, and lots of arms like a squid. And so, the strange chimera tempted the audacious creature that knew no fear, with the words: ”Greetings to the Day! Welcome Son of the Day! A blessing on Night’s Daughter who is of the same species as you, and who will be your wife! May the immortal stars look on both of you here with friendly eyes, and give you knowledge, and victory, and dominion in the end!”

 

Half a day, probably, after I had swallowed the concoction, and I couldn’t see clearly, and I was sure that my pupils were dilating despite the darkness. My mouth went very dry, I was getting flushed and feeling dizzy, and I had a terrible headache. My heart was beating quickly, and I wanted to throw up, and at the same time I felt hyperactive and my whole body was twitching.

 

Although he was young, and tired out, Davuth was the same age as his toes and a bit older than his teeth, and highly cunning. “Excuse me, most noble and kind Sir,” he said, “Truly the Thialas are domineering my people, and as a result we are a species on its way to extinction. But I’ve suffered so much on the way here, I don’t know who to trust, or what to believe anymore. I don’t understand the meaning of your fine words, nor how to respond, so I beg you to speak frankly.”

 

As the Cruel Eyrth melted around me, I started to see things, but not with my human eyes, as I was blind, although I knew the place was bathed in an uncanny green light. Turning to the left I realized that the rocks were not stalactites and stalagmites, but cruel, black fingers trying to catch me and tear me; when I cast a glance to the right, towards the mouth of the cave, I felt that the birds were not flesh and blood things, but miniature mechanical leeches, swarming wildly and trying to suck my blood. I was not myself either, but some lame, sickly creature that had been wandering for a long time (throughout my life, perhaps), under the control of animal instincts and beholden to its feelings, unable to follow the way of blind reason.

 

“Welcome, Brave Seeker!” replied the atrocious chimera, “I know, somehow, that you are starving for information about mysterious matters. Since I woke from my eternal dream, I have predicted many things whilst staring into this pond, full of my hot tears. That is the unforeseen gift of the foolish Thialas. I don’t know myself, but I think my name is Xlotlringku Vlaltanlu-tnalzse, and that only I am faithful to Zv-m’lkva, the Great Divinity, who created everything here in Vln-z’kno when he had stomach-ache, by vomiting out the Moon, and the Sun, and all the creatures. He is probably still working in some corner of the All-World today. But he speaks to me in the form of Lrm-p’zlu, I believe, standing on the crescent of the Fickle Moon with a black dove called Sen-drilon, and a white crow called Azpundel on her shoulders, and a flaming pit under her feet. Come, eat this strange fruit, and share my insight, and you can penetrate further into the secrets of existence. Heal yourself!”

 

I was utterly bewildered, hallucinating, losing my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about seeing, about things like hue, composition, contrast, focus, form, light, line, perspective, rhythm, and movement. I was tasting sounds, feeling colours, and hearing emotions. All the ideas were washing over me at the same time, and I was on fire and freezing. But like a broken-hearted man desperate capture love, or a dead woman who’d give anything to celebrate life, the only thing I could sense properly was gritty darkness swirling on both sides {Love's Toucan}. I can recall enquiring: “What’s the smell? Where’s the brushes, and the paint? Now I’m sleepwalking. The floor’s falling into a void. The ripe earth’s opening to swallow me. I’m falling. I’m flying. Catch me!” And then, I died.

 

But yet, although his strength was ebbing away, Davuth succeeded in resisting the beguilement of the tempting words. At the same time, Elena had climbed out of the sack and started to poke him in the hollow of his hip with a sharp twig, and as a result he managed to whisper, ”Sir, the more you speak, the less I understand. Explain, if you would be so kind!” Neither noticed Elena carefully collecting a great number of the sweet seeds lurking inside the hard skin of the red fruit.

 

I woke up, maybe, or was reborn, later, I’m not sure, I can’t say, it’s not me who was there, in a way, although I was aware of what was happening {Soul-Fish}. There was no choir of she-angels singing a serenade to welcome me, no trumpets blowing a fanfare. I wasn’t there, and then I was there. Where? The Seven Seraphic Sorcerers might know. A fine, sunny vista began to spread over the place, decorating it afresh, as the heavy, thick odour of a Summertide day filled my nostrils. First, I saw an unblemished and muscular lad, tanned, and with fervent eyes like the eyes of a fawn, and about him a horde of small, fat children playing and shouting. Long, fair, curly hair fell in waves over his shoulders, and he had a sweet smile on his lips. Upon his head was a gold diadem, and he had a pair of little wings sprouting from his back. He was carrying a fishing rod in his right hand. And in the palm of his left hand were seeds of all kinds, and I knew that they would grow into birds, beasts, trees, distress, bliss, truth, hatred, women and men, and beetles – and everything else to populate a Brave, New World. How I knew without being able to see, I can’t say, but I was sure, nonetheless.

 

“Ooh, my boy, slouching there on the grass, swooning for want of balsam! You’ve made a long and hard journey to reach this grove. For my part, I dream that I come from some other place, where there was once a large hall called Xatlaltvazsu before that World burned up in flame, and that Dv-r’drk Kl-n’lks was I, and I’ve fallen through a Tear between the Worlds full of living, black fluid. And as I fell, I have seen, and heard, and felt a great many things, though I do not understand the meaning of everything yet. Although I am not the one steering all these events, I do know a considerable number of secret things, since it is I who initiated some vicious cycle that will continue to turn until the end of time. I know, for example, the secret of your birth, why you are as you are, and how you will become the Father of a new race. Better for you to continue to follow the path to its end, and choose to be wise rather than innocent, so that you can see, and feel, and hear to the full, understanding all the secrets of life, and of death.”

 

The Young Fisherman was preaching about love, and peace, and satisfaction, saying, “The days will come, my friends, which will never end, when we can sing and dance forevermore, living whatever life we choose, and fighting without ever losing, and staying young, and getting to do as we like all the time.” His cheeks were red, and his voice so earnest but gentle, and his words so full of passion, that I felt I was falling in love with him, and melting, at the same time.

 

“Lord, I’m about to die, and I have no time to chatter,” said Davuth hoarsely, before fainting in a heap on the grass. But Elena prodded him sharply in his side with the ad-hoc lance, and he managed to sit up his weakly, adding, “But you’re right, I’m itching to know who I am before departing this existence, so do go on, and say what you have to say.”

 

The sprogs, who were running and capering like goat kids, murmured, “When the World ends, ends, ends; let us laugh, laugh, laugh; it is terribly hot, hot, hot.” Truth be told, I was feeling things words can’t describe, as if I was uniting with everything living, plants, animals, and people, having aroused a spark of the Cosmic Power, and started to tread the bright paths of the spirit. And whilst listening to the chirping kids, and also to the words that were sophophilic but as sweet and intoxicating as the Northishfolk’s sacred mead, I was filled with such peace and joy that I fell asleep, believing that my soul was dissolving. And then the thread broke, and I started to come apart, as I’d been expecting for so long. I fell without a single sound, carried on great wings, veiny and black as ink, belonging to some nameless, deathless creature. And at last, this darkest, voiceless being, with its shadowy claws and its gloom-ridden teeth, called the wind from the Nw Yrth.

 

“This is the truth, then, Davuth, as far as I know, about your existence on this Moor. You were conceived by your parents who did not know at all what they were doing. There was no particle of malice in their love, nor a single morsel of selfishness in their lust. There was little else either, and as a result, you are completely unique. And so, you were created as a spotless creature free from sin in your mother’s womb. And with that the curse of the Thialas began to loosen its grasp on the Heath. A month passed, and the snow disappeared. Two months passed and the whole Moor became green. Three months passed, and flowers blossomed in the soil. Four months passed, and the shoots of all the trees in this forest gained strength, squeezing against each other. The birds sang so loud that the forest resounded, and the flowers fell from the trees. The smell was so sweet that Hlevné’s heart jumped in her breast, and she fell down on her knees in joy. Six months passed, and the fruit grew heavy and strong, and she became peaceful. After seven months, she ate so much mandrake fruit that she felt sick and sad. When the eighth month passed, she called Dvaldí in tears, saying, ’If I die, bury me under that pomegranate tree in the very centre of the wood, in the very centre of the Heath of Pain and Suffering.’ And at the end of the ninth month, Hlevné brought forth a baby whilst lying under this pomegranate tree. And that is why nine months will be the length of the gestation-period for you the Thorlin from now on. She was so happy, she died on the spot. She was buried here under this very tree, and so the Thialas’ nightmare grasped the Garden once again, because of you. It is you who caused this whole disaster: you alone can undo it.”

 

I dreamed then that I was staring at the glossy face of some black mirror, and that I was the cunning Young Tempter looking back at me, who was working so hard to win the children’s hearts with his words: “There will be no dangers and no need to be careful or keep anything in store, or wash, or speak sensibly, or go to bed early. We will be able to crawl around in the mud, and get everything that’s now forbidden us, and play with bright, colourful toys, like a conjurer playing with balls, cups, handkerchiefs, cards, and trinkets. The hot-chocolate fountain will never run dry, the Abundant Planet will never withhold its sustenance, and there will be no crying anymore, just laughing.” And so energetically were they capering, and laughing, and shrieking, that they started to rise in the air as if they were being blown by a hurricane, flying higher and higher, and shooting around faster and faster. As he, or I, reached the peak of the speech, he was abruptly interrupted by another voice, a voice that was deep, and resonant, and dignified – “Silence! Stop! Obey!”

 

On hearing that, Davuth began groaning and writhing about pitifully, his eyes rolling in his head, and Elena indeed believed that he would die without delay. But as she caressed her sweetheart, and mopped his brow, and even gave him the kiss of life, the mixed-up animal went on, captivated by his own voice, and without, more than likely, noticing her at all —

 

O: Cariad, Colled, Chwilod

 

Ro’n i’n ymlwybro am gryn dipyn ar hyd yr hewlydd cart troellog yn ymganghennu o’r Ffordd Fawr yn cysylltu De Kimbria â'r Ddinas Fawr, Ddrwg fel gwythiennau gwaed wedi'u blocio, heb gwrdd ag enaid o neb. Mewn gwirionedd, ro’n i ar ‘mhen ‘yn hunan bach, ac yn sychedig a bron â llwgu. Ond eto i gyd, dyw hynny ddim yn hollol gywir; ro’n i’n caro rhywbeth, rhyw bethau, rhyw hanfodau croes tu fewn i fi. Tra mae diflastod o achos mynychder yn estyn amser a gofod, mae canolbwyntio ar agweddau o sefyllfa’n gwneud i’r dimensiynau ‘na fynd yn llai, fel dŵr poeth yn crebachu brethyn gwlân, ac roedd y gofod o ‘nghwmpas yn cau amdana i.

 

 

 

O: Hanes Diderfyn yr Eglwys Fyd-Eang Gysegr-lân

 

I ddechrau aeth Hlevné o gwmpas gan helpu a gofalu am Dvaldí a’i frodyr, ond dim ond un ohoni hi oedd, ac roedd hi bob amser wedi ymlâdd gan nad oedd hi’n gwybod pa un i’w gynorthwyo nesaf. Ymhellach, fe fyddai’r brodyr oll yn ffraeo i dynnu ei sylw. Felly fe benderfynodd hi eu dynwared nhw, a dechrau ei hollti ei hun hefyd, nes na wyddai’r un o’r brodyr a o’n nhw’n sôn â Hlevné neu ag un o’i chwiorydd. Ac oherwydd digofaint y Thialas, roedd bodolaeth fendigedig y trigolion yng Ngardd y Pleserau Daearol wedi mynd rhwng y cŵn a’r brain. Yn wir erbyn hynny nid Gardd mo’r lle mwyach ond yn hytrach Ethna-sathí, hynny yw, Rhos Poen a Dioddefaint. Doedd neb yn cyflawni’i gorchwylion, ac felly roedd y Thialas yn gwylltio’n enbyd. Ac ar ben hynny, rhwng pawb yn mynd o gwmpas yn noethlymun (doedd angen dail ffigys arnyn nhw y pryd hwnnw achos mor dwym oedd y lle), naeth y naill beth arwain at y llall, fel sy’n digwydd yn amlach na pheidio, ac fe fyddai Hlevné a Dvaldí yn cysgu gyda’i gilydd dan berth a llwyn bob gafael. Ar ôl yr amser priodol, felly, ond yn hollol annisgwyl i’r ddau ohonyn nhw, dyna lle’r oedd Hlevné yn dwyn cenau bach i fyd strim-stram-strellach Ethna-sathí.

 

Dim ond cysgod llesg wedi dianc o’n hunllefau i, rywsut, oedd yn hercian yn boenus dros y paith. Ond wrth i fi’n hunan faglu’n ffordd ‘mlaen, do’n i’m yn gallu rhoi’r gorau i ystyried y darn atgas o dywyllwch budr yn ‘yn hela i. A, neno Hebé Lwyd, nes i sylweddoli’n sydyn ac yn hollol ddirybydd, er mawr ddychryn i fi, taw drwy ddyfalu am ei natur a’i amgylchiadau, drwy’i enwi fe, ro’n i di rhoi cnawd i fwystfil ffuglennol, a’i ryddhau i grwydro’r Ddaear Greulon. Fe fyddai’n stelcian ar ‘yn ôl i wedyn ac yn llechu rownd pob cornel. Ac yn y pen draw byddai’n ymosod arna i i’n rhwygo i o fodolaeth a ‘nifa i. Dechreuais i lefain y glaw wedyn pan nes i gofio’n hunan yn grwt bach gyda wyneb fel angel, mor llawn o fwriadau da, ond heb y gallu na’r cryfder i’w cyflawni nhw, er i fi drio mor andros o galed. A nawr fe welwn i i sicrwydd byddai mynd i ebargofiant wrth regi a thaeru’n wir drugaredd, gan nad o’n i wedi plannu’r un hedyn ym mhridd oer y Ddaear Greulon i’w ofalu amdano, a’i faethu, a’i dyfu.

 

Roedd y mab hwn o’r enw Davuth yr un cyntaf i gael ei greu trwy ymarfer aflan cyfathrach rywiol, a, ‘neno Thiamath yn Heli-hrelí, mor andros o nerthol oedd e (o ran meddwl a hud o leiaf er nad cryfder corfforol, o’i gymharu â Hlevné a Dvaldí, am ei fod yn wahanol i’r ddau riant). Mor wancus oedd e, iddo ddwyn holl nerth ei fam, ac erbyn iddo gyrraedd, doedd dim ar ôl iddi, ac fe fuodd hi farw, gan beri i’r Rhos ysgwyd. Gyda’i fod yn cyrraedd, fe ddygodd y chwiorydd eraill ferched a meibion hefyd, a’r un gyntaf i ymddangos oedd merch o’r enw Elena. Fe dyfodd Davuth i fyny i fod yn ddyn mewn deugain niwrnod, a naeth Elena aeddfedu ar yr un pryd (dyna pam mae’r cyfnod hwn mor bwysig mewn chwedlau ac mewn ffaith). Ar yr unfed dydd ar ddeugain, fe aeth Davuth i ymolchi dan raeadr o asid, wrth i Elena lechu ymhlith y brwyn. Fe gafodd yntau gipolwg arni hi, heb yn wybod iddi, tra gwelodd hithau fe, er nad oedd e’n sylweddoli. Fe lamodd dwy galon, a syrthiodd y ddau blentyn rhyfeddol mewn cariad yn syth, gan ddatgan yn ddirgel y gwnaen nhw unrhyw beth i’w gilydd, er nad o’n nhw’n nabod ei gilyddd o’r nawfed ach. Mor warthus ydy chwant!

 

Fe hales i ddeugain niwrnod a deugain nos yn ffau rhyw fwystfil hen farw lan Kader Karatawk yng nghanol yr anialdir yn bell tu hwnt i Deml y Gogoniant Cuddiedig. Roedd twll bach iawn, fel bedd, yng nghefn yr ogof, ble gorweddwn i, ac roedd mor dywyll. Doedd dim lle i chwipio chwannen yno. Dw i’n gallu ‘nghlywed fy hunan yn meddwl taw amhosib yw cofio düwch, dyw e’m yn bodloni, ond yn dwyn rhywbeth, wrth adael chwant diwala i lenwi’r bwlch, a pheri i ddyn ddod yn gaeth iddo. A’r peth mwya od oedd byddai defnyddio tortsh yno’n ‘y nallu i gan waethygu’r awydd i weld. (Erbyn meddwl, falle taw ryw ddeugain awr o'n i'n gorwedd yno yn y llechfan yn y diffeithwch, rhyw rif hud ta be. Dechreuodd amser weud celwyddau wrtha i bryd 'ny, a dyw e ddim wedi mynd yn ôl i weud y gwir oddi ar 'ny chwaith).

 

Ac wedyn, wedi cael llond bol ar yr holl anrhefn a llanast ym mhobman, heb sôn am y boen, a’r dioddefaint, a’r anobaith, fe aeth Davuth ati i ddatrys y broblem. Fe benderfynodd fod arno angen cael ei brofi, ac y byddai’n ceisio bwyta uwd â mynawyd, a ffeindio ffordd tuag at ganol llonydd y Rhos. Cyn iddo ymadael, paciodd e sach fawr o hesian, a’i llenwi â theclynnau o bob math at y daith. Nawr, teg dweud bod Elena yn eitha hoff ohono, os nad yn gwirioni arno, er nad oedd hi’n ei nabod e. Dan gyfaredd yr olwg ddirgel arno, dilynodd hi fe, a’i chuddio’i hunan yn y sach. Ac felly ymlwybrai fe, a’r sach yn cynnwys y gudd-deithwriag dros ei ysgwydd, dros afon a mynydd, drwy gors a thros baith nes cyrraedd cyrion y goedwig swyngyfareddol, yn llawn drain trwchus, a miniog fel weiren rasel.

 

Yfes i’r ddiod o’r fflasg ar y diwrnod cynta. Dylai ‘nghalon fod wedi bod yn curo’n gyflym. Doedd hi ddim. Dylwn i fod wedi bod yn fyr ‘ngwynt. Do’n i ddim. Doedd dim byd yn ‘ngheg i ond ro’n i’n gallu blasu rhywbeth sur. Ro’n i’n cerdded mewn düwch eitha, ac eto’n gallu gweld. Wedi dweud ‘ny, do’n i’m yn gweld ond ychydig, ro’n i’n teimlo llai fyth, ac o’r braidd mod i’n malio’r un daten. Do’n i’m yn ofnus, am ryw reswm, ond yn brudd, a llawn rhagargoel ac ing. Yng nghefn fy meddwl roedd syniadiau di-siâp yn ‘mhlagio i. Ac wedyn fe ddaeth yr ateb fel bollt drydan gyda phlu ar dân. Pam dylwn i fod? Sylweddoles i taw fi oedd yr haint yn lledu ym mhob man. Fi oedd yr hunllef yn tarfu ar gwsg pawb. Fi oedd yr euogrwydd yn gwneud iddyn nhw grynu. Fi oedd cysgod salwch ac ofn. Fi oedd yr anghenfil yn stelcian pawb rhwng gwyll a gwawl i’w tagu i farwolaeth. Doed e ddim tu fa’s i fi nac yn dod i ‘nal i. Fi oedd e. Roedd ‘nghroen yn ysu droso i pan wedes i’r geiriau tyngedfennol, “Dw i’n nabod pwy dw i. Rhaid i fi fod fy hun.” Ac yn syth fe deimlai‘r rhan arall ohona i, ‘yn hanner gorau i (ha, ha!), y bachgen bach da, a chariadus, a chwareus gyda wyneb fel angel, oedd wedi bod yn ffrind grau i fi ers bore oes, yn carlamu bant dan sniffian’n druenus i ddianc rhag yr anghenfil Ac wedyn naeth popeth newid.

 

Roedd yn rhaid iddo frwydro ei ffordd trwodd, a’r gwreiddiau, y canghennau, a’r dringedyddion yn tyfu yn ôl yn fwy trwchus a pheryglus bob tro iddo eu torri neu’u llosgi. Ond parhaodd, gan gael ei garpio, fel mae e ar farw. Yng nghanol union y fforest fach, fel ynys tegwch, mewn llannerch hardd yn cynnwys un goeden enfawr a phwll purddu fe ddaeth e o hyd i ffigur cyhyrog-dew yn gorweddian ar ganghennau coeden bomgranad dan chwerthin yn ei ddyblau, ac iddo drwnc hir, sarffaidd, llygaid cyfansawdd, clustiau dirfawr, teimlyddion sigladwy, adenydd symudliw, carnau o ruddem, a llawer o freichiau fel môr-lawes. Dyna lle’r oedd y cimera rhyfedd yn denu’r creadur hyf na wyddai ddim o ofn, gyda’r geiriau: “Hawddamor y Dydd! Henffych Fab y Dydd! Bendith ar Chwaer y Nos sydd o’r un rhywogaeth â thi, ac a fydd yn wraig i ti! Boed i’r sêr anfarwol edrych ar y ddau ohonoch yma â llygaid cyfeillgar, a rhoi i chi wybodaeth, a buddugoliaeth, ac arglwyddiaeth yn y pen draw!”

 

Hanner dydd, siŵr o fod, ar ôl i fi lyncu’r trwyth, siŵr o fod, a do’n i ddim yn gallu gweld yn glir a ro’n i’n siŵr bod canhwyllau’n llygaid yn ymledu er gwaetha’r tywyllwch. Aeth ‘ngheg i’n sych iawn, ro’n i’n cochi ac yn madroni, ac roedd pen tost ofnadw ‘da fi. Fe gurai ’nghalon yn gyflym, ac ro’n i’n moyn taflu lan, ac ar yr un pryd ro’n i'n teimlo’n orfywiog ac roedd ‘nghorff i’n gweithio i gyd.

 

Er ei fod yn ifanc, ac wedi blino’n lân, roedd Davuth yr un oed â bawd ei droed ac ychydig yn hŷn na’i ddannedd, ac yn dra chyfrwys. “Esgusodwch fi, Syr mwyaf nobl a charedig,” meddai, “Mae’r Thialas yn tra-arglwyddiaethu ar fy mhobl yn wir, ac o ganlyniad rhywogaeth ar ei ffordd i ddifodiant ydyn ni. Ond dw i wedi dioddef gymaint ar y ffordd yma, dw i ddim yn gwybod pwy i ymddiried ynddo, na be i’w gredu rhagor. Dw i ddim yn deall ystyr eich geiriau teg, na sut i ymateb, felly erfyniaf arnoch i siarad yn blwmp ac yn blaen.”

 

Wrth i’r Ddaear Greulon doddi o ‘nghwmpas, fe ddechreues i’u gweld nhw, er nad gyda’n llygaid dynol, gan mod i’n ddall, er mod i’n gwbod bod y lle’n fôr o oleuni gwyrdd, annaearol. Wrth droi i’r chwith sylweddoles nad stalactidau a stalagmidau oedd y creigiau, ond bysedd du, creulon yn trio ‘nal i a’n rhwygo i; pan nes i daflu llygad mochyn i’r dde, tuag at enau’r ogof, fe deimles i nad pethau o gnawd a gwaed oedd yr adar, ond gelod bychain peiriannol yn heigio’n wyllt a cheisio sugno ‘ngwaed. Nage finnau’n hunan o’n i chwaith, dim ond rhyw greadur nychlyd, cloff oedd yn crwydro ers amser maith (drwy gydol ‘yn oes, falle) dan reolaeth greddfau anifeilaidd ac yn gaeth i’w deimladau, heb allu dilyn ffordd rheswm dall.

 

“Croeso, Chwiliwr Dewr!” atebodd y cimera ysgeler, “Dw i’n gwybod, rywsut, fod ti’n newynu am wybodaeth ynghylch materion dirgel. Ers i fi ddihuno o’m breuddwyd dragwyddol, dw i wedi darogan llawer o bethau wrth syllu ar y pwll yma, yn llawn o’m dagrau poeth. Dyna anrheg anrhagweledig y Thialas ffôl. Dw i ddim yn nabod ‘yn hunan, ond dw i’n credu taw Xlotlringku Vlaltanlu-tnalzse yw’n enw i, a taw dim ond fi sy’n ffyddlon i Zv-m’lkva, y Duwdod Mawr, a greodd bopeth yma yn Vln-z’kno pan oedd bola tost arno, drwy chwydu ma’s y Lloer, a’r Haul, a’r creaduriaid oll. Mae’n gweithio o hyd mewn rhyw gornel o’r Holl Fyd, siŵr o fod, heddiw. Ond mae’n siarad â fi ar ffurf Lrm-p'zlu, greda i, a hithau’n sefyll ar gilgant y Lloer Oriog a cholomen ddu o’r enw Sen-drilon, a brân wen o’r enw Azpundel ar ei hysgwyddau, a phwll o fflam dan ei thraed. Dere, bwyta’r ffrwyth rhyfedd ‘ma, a rhanna di fy mewnwelediad, a chei di dreiddio ymhellach i gyfrinachau bodolaeth. Iachâ di dy hun!”

 

Ro’n i’n moedro, yn rhith-weld, yn colli ‘mhwyll. Do’n i’m yn gallu peidio meddwl am weld, am bethau fel arlliw, cyfansoddiad, cyferbyniad, ffocws, ffurf, golau, llinell, persbectif, rhythm, a symudiad. Ro’n i’n blasu syniau, a theimlo lliwiau, a clywed emosiynau. Roedd y syniadau i gyd yn llifo drosta i ar yr un pryd, ac ro’n i ar dân ac yn rhewi. Ond fel dyn wedi torri’i galon sy bron â marw o eisiau dal cariad, neu fenyw farw fyddai’n torri ei gwddf i ddathlu bywyd, yr unig beth ro’n i’n gallu'i glywed yn dda oedd tywyllwch gronynnog yn chwirlïo o boptu. Dw i’n cofio i fi feddwl, “Beth yw’r arogl? Ble mae’r brwshys, a’r paent? Nawr dw i’n cerdded yn 'y nghwsg. Mae’r llawer yn syrthio i wagle. Mae’r ddaear aeddfed yn ymagor i’n llyncu i. Dw i’n cwympo. Dw i’n hedfan. Daliwch fi!” Ac wedyn, fe fues i farw.

 

Ond eto, er bod ei nerth yn mynd ar drai, fe lwyddodd Davuth i wrthwynebu hudoliaeth y geiriau deniadol. Ar yr un pryd roedd Elena wedi dringo mas o’r sach a dechau’i brocio fe yn afal ei glun gyda brigyn miniog, ac o ganlyniad fe lwyddodd yntau i sibrwd, “Syr, mwya’n y byd dych chi’n siarad, lleia’n y byd dw i’n deall. Eglurwch, os gwelwch chi’n dda!” Doedd y naill na’r llall yn sylwi ar Elena yn casglu’n ofalus lawer iawn o’r hadau melys yn llechu tu mewn i groen caled y ffrwyth coch.

 

Dihunes, falle, neu ges i’n ailgei, yn hwyrach, dw i’m yn siŵr, dw i’m yn gallu dweud, nage fi oedd yno mewn ffordd, er mod i’n sylweddoli be oedd yn digwydd. Doedd dim côr o angylesau’n canu serenâd i ‘nghroesawu i, dim trwmpedi’n chwythu ffanffer. Do’n i ddim yno, ac wedyn ro’n i yno. Ble? Y Saith Swynwr Seraffaidd a ŵyr. Ta be, dechreuodd golygfa heulog, deg ymdaenu dros y lle gan ei addurno o’r newydd, wrth i sawr trwm a thrwchus diwrnod o haf lenwi’n ffroenau i. Yn gyntaf gweles i lanc dihalog a chyhyrog, yn lliw haul, ac â llygaid tanbaid fel llygaid elain, ac o’i gwmpas liaws o blant bach, tew yn chwarae a gweiddi. Roedd gwallt hir, cyrliog golau’n donnau ar draws ei ysgwyddau, a gwên felys ar ei wefusau. Am ei ben roedd coronbleth aur, a phâr o adenydd bychain yn tyfu ma’s o’i gefn. Roedd e’n cario gwialen bysgota yn ei llaw dde. Ac yng nghledr ei law chwith roedd hadau o bob math, a gwyddwn eu bod nhw’n tyfu’n adar, bwystfilod, coed, gofid, gwynfyd, gwirionedd, casineb, gwragedd a gwŷr, a chwilod – a phopeth arall i boblogi Byd Newydd, Braf. Sut y gwyddwn heb allu gweld, dw i’m yn medru dweud, ond ro’n i’n siŵr serch hynny.

 

“Ww, ‘yn 'achan, yn gorweddian yna ar y glaswellt, yn llesgáu o eisiau balsam! Rwyt ti wedi gwneud taith hir a chaled i gyrraedd y llwyn ‘ma. O’m rhan innau, dw i’n breuddwydio mod i’n dod o ryw le arall, ble bu unwaith neuadd fawr o’r enw Xatlaltvazsu cyn i’r Byd ‘na losgi mewn fflam, a taw Dv-r’drk Kl-n’lks fues i, a mod i di syrthio drwy Hollt rhwng y Bydoedd yn llawn hylif du, byw. Ac wrth i fi gwympo, dw i wedi gweld, ac wedi clywed, ac wedi teimlo llawer iawn o bethau, er dw i’m yn deall ystyr popeth eto. Er nad fi sy’n llywio’r digwyddiadau hyn oll, gwybod cryn nifer o bathau cyfrin a wna bellach, am taw finnau a gychwynnodd ryw gylch anfad fydd yn dal i droi hyd ddiwedd amser. Dw i’n gwybod, er enghraifft, gyfrinach dy eni, pam yr wyt ti fel yr wyt ti, a sut y byddi di’n dod yn Dad i dras newydd. Gwell i ti ddal ati i ddilyn y llwybr at ei ddiwedd, a dewis bod yn ddoeth yn hytrach na diniwed, fel galli di weld, a theimlo, a chlywed i’r eithaf, gan ddeall pob cyfrinach bywyd, a marwolaeth.”

 

Roedd y Pysgotwr Ifanc yn pregethu am gariad, heddwch, a bodlondeb gan ddweud, “Fe ddaw’r dyddiau, ‘nghyfeillion, fyddan nhw fyth yn dod i ben, pan fyddwn ni’n gallu canu a dawnsio byth a beunydd, gan fyw pa fywyd bynnag fyddwn ni’n ei ddewis, a brwydro heb byth golli, ac aros yn ifanc, a chael gwneud fel y mynnom drwy’r amser.” Roedd ei fochau’n goch, a’i lais mor daer ond tyner, a’i eiriau mor llawn o angedd, nes i fi deimlo mod i’n cwympo mewn cariad â fe, a thoddi, ar yr un pryd.

 

“Arglwydd, dw i ar fin marw, a does amser da fi i ymddiddan,” meddai Davuth yn gryg, cyn llewygu mewn swp ar y glaswellt. Ond bu i Elena ei brocio’n rymus yn ei ystlys gyda’r waywffon dros dro, ac fe lwyddodd yntau i godi ar ei eistedd yn wan, gan ychwanegu, “Ond rydych chi’n gywir, dw i’n ysu i nabod pwy dw i cyn ymadael â’r fuchedd hon, felly ewch yn eich blaen, a dwedwch eich dweud.”

 

Fe furmurai’r plantos, oedd yn rhedeg a rhampio’n debyg i fynnod geifr, “Pan fydd y Byd yn gorffen, gorffen, gorffen; gadewch i ni chwerthin, chwerthin, chwerthin; mae’n ofnadwy o boeth, o boeth, o boeth.” Yn wir fe deimlwn i bethau na all geiriau eu disgrifio, fel ‘swn i’n uno gyda phopeth byw, yn blanhigion, anifeiliaid, a phobl, wedi codi gwreichion y Pŵer Cosmig, a dechrau rhodio llwybrau llachar yr ysbryd. Ac wrth wrando ar y crtys yn switio, a hefyd ar y geiriau athronyddol ond cyn felysed a meddwol â medd santaidd y Norsmyn, ges i’n llenwi â’r fath lonyddwch a llawenydd nes i fi syrthio i gysgu, gan gredu bod ‘yn enaid yn hydoddi. Ac wedyn fe dorrodd yr edefyn, a nes i ddechrau dadelfennu, fel ro’n i di bod yn disgwyl cyhyd. Nes i gwympo heb yr un sain, wedi ‘nghario ar adenydd mawr, gwythiennog a du fel inc, yn perthyn i ryw greadur anfarwol, dienw. Ac fe alwodd y bod di-lais, tywyllaf hwn wynt o’r Nw Yrth o’r diwedd, â’i grafangau o gysgod a’i ddannedd o wyll.

 

“Dyma’r gwirionedd, felly, Davuth, am wn i, ynglŷn â’th fodolaeth ar y Rhos hon. Fe gefaist ti dy genhedlu gan dy rieni na wyddent o gwbl beth wnaent. Doedd yr un gronyn o falais yn eu caru, na’r un smotyn o hunanoldeb yn eu blys. Doedd fawr o beth arall chwaith, ac o’r herwydd, hollol unigryw wyt ti. Ac felly y crëwyd ti’n greadur dilychwyn a heb bechod yng nghroth dy fam. A chyda hynny fe ddechreuodd melltith y Thialas lacio’i gafael ar yr Rhos. Aeth mis heibio, a diflannodd yr eira. Aeth dwy fis heibio ac aeth y Rhos i gyd yn wyrdd. Aeth tri mis heibio, a blagurodd blodau yn y pridd. Aeth pedwar mis heibio, a chryfhaodd sbrigynnau’r holl goed yn y fforest hon, gan wasgu ar ei gilydd. Canai’r adar mor uchel nes bod y goedwig yn atseinio, a’r blodau’n cwympo o’r coed. Roedd yr arogl mor felys nes i galon Hlevné neidio yn ei brest, ac aeth hithau ar ei phenliniau mewn llawenydd. Aeth chwe mis heibio, a thyfodd y ffrwyth’n drwm ac yn gryf, a daeth hithau’n llonydd. Ar ôl saith mis, fe fwytodd hi gymaint o ffrwyth y mandrag nes iddi deimlo’n sâl ac yn drist. Pan aethai’r wythfed mis heibio, fe alwodd ar Dvaldí yn ei dagrau, gan ddweud, ‘Os bydda i farw, cladda di fi dan y goeden bomgranad honno yng nghanol union y coedwig yng nghanol union Rhos Poen a Dioddefaint.’ Ac ar ddiwedd y nawfed mis, esgorodd Hlevné ar faban wrth orwedd dan y bomgranadwydden hon. A dyna pam mai naw mis fydd hyd y cyfnod cario i chithau’r Thorlin o hyn ymlaen. Mor hapus oedd hi, iddi farw yn y fan a’r lle. Fe gladdwyd hi yma o dan yr union goeden hon, a gafaelodd hunllef y Thialas yn yr Ardd unwaith eto felly, o’th hachos di. Tydi a achosodd yr holl drychineb hon: tydi’n unig all ei dadwneuthur.”

 

 

Ro’n i’n breuddwydio wedyn mod i’n rhythu ar wyneb llathraidd rhyw ddrych du, a taw finnau oedd y Temtiwr Ifanc, cyfrwys yn edrych yn ôl arna i, a weithiai mor galed i ennill calonnau’r plant gyda’i geiriau: “Fydd dim peryglon a dim rhaid bod yn ofalus na chadw rhywbeth yn stôr, nac ymolchi, na siarad yn synhwyrol, na mynd i’r gwely’n gynnar. Byddwn ni’n gallu cropian o gwmpas yn y llaid, a chael popeth a waherddir i ni ar hyn o bryd, a chwarae gyda theganau lliwgar, disglair, fel consuriwr yn chwarae â pheli, cwpanaid, hancesi, cardiau, a thlysau. Aiff y ffynnon siocled poeth fyth yn hysb, fydd y Blaned Doreithiog fyth yn cadw’i maeth yn ôl, a fydd dim llefain rhagor, dim ond chwerthin.” Ac mor egnïol ro’n nhw’n prancio, a chwerthin, a bloeddio, nes iddyn nhw ddechrau codi yn yr awyr fel petaen nhw’n cael ei chwythu gan gorwynt, gan hedfan yn ucha ucha, a saethu o gwmpas yn gyflymach gyflymach. Ac yntau, neu finnau, yn cyrraedd anterth yr araith, fe dorrwyd ar ei draws yn ddisymwth gan lais arall, llais bas, a soniarus, ac urddasol – “Tewch! Peidiwch! Ufuddhewch!”

 

O glywed hynny, aeth Davuth i riddfan a gwingo’n druenus, a’i lygaid yn troi yn ei ben, a chredai Elena yn wir y byddai farw heb oedi. Ond wrth iddi fwytho’i chariad, a sychu’i dalcen, a rhoi iddo gusan bywyd, hyd yn oed, aeth yr anifail cymysglyd ymlaen, wedi’i swyno gan ei lais ei hun, a heb, debyg iawn, sylwi arni o gwbl —