It is the essential talent of acting, on the part of individuals and societies, that keeps the Human World from exploding. Of course, when we are babies, we cannot defend ourselves from everything outside us in the World, and we take on the shape of whoever influences us from day to day, as it were. But when we leave our babyhood, we begin to learn how to act, in order to play our parts in life’s great drama. And then we put make up on our faces, and don fancy-dress, whilst changing constantly. We use one mask after the other to hide our immature personalities, whilst all the time practising an exceptionally complex art-form, namely how to survive in this false and deceptive World, and get on together without too much pain {Masks}. But soon we choose one of the costumes which appears most fitting, to hide behind from then on. At the same time, although we are expected to change our physical appearance during our life, we are not supposed to change our essence as individuals. For the most part, society considers that we should remain the same throughout our lifetime. And so, everyone plays a cruel and exhausting game, pretending to be a variety of characters in different circumstances. It is enough to totally confuse you.

 

Every one of us deceives themselves that this collection of manufactured characters is who she or he really is. We are trapped, therefore, as too little acting leads the World to destruction, whilst too much of it leads an individual to the mental hospital. It is no surprise that there is so much chaos and confusion in our World. But this attitude and this behaviour are not correct! Life is a learning-process, and one’s personality, and her intelligence, and her abilities, can change throughout her life. It is all-important to realize that through learning, that is through living, frustration turns into confusion, and then into illumination. It is you who can create and mould yourself to be the person you want to be. I have decided to assist the tragic Eyrth to find its true self once and for all, beginning amongst the common folk. And that is why I left my cushy life and my easy job in that Malicious Madhouse (where most of the staff themselves need to have in-depth treatment, to be perfectly honest), and came to work amongst the dregs of society here in Hellsgate, whilst slumming it in Comrades’ Hall. I have recovered my health to a great extent by now after all the jolly japes amongst the nobs, thank goodness. My company, ‘‘The Fickle Fol-de-Rols’ (only me at present), is experimenting with theatrical community therapy, and I intend to succeed here despite my previous failures. I owe it to myself, to my beautiful and wild son, and his unmentionable late father, to do that.

 

— Helen Balrog Grossmann,

‘Screams from the Outskirts:

Chapter 1: To begin at the beginning.’ 

 

 

At last, friends, here’s the ultimate revelation, by your humble narrator, Dá·hwyth Baldrog Prok·ethra, the Rosy Fortress’s Chief Wizard (there’s a quaint name for you, but I’m trying to be completely correct) [1]. I’ve hated delaying before revealing more up to now, but I’ve been working very hard to present the case as it developed at the time, from my viewpoint at least. I’m only a fallible individual like everyone else, after all, despite my outstanding talents, and my fearful ambitions, but I pray (in a manner of speaking, as this kind of act is totally futile without a doubt) that I’ve succeeded in my exceedingly far-reaching aims. 

 

So, to start, I must remind you that the whole world has accepted the Maka Theory for ages now [2], that is, that every Planet is one incredibly complex beast, a thing almost totally incomprehensible, where the other creatures on it (if they exist) are like cells, or play the part of biological molecules, or nervous impulses, and the cities are like organs, and the forests like lungs, and the seas and rivers like blood and vessels, and the winds like breath. We cannot see it, although it is everywhere around us. We cannot touch it, although we are all parts of it. It makes me laugh out loud thinking of Daud waxing eloquent about how he'd initiated the "organic transformation machine" with his clumsy conjurations, but there you are. He certainly was perceptive about the details and how things would work in general, though.

 

A most important part of the message of the Indolent Idolaters (who represent our desires and potential as a species, perhaps, or our collective imagination), was that in their turn, the Planets themselves, and the Solar Systems, and the Clusters, and the Galaxies, are parts of an even bigger organism, and so on, so that the whole Universe is one super-organism. It lives on the transformation of energy, as it were, on the flow of information, on constant change, and as it feeds, and grows, and evolves, it’s working like some cosmic reckoning machine that stores and processes knowledge, trying to answer the unanswerable question: What is the purpose of existence?

 

In our back-yard, then, the whole Eyrth is like some Chimera which was born originally when the Planet came to be from the cloud of star-dust around the Sun about 4.5 billion years ago. (I would always be pleasantly surprised to listen to my Sister, Mrs Blodeuwedd Grossmann, reciting and debating eloquently regarding this, based on her recurrent dreams about the inception and end of the World.) The Chimera has been lying in a deep sleep thus far, but as it has snored, and broken wind, tossing and turning, it has given birth to every living thing. In time, it has created and killed completely thoughtlessly, in a tortuous process that has led to us, Humanity, today. Of course, the Human Race needs to imagine, to build, and to eat, in order to survive, and flourish, and grow, and so we have devised faiths, cities, and machines. But, at the same time, one must confess that we are living under three constraints, namely the constraint of blind dogma, the constraint of inflexible societal conventions, and the constraint of matter, energy, and physical laws. Furthermore, we always need to fight against something, or we will wither and die, and so up to now some amongst us at least have been contending with superstition arising from uncertainty and fear, with prejudice, unfairness, and oppression in society, and also against the merciless elements of nature. Here you have the greatest mystery of human existence: with such great ability comes so much pain, which is inevitable but totally essential. 

 

Although very many people across the Globe believe that we are now on top of the ziggurat of life, in truth, we are nothing but cogs of flesh, and blood, and bone in the organic engine. Without our knowing it, its sublime imaginings reach out for us and weave through us like penetrating tentacles to interfere with us, subconsciously but for certain. “In the House of Rebirth at Relyé, will awake the dreamer Hu·thulu,” says Prophetess Arianithi, in 'A Zethlizvlé the Klantíaré hré' (that is, 'Dē Serpentis Arcānīs,’ or 'Regarding the Secrets of the Snake'). In the past, Humanity has been too busy trying to scrape its existence to cause too much damage to the Planet. But, as we have done this, we have been filling up the mental vaults of the planetary device we’re all parts of, with every one of our feelings, and thoughts, with our dreams about the past and our nightmares about the future. The World is thus functioning as a stupendous battery which amasses psychic energy.

 

We create this type of energy all the time, as individuals and collectively, but once it’s joined the source, it’s not possible to control it with any degree of certainty, confidence, or consistency. This is the Unstoppable Force which is constantly ebbing and flowing, waxing and waning, according to the rules that steer chaotic development, creating wondrous "fractal" patterns. From the very beginning, powerful individuals have existed, poor or wealthy, plebeian or noble-born, wise or foolish alike, who can feel and use the Unstoppable Force to create and transform, whether through birth, or accidental training, or complete luck. These talented people have the ability to ride the tempest without waking the Chimera, so that it appears they are commanding the indescribable force. But despite that, they are merely helping the living energy, which unendingly rises and falls, to complete its own ends, rather than using it and squandering it. It is we, the Wizards, who have learned over the centuries since Sorakados’ Journey, how to do this best, and have been hard at it finding such people, and training them, teaching them the secrets of the craft. Of course, at the same time, there were some others amongst the majority who lacked this superb ability, but who wanted to control and oppress nevertheless. It was they who would develop techniques of symbolic sorcery to achieve their aim. And thus the war of attrition went on without respite year after year. 

 

Well, it’s obvious that the human population has been growing exponentially, even as we destroy terrible numbers of other species year on year. And at the same time the contents of the psychic reservoir has continued to become more and more complex and unstable, with the pressure increasing too what with all the fears and desires of the billions living, and suffering, and dying. Comparatively recently, we, Humanity, had reached the point where we considered that there was nothing whatsoever superior to us. Therefore, our governors, our spokespersons, our representatives – the politicians, the priests, the scientists in unison – set about it like a tribe of power-crazed megalomaniacs to plunder everything, from the Unseen Jungles of the West to the New Green Land, and to enslave us ourselves in the same way. 

 

We were not fighting against greater forces anymore, but against each other, wasting our whole ability to change and develop. We were on the verge of losing the whole productive effort, and the appropriate necessary suffering, whilst falling inwards, shrivelling and weakening as it were, rather than flying towards the stars. And that was what the Seven Seraphic Sorcerers wanted above all. On the other hand, now there are so many of us, and we have developed the ability to scour everything completely off the face of the Eyrth sooner or later, including ourselves, through climate change and global warming, or atomic bombs, or poisoning the oceans.

 

In the present World, the International Committee on Faith and Morals legislates prohibitively on every aspect of public and private behaviour, governing with an iron fist. the Military Mercantile Union controls supply and demand in every market throughout the World. And the Commission of Independent Broadcasting Agencies provides bread and circuses to a population which has become so stupefied that their brains are turning to mush. This is the ‘Iniquitous Trinity’ foreseen by the Silver-Tongue. And if we were to give up fighting and developing, or to delete most of the living beings off the Eyrth, that would be a terrible blow to the Chimera, although other forms of life would evolve in due course, over countless millennia, probably. 

 

So, with the most powerful, and able, and greedy minority amongst us wreaking havoc on the rest of us, and the Planet, as our minds ran wild, the time had arrived when the sleeping Chimera’s superb senses would rouse its immune system. And at that time, it would attack us, Humanity, as if we were a virus, in order to punish us terribly whilst keeping the other creatures alive, and then promoting them so the they would take over. It’s one thing to fight and suffer from growing pains to keep on changing and thus to survive and mature, but it’s another thing to go to complete destruction, of course. It is that terrifying idea – that powerful, new species could become all-important on the Eyrth – which impelled all my efforts. 

 

It was I amongst all the other Wizards who discerned – and accepted – that we are not the ultimate source of the Unstoppable Force, by a long way, although a very important part of it derives from our society and our culture now, and it is we who can understand it, and channel it, and steer it best. I wanted to fight back against the two competing evils, namely atavism and self-destruction, by harnessing the phenomenal power we release so carelessly, which circulates in the Planet’s spirit as it were, causing dreams and nightmares, and igniting desires, and fantasies, and hopes. To speak plainly, I wanted to stop Humanity from being swept away forever, or from being cast down and forgotten at least.

 

At the start, it was only I who believed in such a dream, but in no time, I realized that the Human Race could not complete the task of surviving and flourishing in its present form, and there would be the need for substantial interference in our own development, in order to aid the natural forces, should we say, and give evolution a helping hand. I’ve been scheming throughout my adult life, therefore, to invite the Seven Seraphic Sorcerers (who represent our super-ego, perhaps) to materialize on the Eyrth, to spark the Second Scientific Revolution, and after that, for us to be able to defeat them, and gobble up their power. (And in this matter, several other people had similar ideas, which they had stolen from me, but their motivations were completely incorrect, and they desired to seek their own advantage at the expense of everyone else.) By fighting against them directly, rather than their servants, I knew that we would suffer terribly, but become enormously stronger as a result. 

 

And furthermore, I thought, those who were too weak would be – deleted from the game – as it were, without us ourselves having to get rid of them. Dividing the wheat from the chaff, I believe, is the name for such a process. In accordance with the teaching of the Blind Seer Thoahatha, dating back to the period of Sorakados’ Sojourn, the bestial Elohi would then be able to absorb the might of the Telok-vovim, to overthrow the fragile but oppressive Morulku. Poetic language, perhaps, but the idea’s correct nevertheless. And at the same time, I would be giving back to those who deserved it their native power, enabling them to mould their own lives, be the results positive or negative. Then, Deklo would turn into Thehelo, uniting the strength of the Sorcerers and the understanding of the Idolaters, technology and craft, the awesome power of asterergy and the organic elegance of pottery. Perhaps, I hoped, with my cruel help, they would spread their brand-new wings and go to visit the Cosmos in due course – by fair means of foul – and before the Resplendent Sun exploded in a fireball at least!

 

After I recovered following my extremely dangerous trip to the Nw Yrth as a stripling youth, I realised very slowly that I myself could never go back there, because, if I succeeded to reach the place at all, I would be but a stunned and crazy child, who would perish at once. I saw that I would not be able to accomplish all this under my own steam, and over the years, therefore, I have collected followers – that is, supporters, fellow-workers, friends, and co-conspirators – around me. At last, I succeeded – we succeeded. The World had reached the fateful time. Our enemies in the Iniquitous Trinity had discovered our campaign, but too late. They did not yet control everything under the Sun, and we had started to seize the reins from them to a greater extent each month, under the cover of our psychological activities here in the Centre (that is, the Clinic). We needed to concentrate on the children, who were more inclined to believe in our suggestions and accept our training, and much more powerful, and therefore more useful, than the adults in any case. 

 

An excellent place to recruit them was the war zone in the Heart of the Continent – consider the genetic factors, the ever-present productive fear, and the native folk-magic – and look at who the Old Holy Warrior found there: a trinity of young people who would be awfully important when we recreated them here. Daud, Jelena, and Stjepan. The Lout, the Princess, and the Man-bull. David, Helen, and Steffan. Lushfé, Tefnuth, and Swtakh. Dá·hwyth, Elena, and Stharafan. And when we had begun to gain ground, we needed to maintain order, and subdue resistance without wavering in order to begin things afresh. At last, some entity must have fulfilled the sacrifice on the stone in the middle of the Sorrowful Field appropriately, according to the wishes of the Old Masters. I can hear the heavens resounding – “Yk’k, yk’k wd’ny! Yk’k b’blwn yk’k! Ws’rs, yk’k, yk’k!” – still, as if the horrible chattering is never going to fade!

 

And here indeed are the Seraphic Sorcerers now, striding over the face of our Green-blue World without hindrance. But they had not realised that they would be forced to unite with the Indolent Idolaters in order to cross the Void between the Worlds. And once the Mournful Gate had opened, there was no turning back. And so it is. Here they are running wild, spreading destructive creativity (or creative destruction), whilst sowing the seeds of transformation, as Humankind gets changed, struggling ferociously. But while the Seven play, and interfere, and experiment in every corner of the Eyrth, one of them, who used to be a member of their Guild, and who’s played an exceptionally important part in this tale, namely Swtakh, has been left behind to rule the Nw Yrth in vain from his Excruciating Blue Steel Hive, it appears. Swtakh’s fundamental problem was that he did not want to remain exactly the same, as did his comrades, and by embracing change, he fractured his personality, and exiled himself from the shared power of the group. So, he needed to try to seize snippets of power whenever he could from then on. Well, he’s got what he wanted at last, anyway. Eternal life without the others, and complete control; but on terms he would never have imagined or chosen, based on what I can discern in my inter-dimensional scrying-glass at least [3]. 

 

Now, perhaps there has been a strong connection between Swtakh and several other characters in this complex story, all along, namely the Old Holy Warrior, the Father, the fake-Wizard, the Old Soldier, and the Schoolmaster. I would like to say that they all share the same essence by now, if they didn’t do that from the outset. In the case of these men, anyway, they have received their just deserts, in the same way as their Master, and now they appear like some of our new chimeras, but ones which change ceaselessly from one form to the other whilst suffering uncommon punishments of all kinds. But after sixteen years they become men again for a year and a day, in order to connive, and quarrel, and remonstrate with each other, and fight in vain, before restarting their torment. Well, never mind that. Here, it’s as if the Eyrth has been immersed in a cauldron of very tasty, jet-black ambrosia, which its inhabitants cannot prevent themselves from swallowing down, which provides abilities that would have been beyond imagining some years before.

 

Well, time is flying by incredibly fast, isn’t it, and I – we – have changed the established order of the World by introducing completely new ways of being, and terrifyingly revolutionary ideas. The old ritual forces of nature, namely air, water, metal, earth, and fire, had long passed their use-by date. I had to invent some new ones, and seven seemed like a magical number. My idea was that the new elements should combine a set of oppositions, containing the sum-total of the Universe, namely: ‘fire and water’ – ‘light and dark’ – ‘pain and release’ – ‘losing and winning’ – ‘life and death’ – ‘emptiness and fullness’ – ‘creating and destroying.’ And once again I succeeded in doing that, thanks to the Seven Old Masters, after spending an inordinate time prancing around a bonfire on top of a spiral tower until I fell down from exhaustion. Talk about the unfettered creative and transformative powers we’ve been able to control by means of the Oldest Spell of Naming and Binding! 

 

We have learned so much from the Sorcerers about their work on the Harsh Planet. Here in the Centre’s secret laboratories, we have been hard at it breaking new ground in the brand-new field of Crypto-zoology, mixing nanobot technology with genetic engineering to create shocking hybrid species. We have succeeded in performing miracles, almost, depending on the sense of the word ‘miracle’ in your idiolect (needless to say that I am speaking figuratively here). And without a doubt we have begun to make advances in our task of transforming the Cosmos (well, we’re starting here on the Eyrth!). On top of that, with our help, the United Independent Educational Institutions of Aberdydd and the Region have become key players on the world-wide stage. No surprise there, as it’s Professor Jelena Pekar who’s chairing the UIEI Committee.

 

Amongst the long list of stunning successes, we have the following. We have created exceptional artificial beings in the shape of people, which walk, and talk, and think, and work, to be companions for us, and to assist us. They will never die of natural causes, and can do almost unbelievable things. And we have built a Portal to alternative dimensions like Krondí’s Mirror, using stainless steel, the tears of martyrs, and the nightmares of the pure in heart. I cannot stop imagining these, our incarnations fashioned of plastic, and stainless steel, and silicon, venturing as far in space as the Dog Star in the Southern Reach, and the Troubadour’s Gate, and visiting galaxies by Nimrod’s Shoulder, carrying our unequalled consciousness in them. This technology is still in its infancy, of course, and we do not know where they are sent. Also, there are frequent accidents which cause the synthetic people to discorporate, spreading the particles in them, and more importantly, the information, to who-knows-where. But rather than considering this a tragedy, we quickly realised that this would be a much better way of planting the seeds of the new humanity in the furthest corners of the All-World, and now we constantly broadcast detailed symbolic plans through the Portal to tempt – and entrap – other conscious beings.

 

It is so easy to connect your body to the host of new devices, whilst changing your consciousness with the Black Gold, and in general, everyone has been surprisingly keen to play such games. We have ensured all this so that everyone will accept the New World Order without a second thought. (Of course, this isn’t a Perfect Eyrthly Order, that would lead, we know, to stagnation, and then, in the end, to death.) And as all this happens under the stern control of our best friends on the scarcely-mentionable International Technocratic Council, we in the Centre are becoming richer than ever, not to mention more and more powerful. And that’s in addition to all the profit that’s coming in from the Black Gold and the Otherworldly Beans. Oh, I must mention Stevie too, Satharāfanu, who is now of independent means, having come across some exceedingly valuable antique in the form of a pyramid or ziggurat, which used to belong to his Uncle, the Old Soldier. Although the Skilled Leader didn’t succeed in becoming a numerologist whilst studying in the old Education Factory, he has considerable talent in developing machines and instruments. And with all the money, he’s been able to invest in creating engines to externalize the imagination and make desires real. Oh, by the way, by means of our biomechanical thought-sharing engine, it’s possible now to read the secrets of a man’s heart, and multiply his joy, and steal his peace, and see the depths of his despair, also. (As it happens, that crafty and loquacious imp called Lonelihahi who appeared from nowhere, has been very helpful in this matter.)

 

Of course, the inventors of all these miracles could not predict every outcome, nor the chain of events that would follow in their wake. In the verdant forests that were previously desert, tiny new creatures are appearing with blood that can dissolve steel and concrete. The pioneering transplant technology has established a most profitable black market in bodies, organs, and minds, and whilst the armies have changed, the wars continue. On top of that, of course, although the ITC is working so hard to hide the fact, those who have the new surgery are never the same again, although it can prolong life substantially.

 

I am not very fond of that silly word ‘zombie’ (I’m no hack-writer for the gutter-press), but the creatures who appear at the end of the process are quite different from what they were before. Better that than being dead, or very ill, or in enormous pain, I suppose. It’s very interesting (and quite surprising), that the majority want to go to swim in the sea every day, or dig deep holes and sleep in them, or climb trees and swing from branch to branch several times a day. And it’s very fortunate that only a few of them insist on trying to fly by jumping off tall buildings. But of course, they can also taste sounds, and feel colours, see in the dark, sense thoughts, cause plants to grow wildly, and communicate remarkably clearly with animals of every kind. What with all the revolutionary foods we have produced which are selling as if the World were ending, and the beneficial supplements being put in the water supply, there are a lot of developments taking place. Men are getting muscular, strong, and very hairy, like werewolves. Children are growing scales and gills, like merpersons. And what about the women who are sprouting beaks and beautiful, feathery wings? As soon as they accept the irrevocable situation, and then get used to their new forms of life, they begin to enjoy quasi-human existence, it seems to me. Everything is so exciting, and it means that society has had to adapt considerably. 

 

Whilst people, institutions, and morals have been changing so much and so quickly – in body, soul, and mind, one could say – the World-Wide Church has not been able to maintain its authority over them, and has torn itself apart. Now the Missionaries of Peace are fighting against the Church Militant, as the Independent Tabernacles campaign to convert the Faithful Brothers and Sisters to their interpretation of the Old Books. Here, we’ve been cooperating closely with the Chapel of Non-Denominational Enquiry which shares many of our aims. It is us then, who’ll be filling the gap, helping the common folk to control their new, complex patterns of thinking; to use their strange, new physical forms, and to develop their new, inhuman souls, beyond all the old, human constraints.

 

And to crown it all, we’ve discovered – or created – a group of excellent leaders for the new generation, ones who already have wondrous powers and noteworthy abilities to be polished, honed – and disciplined. These powers are neither good nor bad. We teach the young trainees the science of causing change in accordance with the will, in the most effective way possible. That is, the ability of mind to overcome matter – and just as important, the ability of one mind to overpower the other. I see myself as good shepherd to a stubborn flock; spiritual leader to the black sheep of the Human Race, if you like. By now, Satharāfanu, Skilled Leader of the Superheroes’ Union is looking after most of the practical matters from day to day. And Oh, what a rich and fruitful imagination he has! He’s creating entire Other Worlds with the latest virtual-reality tools, for the Z-People to play in. Sad to say, David and Helen belonged to the old order to such a degree that they wouldn’t have survived amongst the Alternative Youth of today, those awkwardly beautiful children. Their time had passed. Hmmm, come to think of it: Sīc trānsit glōria Mundī! 

 

Previously, the majority of the great unwashed did not think they existed, the Seven Seraphic Sorcerers, but they know for definite that they are here now. And that’s because we must all unite to try and keep this common enemy at bay. Through the last year, we’ve been working like madmen to summon and bind the essence of the Old Masters, one by one, in order to control better the seven new forces of nature. On Loavesfest, we caught the shade of Nuthkí in a pop bottle; Isheth’s tentacles shrivelled at the Autumntide Equinox; Lushfé’s flame went out on All Hallows’ Day; in a puff of logic Wezir disappeared on the Wintertide Solstice; Hebé the Grey turned into a hobby-horse New Year’s Eve; at the Vernal Equinox Tefnush found true love; and Nebesh’s tears ran dry on Mayhem-day. Having said that, while we are able to catch them for a while, they keep on getting their tentacles, and their hooves, and their mandibles, free, all the time, one after the other. But it is so dangerous, and so invigorating, and so important to fight rabidly against them.

 

Soon, the date of the strawberry moon shall arrive. The Summertide Solstice. I wonder whether the new Youngest Wizard – the First amongst Equals, called Elfan Baldrog Bacster, who’s sixteen years old – is ready to be honoured? He’s so incredibly powerful, but like his Father, he also tends to be disorganized and undisciplined. But now that things have come as far as this, now that the wheel has begun to turn faster and faster, there’s no returning to the old dispensation, whatever the young whelp does. I’ve heard on the grapevine that he’s managed to solve the Sevenfold Charm in his own way, forming a new meaning from the abstruse symbols, from the ever-changing words. And of course, that was an essential element in the plan, as his Father had fashioned the piece in the first place, more than likely, or at least had discovered it and incorporated it in the heart of his magical practices. It’s completely true that Daud was a master of languages. But the myriad details remain to be revealed, and the struggle to survive will force the Son to become lord over his transformational powers, whilst finding his own true voice for the first time. And it’s appropriate that he should be the one to ascend to the zenith, releasing his Father, and completing the ceremony. 

 

In some sense, however, my stratagem must already have succeeded, to some extent at least, as we are all here still, and flourishing – as I said above, more or less: “At last, someone must have accomplished the sacrifice appropriately, according to the Old Masters’ wishes.” I believe that Elfan is going to sing (or howl!) with his seyko-punk band, The Seven Cheeky Monkeys – that’ll mean endless hours of noise that’s enough to split your head open, then! Well, at least the whole palaver will be nothing like the bad old days when the candidate would have to prance around in a white tunic and green belt. But then again, it’s true that I’m looking forward to wearing the long, scarlet gown with gold stars on, and the black pilleus, and to brandishing my six-foot pine magic-wand with red rwnen.

 

Dai will, one can hope, celebrate an initiation ceremony this time, too. Or, perhaps we should say that David already has experienced a rite of passage. Such uncertainty and confusion is a sign of the enormous problem with our usual concepts regarding time, needless to say. So forgive me from misusing grammatical tenses here! But whenever it happened, or it will happen, it’s a baptism of fire indeed, how poetic! The opposite element to fire is water, of course, and the prospective Youngest Magician has intimated to me that it’s Pafunethu, servant to the Indolent Idolaters, who snatched the lad, saving him from the talons of Zuvnirathé, who was summoned by the fake-Wizard. You’ll remember that that’s the Black Goat of the Forest who has Thousands of Young, symbol of the Sun, and the sharp knife of consciousness. And she’s constantly feeding on light whilst destroying it completely. That’s interesting, as Pafunethu is personification of the Moon and the seas of the unconscious, and he has a goat’s head and a woman’s body, and in the middle of his brow is a shining star. 

 

Then again, I’m not a linguist, but it’s obvious to me that the name Pafunethu means ‘the ability to sing as powerfully as the sea,’ and water is the element that always forms the boundary between the Two Worlds. Having said that, it is necessary to wield tools of metal to penetrate through the Cleft between the Worlds. I disagree with my Young Trainee therefore on the meaning of the name Ruzasoha, the reverse of Pafuthenu. I would interpret that ‘choose the most suitable tools' is the gem in the heart of this word. After all, David was always such a good one at running off, whether he escaped or not! And our whole Universe is only like a bubble in the foam of some immense cosmic sea. I wonder whether an Alternative Reality was created when – well, when David disappeared from our one – after the Telok-vovim’s Astral Light was released, that is? And if so, I imagine him watching us all, going about our tawdry sublunary business, as he sails amongst wholly strange constellations.

 

Perhaps, sometime in the future, we can break through the veil again and find him, when we’ve learned to harness the Sorcerers’ incomparable powers to succeed – to some extent, and for a short spell – in the Idolaters’ incomprehensible games. I myself do not know, however, what is beyond our reality, but I feel a disturbance in the United Field, and have been loving guessing what's up. Not that it’s possible to see him, Thoahatha Ihahi, however. So, I hope he’s caught in his own Universe, if he survives at all. I appreciate his unwilling sacrifice, and so on, but having said that, I don’t want to imagine spending even another half hour playing Sinitic Scrabble with such a lad as Daud Pekar ever again. That would be complete torture. His ideas about social justice and enfranchising the proletariat were over the top indeed, and they were nothing like my plans to enable those who can already help themselves best. 

 

As you know, although the terrible Scarlet Seal has passed from me to materialize on the left chest of Elfan now, despite that, I have been specially blessed by the Old Strange Divinities so that I shall live without ageing over seven normal life-times. The shock-forces, the artificial people, are already ready and willing. (Well, they have no choice, in truth, of course.) And I intend that we, Humanity, shall hurl ourselves into the Void, somehow or other, although we do not have the least idea about what is lurking out there. But going there to conquer, and possess, and rule – like a swarm of rapacious locusts attacking a field of corn – that would be a most fitting test for our New Race of Superheroes, wouldn’t it?

 

Here am I then, bringing my oration to an end, for the time being at least, after I’ve been flying between the Worlds on the wings of the Ancients of Days’ enchantments. I hope that my majestic grandma, the Great Woman Aratheroth (who was known as the Lady Ari·anhrot elsewhere, too), would be proud of me. She was highly respected warrior-woman, a skilled alchemist, and a renowned butcher amongst the community in Hellsgate, and I love her so much still. After all, it is she who planted the seeds of wonder in my heart, fed me with all the old tales, lit the fire of creativity in my mind, nurtured me as my magic grew, helped me to fashion my ideas about life, morals, and survival, pushed me towards the Nw Yrth, and encouraged me to orate before the Masters of the Guild. And then it was she who encouraged me when I seized power from the old-guard, and got rid of the traitors in the Bottomless Pit. Oh, how hard it was exerting authority over them all at the beginning: it was like trying to herd a flock of stubborn and very troublesome shadows! But I won in the end, making them bend to my will, as they yielded, and submitted, and obeyed. Oooh, I can almost hear the Old Mistress grumbling from her lectern in the form of a tall, green tower, as the invigorating smell of wintergreen snakes about the sacred place. Before I sent her so unexpectedly to meet the Strange Divinities in the Crystal Palace of Kish that sad but inevitable day, of course. Heavy the head that wears the crown! 

 

For my part, I have suffered so much because of the Great Work, physically and mentally, and now I am considering escaping, straight after the next ceremony, for a long spell at least if not for good. I’m so tired, what with my dear Sister Blod·íhweth so ill and unable to help, and I’ll only have to set the ring on my finger to dematerialize and slink away like a thief in the night. I’ve come to the conclusion that self-sacrifice is the true nature of the Wizard’s craft, and I have no problem disappearing completely from the face of this Harsh Planet, now that things are progressing so well. My old comrade and sparring-partner, the Master Frederick Llwynlesg, has been assisting me immensely with his suggestions regarding appropriate potions and suitable spells. The stinky old mongrel is Keeper of the Ancient Secrets of Bifrōns, but I shan’t be swallowing down his elixir of youth in a hurry! (I think he cheated in the exam, anyway, and that he was having help from beyond when he recited the shaggy-dog story about Trey, Koywin, Ari·anhrot, and the rest. After all, the Most Illustrious  Ulí·uthlí always used to favour him. That's part of the reason why we were always quarrelling as children. But, as I discovered, not even a Medicine-woman from the Ice Forests can survive a blow from Dvaldí’s sky-iron hammer!)

 

Thoahatha Falathala Palohathala will be a suitable nom de guerre for me in my perambulations, I believe (or maybe Tohil Vanemuine Bamapana; or Djehuti Wotan Prometheus) – three names for an Yrthian, you see, and I do love playing with language so much! I shall wear a long, grey gown, and have in my hand a pilgrim’s staff, as I wander hither and thither as I please. Perhaps I shall hang from the Tree of Life to watch the end of the All-World, rejoice whilst sparking a new Universe into existence, or have my liver pecked out repeatedly by eagles for my presumptuousness. As I have said over and over, although I am a Wizard, I am not a soothsayer, nor a miracle-worker.

 

And I’m not a Dark Lord, either, who needs to hold untrammelled sway over the entire Eyrth, honest. Nor an Evil Emperor, I swear, intent on killing and destroying, who wants to drive a Death-Star to wipe out Planets, whatever the unenlightened naysayers may think and claim. I have only ever been working for the greater good of our Species (the bestial but divine Thorlin), in the best way I could discern, anyway, without being a Suffering Servant [4]. But then again, the leaders of the opposition forces have tended to die so very mysteriously – and easily (great thanks to Dá·hwyth's untamed familiar the Walker in Darkness there)! To close, for the time at least, I am very pleased to leave you with the words of my own beguilement, "The Mirror of Amginé" now that it's awoken the Sciu-crak and begun to achieve its intended aims (and the unintended ones to boot, of course!) [5]:

 

Fleet arrow silver slashes night,

Smashing locked doors on its flight;

Smearing fear and spreading pain

To north and south like thick black rain;

No seeking charm shall find my curse,

Nor heart nor mind my words reverse;

All blocks and bars shall shatter now,

As lack and change spread wide — I vow

The dark way back's forever sealed:

This spell shall glorious future yield!

 

One final word(I promise!). I always knew that Akosmos Theory would be very important (as well as the Life-Game and Fractal Patterns), and I was right in the end!

 

*             *             *             *             *             *             *             *

 

... So, here we are – here I am – the fateful ceremony completed at last, and the World changed for ever. And, Oh, it's like the All-World is ending now that the incomparable Lady Blod·íhweth has just died. (I still regret, sometimes, that I invited Tletlu a Tretru, those performers in the freak-show, the Malignant Molruku, from the pig-pastures of the Southern Continent, to stay here, but they were so full of world-shaking ideas, and ingenious devices, I had no choice, promise!) Perhaps all our lives are just stories, or plays, or something like that, in which we’re forced to act, and pretend, and play roles (by whom, I don’t know). Despite everything, after all this, you don’t know me at all, in truth, apart from the little bit I’ve revealed to you. Who would’ve thought that the life of my character, and my history, would be so similar to those lived by the Unfortunate Hero, the Old Soldier, the Strong Little Devil, and the Mathematician Manqué I’ve been talking about so much? Where do we finish, and where does everyone else begin? In a way, I feel that Dai, and Steff, and Jack, and John are parts of me now that their voices have been woven through me, with me treading the paths they’ve created. And although I’ve never fallen in love before now because I’ve been so busy, who knows about the future?

 

It's such a pity that so many of the artificial persons are choosing to self-destruct to send themselves to the "Insubstantial Paradise" these days. There was nothing about that in 'Secrets of the Darkest Art.' And not even the old drunken Nó'ohl and his wondrous birds could've foreseen the environmental disaster we've brought upon ourselves recently. (An unfortunate side-effect of those "Cwm-kov" machines that were supposed to purify the air using ozone and ultraviolet light was that they caused lots of unforeseen deaths – and damaged the atmosphere and the climate horrendously. But they made a pile of money for several people. One can hear the uncontrollable laughter resounding through the poisoned air even today!) We, Humanity, definitely need an ark now! Well there we are then, that's how it is. I have done all I can here, and it’s high time for me to get a move on. But whatever happens next, it’ll be story full of tears and laughter – and magic – and an extremely interesting one. I swear to you – if my word means anything – by the Eyrth’s new powers, the Lazy Sorcerers, and the Seraphic Idol-worshippers! And so here I am, on the edge of a precipice, spreading my wings once again, my charmed words at the ready – and I’m on the verge of diving into the limitless Void once and for all, my heart in my mouth!

 

*             *             *             *             *             *             *             *

 

[1] That is, David Balrog Procter. This chapter appears in “Choice Reminiscences from a Selective Memory.” — P.M.

 

[2] "Monadic Assemblage of Kinetic Aspects" which evolved from on-Mansha's PoOP. — P.M.

 

[3] I do not doubt the Good Doctor's abilities in the slightest, although I would note that old age is a hard mistress without a doubt. One must confess, however, that his opinion is not completely watertight at all here, nor in several other places either, in terms of details, as far as I know. Not that he's telling lies, just reporting his own personal version of the truth. Maybe his equipment was at fault; or how he interpreted the symbolic information. Or his time-sense could have gone zany for a while. There again, as someone's said elsewhere, in the world of magic, personalities, images and events always tend to change, mix and re-establish themselves in new forms ( "solve et coāgulā" is the appropriate principle here). But from what I have – clawed – out of intuition's lumpy brown murk, I'd say that many of characters have truly "got what they deserved," but as D.B.P mentioned (completely correctly this time), "not in the way that was intended or desired."  — P.M.

 

[4] I am reminded here of the old Krey-vondrur’s soliloquy at the beginning of “Massacre on Migl-Urth” (or “Tragedy in the Midworld,” I haven’t decided yet). — P.M. 

 

“I saw with my blind left eye all the external progress of the Héngaryon, ancient forbears of the Nwvogith. And then I found myself falling down a bottomless well amongst the roots of an enormous tree, shouting: To what end did they invent all their wondrous technology, whilst everywhere casting out the spirit? As I rushed through space and time, I had to accept my deficiencies and become familiar with what was in front of me and around me, letting it teach me. At last, I could declare aloud: ‘I am fecundified and become wise; I grow strong indeed and shall flourish; Rwnen lead me from thought to thought; Spells guide me from a vain life to the Great Work.’ Then, I realised could do the following things among very many others. Rid myself of restrictions, awaken the dead, extinguish fire, heal emotional and physical wounds, defend fighting comrades, win and keep a lover, reveal practitioners of the black arts and drive them away, and bind enemies and cause their weapons to fail. And I knew that my fate was to wage actual and metaphorical war to save the Migl-Urth from oblivion.”

 

[5] Those of us in the Guild of Secrets who are still left know this enchantment as “The Grey Wanderer's Break Through.” Of course, without all the attendant details of the Great Working, it is of no practical use. — Master Veythra Marm·íku [P.M.].

 

Dawn hanfodol actio, o ran unigolion a chymdeithasau, sy’n cadw’r Byd Dynol rhag ffrwydro. Wrth reswm pan ydym yn fabanod, nid ydym yn gallu’n hamddiffyn ein hunain rhag popeth y tu allan inni yn y Byd, ac mi rydym ni’n cymryd siâp pwy bynnag sydd yn dylanwadu arnom o ddydd i ddydd, fel ‘tasai. Ond pan adawn ni’n fabanod, mi fyddwn ni’n dechrau dysgu actio, er mwyn chwarae’n rhannau yn nrama fawr bywyd. Ac wedyn mi fyddwn ni’n rhoi colur ar ein hwynebau, a gwisgo dillad ffansi, wrth newid yn gyson. Mi fyddwn ni’n defnyddio’r naill fasg ar ôl y llall i guddio’n personoliaethau anaeddfed, wrth ymarfer drwy’r amser gelfyddyd eithriadol gymhleth, sef sut i oroesi yn y Byd ffals a thwyllodrus hwn, a thynnu ymlaen gyda’n gilydd heb ormod o boen. Ond yn fuan mi fyddwn ni’n dewis un o’r gwisgoedd fydd yn ymddangos fwyaf gweddus, i ymguddio y tu ôl iddi o hynny ymlaen. Ar yr un pryd, er bod yna ddisgwyl inni newid ein hymddangosiad corfforol yn ystod ein bywyd, nid ydym i fod i newid ein hanfod fel unigolyn. Ystyrir gan gymdeithas gan amlaf y dylem ni aros yr un peth drwy gydol ein hoes. A dyna bawb yn chwarae gêm greulon a llafurus, gan esgus bod yn wahanol gymeriadau mewn amgylchiadau gwahanol. Mae’n ddigon i’ch drysu’n lân.

 

Mi fydd pob un ohonom ni’n ei dwyllo’i hun mai’r casgliad hwn o gymeriadau gwneud yw pwy ydy hi neu ef mewn gwirionedd. Yn y fagl yr ydym ni felly, gan mai rhy lai o actio fydd yn arwain y Byd at ddinistr, tra bydd gormod ohono’n arwain unigolion i’r ysbyty meddwl. ‘Does dim syndod bod yna gymaint o helbul a helynt yn ein Byd. Ond nid cywir yw’r agwedd hwn na’r ymddygiad hwn! Proses ddysgu yw bywyd, ac mi all personoliaeth dyn, a’i ddeallusrwydd, a’i alluoedd, newid drwy gydol ei oes. Hollbwysig ydi sylweddoli mai trwy ddysgu, hynny yw trwy fyw, mi fydd rhwystredigaeth yn troi’n ddryswch, ac wedyn yn oleuad. Chwychwi sy’n medru’ch creu a’ch mowldio’ch hun i fod y person rydych chi eisiau’i fod. Myfi sydd wedi penderfynu cynorthwyo’r Ddaear alaethus i gael hyd i’w wir hunan unwaith ac am byth, gan ddechrau ymhlith y werin bobl. A dyna pam yr adewais fy mywyd braf a’m swydd hawdd yn y Madws Mileinig hwnnw (lle mae’n rhaid i’r rhan fwyaf o’r staff eu hunain gael triniaeth drylwyr, a bod yn berffaith onest), a dod i weithio ymhlith gwehilion cymdeithas yma ym Mhyrth-y-Fall, wrth fyw’n fochaidd yn Neuadd y Cymrodyr. Mi rwy wedi cael adferiad iechyd i raddau helaeth erbyn hyn ar ôl yr holl fistimanars yno ymhlith y crachach, diolch i’r drefn. Mae fy nghwmni, ‘Y Chwaraewyr Chwit-chwat’ (dim ond mi ar hyn o bryd), yn arbrofi gyda therapi cymunedol theatraidd, ac rwy’n bwriadu llwyddo yma er fy methiannau blaenorol. Rhaid imi wneud hynny o ran dyled imi fy hun, i’m mab hardd a gwyllt, a’i ddiweddar Dad anghrybwylladwy

 

— Helen Balrog Grossmann,

‘Sgrechiadau o’r Cyrion:

Pennod 1: Dechrau ar y dechrau.’

 

 

O’r diwedd, Gyfeillion, dyma’r datgeliad terfynol, gan eich adroddwr gostyngedig, Dá·hwyth Baldrog Prok·ethra, Prif Ddewin yr Uchelgaer Rosliw (dyna enw henaidd ichi, ond ceisio bod yn fanwl gywir rydw i) [1]. Cas gennyf oedd oedi rhag datgelu mwy hyd yn hyn, ond rwy wedi bod yn gweithio’n galed iawn i gyflwyno’r achos fel y datblygodd ef ar y pryd, o’m safbwynt o leiaf. Dim ond unigolyn ffaeledig fel pob un arall ydw i wedi’r cwbl, er gwaethaf fy ngalluoedd godidog, a’m huchelgeisiau arswydus, ond rwy’n gweddïo (mewn ffordd o siarad, achos mai hollol ofer yw’r fath weithred heb os nac oni bai) fy mod wedi llwyddo yn fy amcanion pellgyrhaeddol dros ben.

 

Felly i ddechrau, rhaid imi eich atgoffa chi bod y Byd i gyd yn derbyn Theori Maka ers achau [2], hynny yw, mai un bwystfil aruthrol gymhleth yw pob Planed, peth bron yn hollol annealladwy, a'r creaduriaid eraill arni (os ydynt yn bodoli) fel celloedd, neu'n chwarae rhan moleciwlau biolegol, neu ysgogiadau nerfol, a'r dinasoedd fel organau, a'r fforestydd fel ysgyfaint, a'r moroedd ac afonydd fel gwaed a gwythiennau, a'r gwyntoedd fel anadl. Nid ydym yn gallu'i weld er ei fod ym mhob man o'n cwmpas. Ni allwn ni gyffwrdd ag ef, er ein bod ni i gyd yn rhannau ohono. Mae'n gwneud i fi chwerthin yn uchel cofio Daud yn mynd i hwyl wrth adrodd sut y taniodd y "peiriant trawsffurfio organig" gyda'i gonsuriaeth letchwith, ond dyna chi. Yn ddi-os yr oedd yn dreiddgar ynghylch y manylion a sut y digwyddai pethau'n gyffredinol, serch hynny.

 

Rhan bwysig iawn o neges y Delw-addolwyr Dioglyd (sydd yn cynrychioli ein dymuniadau a photensial fel rhywogaeth, efallai, neu’n dychymyg cyffredinol ni), oedd mai yn eu tro, y Planedau'u hunain, a’r Cysodau Heulol, a’r Clystyrau, a’r Galaethau, yw rhannau o organeb hyd yn oed yn fwy, ac yn y blaen, nes bod y Bydysawd oll yn un oruwchorganeb. Mae'n byw ar drawsffurfiad egni, fel petai, ar lif gwybodaeth, ar newid cyson, ac wrth iddo fwydo, a thyfu, ac esblygu, mae'n gweithio fel rhyw injan gyfrifo, cosmig sy'n storio a phrosesu gwybodaeth, gan geisio ateb y cwestiwn anatebadwy: Beth yw pwrpas bodolaeth?

 

Yn ein milltir sgwâr, felly, mae'r Ddaear oll yn debyg i ryw Gimera a gafodd ei eni'n wreiddiol pan ddaeth y Blaned i fod o’r cwmwl o lwch sêr o amgylch yr Haul tua 4.5 biliynau o flynyddoedd yn ôl. (Fe fyddwn i bob tro yn cael fy siomi ar yr ochr orau gwrando ar fy Chwaer, Mrs Blodeuwedd Grossmann, yn adrodd a dadlau’n huawdl ynghylch hyn, ar sail ei breuddwydion cylchol am ddechreuad a diwedd y Byd.) Mae’r Cimera wedi bod yn gorwedd mewn trwmgwsg hyd yn hyn, ond wrth iddo rochian, a thorri gwynt, gan droi a throsi, mae wedi esgor ar bob peth byw. Gyda threigl amser mae wedi creu a lladd yn hollol ddibryder, mewn proses droellog sydd wedi arwain atom ni Ddynolryw, heddiw. Wrth gwrs mae ar yr Hil Ddynol angen dychmygu, adeiladu, a bwyta er mwyn goroesi, a ffynnu, a thyfu, ac felly rydym wedi dyfeisio credau, dinasoedd, a pheiriannau. Ond, ar yr un pryd, rhaid cyffesu mai byw dan dri gorfod rydym ni, sef gorfod dogma dall, gorfod confensiynau cymdeithasol anhyblyg, a gorfod mater, egni, a chyfreithiau corfforol. Ymhellach mae wastad yn rhaid inni frwydro yn erbyn rhywbeth, neu byddwn ni'n gwywo a marw, a hyd yma mae rhai yn ein plith o leiaf wedi bod yn ymlafnio ag ofergoel yn tarddu o ansicrwydd ac ofn, â rhagfarn, annhegwch, a gormes mewn cymdeithas, a hefyd yn erbyn elfennau didostur natur. Dyma ichi ddirgelwch mwyaf bodolaeth ddynol: gyda chymaint o allu y daw cymaint o loes, sydd yn anochel ond yn hollol hanfodol.

 

Er bod llawer iawn o bobl dros y Glob yn credu mai ar ben sigwrat bywyd rydym ni bellach, mewn gwirionedd, dim ond cocos o gnawd, a gwaed, ac asgwrn yn yr injan organig ydym. Heb yn wybod inni, mae'i dychmygion aruchel yn ymestyn atom ni ac yn gwau trwom fel tentaclau treiddiol i ymyrryd â ni'n isymwybodol ond yn bendant. "Yn Nhŷ Aileni Relyé, deffroa'r breuddwydiwr Hu·thulu," medd Arianithi Broffwydes yn 'A Zethlizvlé the Klantíaré hré' (hynny yw, 'Dē Serpentis Arcānīs' neu 'Ynghylch Cyfrinachau'r Sarff'). Yn y gorffennol, mae Dynolryw wedi bod yn rhy brysur ceisio byw ar oleuni dydd a gwynt i achosi gormod o ddifrod i'r Blaned. Ond wrth inni wneud hyn rydym wedi bod yn llenwi claddgelloedd meddyliol y ddyfais blanedol rydym i gyd yn rhannau ohoni, â phob un o'n teimladau a'n meddyliau, â’n breuddwydion am y gorffennol a'n hunllefau am y dyfodol. Mae'r Byd felly yn gweithredu fel batri aruthrol sydd yn cronni egni seicig.

 

Rydym yn creu’r fath egni drwy’r amser, fel unigolion a chyda'n gilydd, ond unwaith ei fod wedi ymuno a'r ffynhonnell, nid yw'n bosibl ei reoli gydag unrhyw radd o sicrwydd, na hyder, na chysondeb. Dyma'r Grym Diatal sydd bob tro'n llanw a thrai, wrth fynd ar gynnydd ac ar gil, yn ôl y rheolau'n llywio datblygiad caos, gan greu patrymau "ffractal" rhyfeddol. O’r cychwyn cyntaf, mae rhai nerthol wedi bodoli, yn dlawd neu’n gyfoethog, yn werinol neu’n foneddigaidd, yn ddoeth neu’n wirion fel ei gilydd, a all deimlo a defnyddio’r Grym Diatal i greu a thrawsffurfio, ai trwy enedigaeth, neu hyfforddi damweiniol, neu lwc hollol. Y rhai dawnus hyn sydd â'r gallu i reidio'r dymestl heb ddihuno'r Cimera, fel yr ymddengys eu bod yn gorchymyn y nerth annisgrifiadwy. Ond er gwaethaf hynny, dim ond helpu'r egni byw sydd yn tyfu a lleihau'n gyson i gyflawni'i ddibenion ei hun y mae'r rhain, yn hytrach na'i ddefnyddio a’i afradu. Nyni, y Dewiniaid, sydd wedi dysgu dros y canrifoedd er Taith Sorakados, sut i wneud hyn orau, ac wedi bod wrthi’n cael hyd i’r fath bobl, a’u hyfforddi hwy, gan ddysgu iddynt gyfrinachau’r grefft. Wrth gwrs ar yr un pryd roedd rhai eraill ymhlith y mwyafrif oedd heb y gallu gorwych hwn, ond oedd eisiau rheoli a gormesi serch hynny. Hwythau a datblygai dechnegau swyn symbolaidd i gyrraedd eu nod. Ac felly yr âi’r rhyfel athreuliol yn ei flaen yn ddi-ball flwyddyn ar ôl blwyddyn.

 

Wel, mae'n amlwg bod y boblogaeth ddynol wedi bod yn tyfu'n esbonyddol, hyd yn oed wrth inni ddifa niferoedd ofnadwy o rywogaethau eraill fesul flwyddyn. Ac ar yr un pryd mae cynnwys y gronfa seicig wedi parhau i ddod fwyfwy cymhleth ac ansad, a'r gwasgedd yn cynyddu hefyd rhwng holl ofnau a chwantau'r biliynau'n byw, a dioddef, a marw. Yn gymharol ddiweddar, roeddem ni Ddynolryw wedi cyrraedd y pwynt lle roeddem yn ystyried nad oedd yfflon o ddim na neb uwchlaw inni. O'r herwydd, roedd ein llywodraethwyr, ein llefaryddion, ein cynrychiolwyr – y gwleidyddion, yr offeiriad, y gwyddonwyr yn ddiwahân – yn mynd ati megis llwyth o fegalomaniaid gorffwyll gan rym i anrheithio'r cyfan, o Jyngloedd Anweledig y Gorllewin i'r Wlad Werdd Newydd, ac i’n caethiwo ninnau'n hunain yn yr un modd.

 

Nid oeddem yn brwydro yn erbyn grymoedd mwyaf rhagor, ond yn erbyn ein gilydd, gan wastraffu’n holl allu i newid a datblygu. Yr oeddem ninnau ar fedr colli’r holl ymdrech gynhyrchiol, a'r dioddefaint angenrheidiol priodol, wrth syrthio tuag at i mewn, gan wystno a gwanhau fel petai, yn hytrach na hedfan tuag at y sêr. A dyna oedd yr hyn roedd y Saith Swynwr Seraffaidd yn ei ddymuno’n anad dim. Ar y llaw arall, bellach mae cymaint ohonom ni, ac rydym wedi datblygu'r gallu i sgwrio popeth yn llwyr oddi ar wyneb y Ddaear yn hwyr neu'n hwyrach, yn ein cynnwys ein hunain, drwy gyfrwng newid hinsawdd a chynhesu byd-eang, neu fomiau atomig, neu wenwyno’r moroedd.

 

Yn y Byd sydd ohoni, mae’r Pwyllgor Rhyngwladol ar Ffydd a Moesau’n deddfu’n gyfyngol dros bob agwedd ar ymddygiad cyhoeddus a phreifat, gan lywodraethu â dwrn haearn. Mae’r Undeb Masnachol Milwrol yn rheoli cyflenwad a galw ym mhob marchnad ledled y Byd. Ac mae Comisiwn Asiantaethau Darlledu Annibynnol yn darparu bara a chwaraeon i boblogaeth sydd wedi hurtio i’r fath raddau bod eu hymenyddiau’n troi’n slwtsh. Dyma’r ‘Drindod Anfad’ wedi’i darogan gan y Tafod Arian. A phetaem ni’n rhoi’r gorau i frwydro a datblygu, neu’n difetha mwyafrif o’r bodau byw oddi ar y Ddaear, dyna fyddai ergyd enfawr i’r Cimera, er y byddai ffurfiau eraill ar fywyd yn esblygu maes o law, dros filenia aneirif, siŵr o fod.

 

Felly, a'r lleiafrif mwyaf nerthol, ac abl, a barus yn ein plith yn gwneud difrod ar y gweddill ohonom ni, a’r Blaned, wrth i’n meddyliau ni’n rhedeg yn wyllt, roedd yr amser wedi cyrraedd pan fyddai synhwyrau rhagorol y Cimera cwsg yn ennyn ei system imiwnedd. A'r pryd hwnnw, byddai’n ymosod arnom ni Ddynolryw fel petaem yn firws, er mwyn ein cosbi ni’n enbyd wrth gadw’r creaduriaid eraill yn fyw, a’u dyrchafu hwy wedyn nes y byddant yn cymryd drosodd. Un peth yw brwydro a dioddef o wyniau tyfiant er mwyn dal i newid ac felly goroesi ac aeddfedu, ond peth arall yw mynd i ddifancoll llwyr, wrth reswm. Y syniad brawychus hwnnw – mai rhywogaethau newydd, grymus allai ddod yn hollbwysig ar y Ddaear – a ysgogodd fy ymdrechion oll.

 

Myfi ymhlith yr holl Ddewiniaid eraill a wnaeth ddirnad – a derbyn – nad ffynhonnell eithaf y Grym Diatal mohonom ni o bell ffordd, er bod rhan bwysig iawn ohono yn tarddu o’n cymdeithas a’n diwylliant bellach, a nyni sydd yn gallu’i ddeall, a’i sianeli, a’i lywio orau. Roeddwn i eisiau ymladd yn ôl, yn erbyn y ddau ddrwg yn cystadlu, sef atafiaeth a hunanddinistr, gan harneisio’r pŵer rhyfeddol yr ydym ninnau'n ei ryddhau mor esgeulus, sydd yn cylchredeg yn ysbryd y Blaned fel petai, gan beri breuddwydion a hunllefau, ac ennyn chwantau, a ffantasïau, a gobeithion. A siarad yn blwmp ac yn blaen, roeddwn i’n dymuno atal Dynolryw rhag cael eu hysgubo ymaith am byth, neu rhag cael eu darostwng a’u hanghofio o leiaf.

 

Ar y dechrau, dim ond fi a gredai yn y fath freuddwyd, ond ymhen fawr o dro sylweddolais na allai'r Hil Ddynol gyflawni tasg goroesi a ffynnu ar ei ffurf bresennol, ac fe fyddai angen ymyrryd yn sylweddol yn ein datblygiad ein hunain, er mwyn cynorthwyo grymoedd naturiol, ddylem ni ddweud, a rhoi help llaw i esblygu. Rwy wedi bod yn cynllunio drwy gydol f’oedolaeth felly i wahodd y Saith Swynwr Seraffaidd (sydd yn cynrychioli’n huwch-ego, efallai) i ymrithio ar y Ddaear, i danio'r Ail Chwildro Gwyddonol, ac ar ôl hynny er mwyn inni allu eu trechu hwy, a thraflyncu’u pŵer. (Ac yn hyn o beth roedd gan sawl person arall syniadau tebyg, roeddent wedi’u dwyn oddi arnaf fi, ond roedd eu cymelliadau’n hollol anghywir, ac roeddent yn dymuno ceisio’u mantais eu hun ar draul pawb arall.) Trwy frwydro yn eu herbyn yn uniongyrchol yn hytrach na’u gweision, fe gredwn i y byddem ni’n dioddef yn enbyd, ond yn cryfhau’n enfawr o’r herwydd.

 

Ac ymhellach, dybiwn i, fe fyddai’r rhai oedd yn rhy wan yn – cael eu dileu o’r gêm – fel petai, heb fod yn rhaid i ninnau’n hunain gael gwared arnynt. Nithio'r grawn oddi wrth yr us, gredaf fi, yw enw ar y fath broses. Yn unol ag athrawiaeth y Gwledydd Dall Thoahatha, yn dyddio yn ôl i gyfnod Taith Sorakados, fe fyddai’r Elohi bwystfilaidd wedyn yn medru amsugno nerth y Telok-vovim, i ddymchwel y Morulku bregus ond gormesol. Iaith farddonol, efallai, ond mae’r syniad yn gywir, serch hynny. Ac ar yr un pryd fe fyddwn i'n rhoi'n ôl i'r rhai sydd yn ei haeddu, eu nerth cysefin, gan eu galluogi i fowldio'u bywydau eu hunain, boed y canlyniadau'n bositif neu'n negatif. Yna byddai Delko’n troi yn Thehelo, gan uno grym y Swynwyr a dealltwriaeth y Delw-addolwyr, technoleg a chrefft, pŵer aruthrol seregni a cheinder organig crochenwaith. Efallai, obeithiwn i, gyda fy help creulon, fe fyddent yn lledu'u hadenydd newydd sbon a mynd i ymweld â'r Cosmos maes o law – trwy dda neu drwy hagr – a chyn i’r Haul Disglair ffrwydro mewn pelen dân o leiaf!

 

Ar ôl imi gael fy nghefn ataf fi’n dilyn fy nhaith eithriadol beryglus i’r Nw Yrth yn laslanc, fe sylweddolais yn araf iawn na allwn innau byth fynd yn ôl yno, oherwydd, petaswn i'n llwyddo i gyrraedd y lle o gwbl, dim ond plentyn syfrdan ac ynfyd fyddwn i, a drengai ar unwaith. Fe welais na allwn i gyflawni hyn oll ar fy liwt fy hunan, a thros y blynyddoedd felly rwy wedi casglu dilynwyr – hynny yw, cefnogwyr, cyd-weithwyr, cyfeillion, a chyd-droseddwyr – ataf fi. O'r diwedd, fe lwyddais i – fe lwyddasom ni. Roedd y Byd wedi cyrraedd yr adeg dyngedfennol. Roedd ein gelynion yn y Drindod Anfad wedi darganfod ein hymgyrch, ond yn rhy hwyr. Nid oeddent yn rheoli pob un peth dan yr Haul eto, a ninnau oedd wedi dechrau cymryd yr awenau oddi wrthynt i raddau helaethach bob mis, dan gochl ein gweithgareddau seicolegol yma yn y Ganolfan (hynny yw, y Clinig). Roedd arnom ni angen canolbwyntio ar y plant, oedd yn fwy chwannog i gredu yn ein hawgrymiadau a derbyn ein hyfforddiant, ac yn fwy nerthol o lawer, ac felly yn fwy defnyddiol, na’r oedolion ar ben hynny.

 

Lle ardderchog i'w recriwtio hwy oedd y gylchfa ryfel yng Nghalon y Cyfandir – ystyrier y ffactorau genetig, yr ofn cynhyrchiol hollbresennol, a’r hud gwerin cynhenid – ac edrychwch ar bwy y cafodd yr Hen Ryfelwr Llwyd hyd iddynt yno: trindod o bobl ifanc a fyddai'n bwysig ofnadwy pan ail-greasom ni hwy yma. Daud, Jelena, a Stjepan. Y Llabwst, y Dywysoges, a'r Dyn-darw. David, Helen, a Steffan. Lushfé, Tefnuth, a Swtach. Dá·hwyth, Elena, a Stharafan. A phan oeddem ni wedi dechrau ennill tir, roedd yn rhaid inni gynnal trefn, a gostegu gwrthwynebiaeth heb betruso er mwyn cychwyn pethau o newydd. O’r diwedd, rhaid bod rhyw endid wedi cyflawni’r aberth ar y maes yng nghanol Cae Galar yn briodol, yn unol â dymuniadau’r Hen Feistri. Rwy’n gallu clywed y nefoedd yn atseinio – “Yk’k, yk’k wd’ny! Yk’k b’blwn yk’k! Ws’rs, yk’k, yk’k!” – o hyd, fel petai’r clecian ffiaidd byth yn mynd i bylu!

 

Ac yma’n wir y mae’r Swynwyr Seraffaidd bellach yn brasgamu dros wyneb ein Byd Gwyrddlas ni heb rwystr. Ond roeddent heb sylweddoli mai cael eu gorfodi i uno â’r Delw-addolwyr Dioglyd a wnaent er mwyn croesi’r Gwagle rhwng y Bydoedd. Ac unwaith roedd y Porth Galarus wedi agor, nid oedd dim troi’n ôl. Felly y mae hi. Dyma hwy’n rhedeg yn wyllt, gan ledu creugarwch distrywiol (neu ddistryw creadigol), wrth hau hadau trawsffurfiant, wrth i Ddynolryw gael eu newid, gan strancio’n ffyrnig. Ond tra mae’r Saith yn chwarae, ac ymyrryd, ac arbrofi ym mhob cwr o’r Ddaear, un ohonynt, oedd yn arfer bod yn aelod o’u Hurdd hwy, ac sydd wedi chwarae rhan eithriadol o bwysig yn yr hanes hwn, sef Swtach, a adawyd ar ôl i reoli’r Nw Yrth yn ofer o’i Gwch Dur Glas Dirboenus, mae’n ymddangos. Problem sylfaenol Swtach oedd nad oedd ef eisiau aros yn unig yr un peth fel y gwnâi ei gymrodyr, a thrwy gofleidio newid, holltodd ef ei bersonoliaeth, a’i alltudio ei hun o rym rhanedig y grŵp. Felly roedd yn rhaid iddo geisio cipio tameidiau o’u pŵer pryd bynnag y gallai o hynny ymlaen. Wel, mae wedi cael yr hyn a ddymunai o’r diwedd, beth bynnag. Bywyd tragwyddol heb y rhai eraill, a rheolaeth lwyr, ond ar delerau na fyddai erioed wedi’u dychmygu na’u dewis, ar sail yr hyn rwy’n gallu’i ganfod yn fy nrych sgrio rhyng-ddimensiynol o leiaf [3].

 

Nawr, dichon mai cysylltiad cryf sydd wedi bod rhwng Swtach a sawl cymeriad arall yn y stori gymhleth hon, drwy’r amser, sef yr Hen Ryfelwr Llwyd, y Tad, y ffug-Ddewin, yr Wncwl, yr Hen Filwr, a’r Ysgolfeistr. Fe hoffwn i ddweud mai rhannu’r un hanfod ydynt, erbyn hyn, os nad oeddynt yn gwneud hyn o’r cychwyn. Yn achos y dynion hyn, beth bynnag, maent wedi cael eu haeddiant, yn yr un ffordd â’u Meistr, ac maent bellach i’w gweld yn debyg i rai o’n cimerâu newydd ni, ond rhai sy’n newid yn ddi-baid o’r naill ffurf i’r llall wrth ddioddef cosbau anghyffredin o bob math. Ond ar ôl un flwyddyn ar bymtheg fe ddônt yn ddynion eto am undydd a blwyddyn er mwyn ymoddef, a chweryla, a phrotestio wrth ei gilydd, a ffraeo’n ofer, cyn ailgychwyn eu poenedigaeth. Wel, hidiwch befo hynny. Yma, mae fel petai'r Ddaear wedi'i throchi mewn crochan o ambrosia purddu, tra blasus, na all ei drigolion eu hatal eu hunain rhag ei lyncu i lawr, sydd yn darparu galluoedd fyddai wedi bod y tu hwnt i ddychymyg rai blynyddoedd o'r blaen.

 

Wel, mae'r amser yn hedfan heibio yn hynod gyflym, ond ydy, a myfi – nyni – sydd wedi newid trefn sefydlog y Byd drwy gyflwyno dulliau bod hollol newydd, a syniadau brawychus o chwyldroadol. Roedd y pum hen rym natur defodol, sef awyr, dŵr, metel, pridd, a thân wedi hen basio'r dyddiad olaf defnyddio. Roedd yn rhaid inni ddyfeisio rhai newydd, a saith ymddangosai fel nifer hudol. Fy syniad i oedd y dylai'r elfennau newydd gyfuno set o wrthgyferbyniadau, gan gynnwys cyfanswm y Bydysawd, sef: 'tân a dŵr' – 'golau a gwyll' – 'gloes a rhyddhad' – 'colli ac ennill' – 'bywyd a thranc' – 'gwacter a llawnder' – 'creu a dileu.' Ac unwaith eto, fe ddes i ben â gwneud hynny, diolch i’r Saith Hen Feistr, ar ôl treulio amser anghymedrol yn prancio o gwmpas coelcerth ar ben tŵr troellog nes imi gwympo i lawr o orflinder. A sôn am y grymoedd creadigol a thrawsffurfiadol, dilyffethair rydym ni wedi bod yn gallu eu rheoli trwy gyfrwng Swyn Hynaf Enwi a Rhwymo!

 

Rydym wedi dysgu cymaint gan y Swynwyr am eu gwaith ar y Blaned Yrth. Yma yn labordai cêl y Ganolfan rydym wedi bod wrthi'n torri tir newydd ym maes newydd sbon Cêl-swoleg gan gymysgu technoleg nanobot â pheirianneg genetig i greu rhywogaethau hybrid arswydus. Rydym wedi llwyddo i gyflawni gwyrthiau, bron, yn dibynnu ar ystyr y gair ‘gwyrth’ yn eich idiolect (ni raid dweud fy mod yn sôn yn ffigurol yma). A heb os rydym ni wedi dechrau gwneud cynnydd yn ein tasg o drawsffurfio’r Cosmos (wel, rydym yn dechrau yma ar y Ddaear!). Ar ben hynny, gyda’n help ni, mae Sefydliadau Addysgol Annibynnol Unedig Aberdydd a’r Cylch wedi dod yn chwaraewr allweddol ar y llwyfan fyd-eang. Dim syndod yma, gan fod yr Athrawes Jelena Pekar sydd yn cadeirio Pwyllgor SAAU.

 

Ymhlith y rhestr hir o lwyddiannau syfrdanol, ceir y canlynol. Rydym wedi creu bodau artiffisial, digynnig, ar ffurf pobl sydd yn cerdded, a siarad, a meddwl, a gweithio, i fod yn gwmnïwyr inni, a’n cynorthwyo ni. Ni fyddant byth farw drwy achosion naturiol, ac fe allant wneud pethau bron yn anghredadwy. Ac yr ydym wedi adeiladu Porth i ddirweddau amgen ar lun Drych Krondí, gan ddefnyddio dur gwrthstaen, dagrau merthyron, a hunllefau’r rhai pur eu calon. Nid wy’n gallu peidio â dychmygu’r rhain, ein hymgnawdoliadau ni wedi’u llunio o blastig, a dur gwrthstaen, a silicon, yn anturio cyn belled yn y gofod â Seren y Ci yn yr Hyd Deheuol a Phorth y Trwbadŵr, ac ymweld â galaethau ger Ysgwydd Nimrod, gan gario’n hymwybyddiaeth ddihafal ynddynt. Mae’n dal yn ddyddiau cynnar ar y dechnoleg hon, fodd bynnag, ac ni wyddwn i ble y’u hanfonir. Hefyd, mae yna ddamweiniau mynych sydd yn achosi i’r bobl synthetig ddatgorffori, gan ledaenu’r gronynnau ynddynt, ond yn bwysicach, yr wybodaeth, i bwy a ŵyr ble. Ond yn hytrach nag ystyried hyn yn drychineb, sylweddolasom ni’n gyflym mai ffordd well o lawer o fwrw had dynolryw yng nghorneli pellaf yr Holl Fyd fyddai hon, ac yn awr yr ydym yn darlledu cynlluniau symbolaidd, manwl trwy’r Porth yn gyson i ddenu – a maglu – bodau ymwybodol eraill.

 

Mor hawdd ydy cysylltu’ch corff â’r lliaws o ddyfeisiadau newydd, wrth newid eich ymwybyddiaeth â’r Aur Du, ac yn gyffredinol, mae pawb wedi bod yn rhyfeddol o awyddus i chwarae’r fath gemau. Rydym wedi sicrhau hyn oll fel bydd pawb yn derbyn Trefn Newydd y Byd heb ail feddwl. (Wrth gwrs, nid Trefn Fydol Berffaith mo hyn, dyna fyddai’n arwain, wyddom ni, at farweidd-dra, ac wedyn, yn y pendraw, at dranc.) Ac wrth i hyn oll ddigwydd o dan reolaeth lem ein ffrindiau gorau ar y Cyngor Technocratig Rhyngwladol bondigrybwyll, nyni yn y Ganolfan sydd yn dod yn gyfoethocach byth, heb sôn am fwyfwy nerthol. A hynny yn ogystal â’r holl elw sydd yn dod i mewn o’r Aur Du, a’r Ffau Arallfydol. O, mae’n rhaid imi grybwyll hefyd Stevie, Satharāfanu, sydd bellach yn medru byw ar incwm preifat, wedi cael hyd i ryw henbeth gwerthfawr tu hwnt ar ffurf pyramid neu sigwrat, oedd yn arfer perthyn i’w Ewythr, yr Hen Filwr. Ac er na lwyddodd y Tywysydd Medrus i ddod yn rhifolegwr wrth astudio yn yr hen Ffatri Addysgol, mae cryn ddawn ganddo o ran dyfeisio peiriannau ac offerynnau. A chyda’r holl arian, mae wedi bod yn gallu buddsoddi yn creu injans i allanoli’r dychymyg ac i wneud dymuniadau’n real. O, gyda llaw, trwy gyfrwng ein hinjan rhannu meddyliau, fiomecanyddol, mae’n bosibl erbyn hyn ddarllen cyfrinachau calon dyn, a lluosogi’i lawenydd, a dwyn ei heddwch, a gweld dyfnder ei anobaith hefyd. (Fel mae’n digwydd, mae’r coblyn ystrywgar a pharablus hwnnw o’r enw Lonelihahi a wnaeth ymddangos yn ddisymwth, wedi bod yn ddefnyddiol iawn yn hyn o beth.)

 

Wrth reswm, ni allai dyfeiswyr yr holl wyrthiau hyn ragweld pob canlyniad, na'r gadwyn o ddigwyddiadau fyddai'n canlyn yn eu sgil. Yn y fforestydd toreithiog oedd yn anialdir gynt, mae yna greaduriaid bychain newydd yn ymddangos ac ynddynt waed fedr hydoddi dur a choncrit. Mae'r dechnoleg trawsblannu arloesol wedi sefydlu marchnad ddu dra phroffidiol mewn cyrff, organau ac ymenyddiau, a tra mae'r byddinoedd wedi newid, mae'r rhyfela'n parhau. Ar ben hynny, wrth gwrs, er bod yr CTR yn gweithio mor galed i guddio'r ffaith, na fydd y rhai'n cael y llawdriniaeth newydd byth yr un peth rhagor, er ei bod yn gallu estyn bywyd yn sylweddol.

 

Nid wy’n hoff iawn o'r gair twp hwnnw, 'sombi' (nid gohebydd yn gaeth i wasg y gwter mohonof fi), ond mae'r creaduriaid sydd yn ymddangos ar ben y broses yn eithaf gwahanol i'r hyn oeddent o'r blaen. Gwell hynny na bod yn farw, neu'n sâl iawn, neu mewn poen ddirfawr, dybiwn i. Mae'n ddiddorol iawn (ac eithaf rhyfedd) bod y rhan fwyaf eisiau mynd i nofio yn y môr bob dydd, neu ballu tyllau dwfn a chysgu ynddynt, neu ddringo coed a siglo o gangen i gangen sawl gwaith y dydd. Ac mae'n ffodus iawn mai dim ond ychydig ohonynt fynnu ceisio hedfan trwy neidio oddi ar adeiladau uchel. Ond wrth gwrs maent hefyd yn gallu blasu synau, teimlo lliwiau, gweld yn y tywyllwch, clywed meddyliau, achosi i blanhigion dyfu’n wyllt, a chyfathrebu’n hynod glir ag anifeiliaid o bob math. Rhwng yr holl fwydydd arloesol rydym wedi'u cynhyrchu sydd yn gwerthu fel 'tasai'r Byd ar ddarfod, a'r ychwanegiadau llesol sydd yn cael eu rhoi yn y cyflenwad dŵr, mae llawer o ddatblygiadau'n digwydd. Dyma wŷr yn mynd yn gyhyrog, cryf, a blewog iawn, fel bleidd-ddynion. Dyna blant yn tyfu cennau a thagellau, fel môr-ddynion. A beth am y menywod sydd yn egino pigau ac adenydd pluog hardd? Cyn gynted ag y byddant wedi derbyn y sefyllfa anghyfnewidiol, ac wedyn cynefino â'u ffordd newydd o fyw, fe ddechreuant fwynhau bywyd lled-ddynol, debyg gen i. Mor gyffrous ydy popeth, ac mae'n golygu y bu’n rhaid i gymdeithas addasu i gryn raddau.

 

Tra mae pobl, sefydliadau, a moesau wedi bod yn newid cymaint ac mor gyflym – mewn corff, ac enaid, a meddwl, allai dyn ddweud – nid yw'r Eglwys Fyd-Eang ddim wedi bod yn gallu cynnal ei hawdurdod drostynt, ac wedi'i thynnu’i hun yn gareiau. Bellach mae Cenhadon Heddwch yn brwydro yn erbyn yr Eglwys Filwrol, wrth i'r Tabernaclau Annibynnol ymdrechu i droi'r Brodyr a Chwiorydd Ffyddlon at eu dehongliad o'r Hen Lyfrau. Yma, rydym wedi bod yn cyd-weithio'n agos â Chapel Ymholiad Anenwadol, sydd yn rhannu llawer o'n hamcanion. Nyni, felly, fydd yn llenwi'r bwlch, gan helpu'r werin bobl i reoli'u patrymau meddwl cymhleth, newydd; i ddefnyddio'u ffurfiau corfforol newydd, rhyfedd; ac i ddatblygu'u heneidiau annynol newydd, y tu hwnt i'r holl hen gyfyngiadau dynol.

 

Ac i goroni'r cwbl, rydym wedi darganfod – neu greu – carfan o arweinyddion ardderchog i'r to sydd yn codi, rhai sydd eisoes biau pwerau gwych a galluoedd hynod i'w gloywi, eu hogi – a'u disgyblu. Nid yw'r pwerau hyn na da na drwg. Rydym yn dysgu i’r hyfforddeion ifanc y wyddor o beri newid yn unol â'r ewyllys, yn y modd mwyaf effeithiol posibl. Hynny yw, gallu meddwl i fod yn drech na mater – a’r un mor bwysig, gallu’r naill feddwl i drechu’r llall. Rwy’n fy ngweld fy hunan fel bugail da i braidd ystyfnig, arweinydd ysbrydol adar brithion yr Hil Ddynol, os hoffwch chi. Erbyn hyn, Satharāfanu, Tywysydd Medrus Undeb yr Archarwyr sydd yn gofalu am y rhan fwyaf o’r materion ymarferol yma o ddydd i ddydd. Ac O, am ddychymyg cyfoethog a ffrwythlon sydd ganddo! Mae’n creu Bydoedd Eraill cyflawn gyda’r taclau rhithrealiti diweddaraf i’r Bobl Sed fodern chwarae ynddynt. Trist dweud, roedd David a Helen yn perthyn i’r hen drefn i’r fath raddau na fuasent wedi goroesi ymhlith Ieuenctid Amgen heddiw, y plant chwithig o hardd hynny. Roedd eu hamser wedi pasio. Hmm, erbyn meddwl: O mor freulyd ddiflannol yw gogoniant y Byd!

 

Nid oedd y rhan fwyaf o’r gwerinos yn credu eu bod yn bodoli o’r blaen, y Saith Swynwr Seraffaidd, ond fe wyddant yn bendant eu bod yma nawr. A dyna am fod rhaid inni i gyd ddod ynghyd i geisio cadw’r gelyn cyffredin hwn draw. Trwy’r flwyddyn ddiweddaraf rydym wedi bod yn gweithio fel lladd nadredd i alw a rhwymo hanfod yr Hen Feistri, fesul un, er mwyn gwell rheoli’r saith grym natur newydd. Ŵyl y Torthau y daliasom gysgod Nuthkí mewn potel pop; crebachodd tentaclau Isheth Alban Elfed; fflam Lushfé a ddiffoddodd Galan Gaeaf; mewn pwff o resymeg diflannodd Wezir Alban Arthan; trodd Hebé Lwyd yn geffyl pren Nos Galan; Alban Eilir y daeth Tefnush o hyd i gariad cywir; ac aeth dagrau Nebesh yn sych Ŵyl Maethu. Wedi dweud hynny, tra gallwn ni’u dal hwy am sbel, maent yn dal i gael eu tentaclau, a’u carnau, a’u malwyr yn rhydd, drwy’r amser, y naill ar ôl y llall. Ond mor beryglus, ac mor gryfhaol, ac mor bwysig yw brwydro’n gynddeiriog yn eu herbyn.

 

Yn fuan, bydd dyddiad y lleuad fefus yn cyrraedd. Alban Hefin. Rwy’n tybio a fydd y Dewin Ieuengaf newydd – y Blaenaf ymhlith Cydraddolion, o’r enw Elfan Baldrog Bacster, yn un ar bymtheg oed – yn barod i gael ei urddo? Mor anhygoel o rymus ydy, ond yn debyg i’w Dad, mae hefyd yn tueddu i fod yn anhrefnus ac annisgybledig. Ond nawr bod pethau wedi dod cyn belled â hyn, nawr bod yr olwyn wedi dechrau troi’n fwyfwy cyflym, nid oes dim dychwelyd yn ôl i’r hen drefn, beth bynnag y bydd y cenau bach yn ei wneud. Rwy wedi clywed gan hen frân wen ei fod wedi llwyddo i ddatrys y Swyn Seithblyg yn ei ffordd ei hun, gan ffurfio ystyr newydd o’r symbolau astrus, o’r geiriau cyfnewidiol. Ac wrth gwrs, dyna oedd elfen hanfodol yn y cynllun, gan fod ei Dad wedi llunio’r darn yn y lle cyntaf, yn fwy na thebyg, neu o leiaf wedi’i ddarganfod a’i gynnwys yng nghalon ei ymarferion hudol. Mae’n hollol wir mai meistr ar ieithoedd oedd Daud. Ond mae’r manylion fyrdd yn aros i’w datgelu, ond ac fe fydd y frwydr i oroesi’n gorfodi’r Mab i ddod yn arglwydd dros ei bwerau trawsffurfiol, wrth gael hyd i’w wir lais ei hun am y tro cyntaf. Ac mae’n gymwys mai fe ddylai fod yr un i godi i’r anterth, gan ryddhau’i Dad a chyflawni’r seremoni.

 

Ar ryw ystyr fodd bynnag, rhaid bod f’ystryw eisoes wedi llwyddo, i ryw raddau o leiaf, gan ein bod ni i gyd yma o hyd, ac yn ffynnu – fel y meddwn i uchod, mwy neu lai, “O’r diwedd, rhaid bod rhywun wedi cyflawni’r aberth yn briodol, yn unol â dymuniadau’r Hen Feistri.” Fe gredaf fi fod Elfan yn mynd i ganu (neu ubain!) gyda’i fand seiko-pynk, Y Saith Mwnci Ewn – dyna fydd yn golygu oriau di-ben-draw o ddadwrdd yn ddigon â hollti pen dyn, felly! Wel, o leiaf ni fydd y giamocs oll ddim byd yn debyg i'r hen ddyddiau drwg pan fyddai'r ymgeisydd gorfod prancio o gwmpas mewn tiwnig wen a gwregys gwyrdd. Ond eto i gyd, mae’n wir fy mod i’n edrych ymlaen at wisgo'r gŵn hir, ysgarlad ac arno sêr o aur, a’r pilews du, ac at chwifio fy hudlath o binwydd chwe throedfedd ac arni rwnau cochion.

 

Fe fydd Dai, all dyn obeithio, yn dathlu seremoni dderbyn y tro hwn, hefyd. Neu, hwyrach y dylem ni ddweud y bydd David eisoes wedi profi defod ynydu. Y fath ansicrwydd a dryswch yw arwydd o’r broblem enfawr gyda’n cysyniadau arferol ni ynghylch amser, ni raid dweud. Felly maddeuwch imi am gamddefnyddio amseroedd gramadegol yma! Ond pryd bynnag y gwnaeth hi ddigwydd, neu, y bydd hi’n digwydd, bedydd tân ydy’n wir, am farddonol! Yr elfen wrthwynebol i dân yw dŵr, wrth reswm, a'r darpar Ddewin Ieuengaf wedi awgrymu imi mai Pafuthenu, gwas i'r Delw-addolwyr Dioglyd a gipiodd y llanc, gan ei achub rhag crafangau Zuvnirathé, y galwyd arni gan y ffug-Ddewin. Fe fyddwch yn cofio mai dyna Afr Ddu'r Goedwig sydd â Miloedd o Epil, arwydd yr Haul, a chyllell finiog ymwybyddiaeth. A bob tro mae hi’n bwydo ar olau wrth ei ddinistrio'n llwyr. Dyna ddiddorol, am mai personoliad y Lleuad a moroedd yr isymwybod yw Pafuthenu, sydd â phen gafr ar gorff menyw, ac yng nghanol ei dalcen seren ddisglair.

 

Eto i gyd, nage ieithydd mohonof fi, ond mae’n amlwg imi fod yr enw Pafunethu’n golygu ‘gallu canu cyn rymused â’r môr,' a dŵr yw'r elfen fydd wastad yn ffurfio'r ffin rhwng y Ddau Fyd. Wedi dweud hynny, rhaid trin taclau o fetel i droedio trwy'r Hollt rhwng y Bydoedd. Rwy'n anghytuno â'm Hyfforddai Ifanc felly o ran ystyr yr enw Ruzasoha, gwrthdroad Pafuthenu. Fe ddehonglwn i mai 'dewis y taclau addasaf' ydy’r gem yng nghalon y gair hwn. Wedi'r cwbl, roedd David yn un mor dda am redeg i ffwrdd bob tro, ai dianc a wnâi neu beidio! A dim ond fel swigen yw'n holl Fydysawd ni yn yr ewin o ryw fôr aruthrol, cosmig. Tybed a grëwyd Realiti Amgen pan – wel, pan fu David ddiflannu o'n hun ni – ar ôl i Olau Serol y Telok-vovim gael ei ryddhau, hynny yw? Ac os felly, dyma fi’n ei ddychmygu’n ein gwylio ni oll, yn mynd ar ein busnes beunyddiol, coegwych, wrth iddo hwylio ymhlith cytserau hollol ddieithr.

 

Efallai, rywbryd yn y dyfodol, gallwn ni dorri trwy’r llen unwaith eto a dod o hyd iddo, pan fyddwn ni wedi dysgu harneisio pwerau anghymharol y Swynwyr i lwyddo – i ryw raddau, ac am ysbaid – yng ngemau annealladwy’r Delw-addolwyr. Nid myfi a ŵyr, fodd bynnag, beth sydd y tu hwnt i’n realiti ni, ond rwy’n clywed tarfiad yn y Maes Unedig, ac wedi bod yn gwirioni ar ddyfalu beth sy'n bod. Nid ei fod yn bosibl ei weld ef, Thoahatha Ihahi, fodd bynnag. Felly, gobeithio ei fod wedi’i ddal yn ei Fydysawd ei hunan, os ydy’n goroesi o gwbl. Rwy’n gwerthfawrogi’i aberth anfodlon, ac yn y blaen, ond wedi dweud hynny, dw i ddim eisiau dychmygu treulio hyd yn oed hanner awr arall yn chwarae Sgrabl Siniteg gyda’r fath lanc â Daud Pekar byth eto. Dyna fyddai artaith lwyr. Roedd ei syniadau naïf ynghylch cyfiawnder cymdeithasol a rhyddfreinio’r proletariat dros ben llestri’n wir, a doedden nhw ddim byd yn debyg i’m cynlluniau i alluogi’r rhai all eisoes eich helpu’ch hunain orau.

 

Fel rydych yn gwybod, er bod y Sêl Ysgarlad arswydus wedi mynd heibio oddi wrthyf fi i ymrithio ar fest chwith Elfan bellach, serch hynny, rwy wedi fy mendithio’n arbennig gan yr Hen Dduwdodau Rhyfedd nes y byddaf fi’n byw heb heneiddio dros saith einioes arferol. Mae’r milwyr ymosod, y bobl artiffisial, eisoes yn barod a bodlon. (Wel, ‘does ganddynt ddim dewis, mewn gwirionedd, wrth reswm.) Ac rwy’n bwriadu y byddwn ni Ddynoliaeth yn hyrddio’n hanfod i’r Gwagle, rywfodd neu’i gilydd, er ‘does gennym ni mo’r syniad lleiaf am yr hyn sydd yn llechu allan yno. Ond mynd yno i goncro, a meddiannu, a rheoli – fel haid o locustiaid rheibus yn ymosod ar gau o wenith – dyna fyddai’n brawf tra gweddus i’n Hil Newydd Uwcharwyr ni, oni fyddai?

 

A dyma fi felly'n dirwyn fy araith i ben, am y tro o leiaf, a finnau wedi bod yn hedfan rhwng y Bydoedd ar adenydd hud yr Hen Ddienyddiau. Gobeithio mai balch ohonof fi fyddai fy Mam-gu fawreddog, y Wraig Fawr Aratheroth (a adwaenid fel yr Arglwyddes Ari·anhrot yn rhywle arall, hefyd). Yr oedd hithau’n filwraig fawr ei pharch, alcemydd medrus, a bwtsiwr o fri ymhlith y gymuned ym Mhyrth-y-Fall, ac rwy’n ei charu hi cymaint eto. Wedi’r cyfan, hyhi a blannodd hadau rhyfeddod yn fy nghalon, fy mwydo â’r hen chwedlau oll, ennyn tân creugarwch yn fy meddwl, fy meithrin wrth i’m hud dyfu, fy helpu i lunio fy syniadau ynghylch bywyd, moesau, a goroesi, fy ngwthio tuag at y Nw Yrth, a’m hannog i areithio gerbron Meistri’r Urdd. Ac wedyn hithau a’m cefnogodd pan gipiais rym oddi ar yr hen griw a chael gwared ar y bradwyr yn y Pwll Diwaelod. O, mor anodd oedd meddu awdurdod arnynt i gyd ar y dechrau: roedd fel ceisio corlannu praidd o gysgodion ystyfnig a thrafferthus iawn! Ond enillais yn y pen draw, gan beri iddynt blygu i’m hewyllys, a hwythau’n ildio, ac ymostwng, ac ufuddhau. Www, rwy bron â gallu clywed yr Hen Feistres yn tuchan o'i darllenfa ar ffurf tŵr gwyrdd, tal, wrth i sawr adfywiol coedwyrdd nadreddu o gwmpas y fangre sanctaidd! Cyn imi ei hanfon i gwrdd mor ddisyfyd â’r Duwdodau Rhyfedd ym Mhalas Grisial Kish y dydd trist ond anochel hwnnw, wrth gwrs. Anesmwyth y pen a wisga’r goron!

 

O’m rhan i, rwy wedi dioddef cymaint oherwydd y Gwaith Mawr, yn gorfforol ac yn feddyliol, ac yn awr rwy’n ystyried dianc, yn syth ar ôl y seremoni nesaf, am gyfnod hir o leiaf os nad am byth. Mor flinedig ydw i, a’m hannwyl Chwaer Blod·íhweth mor sâl fel nad yw hi'n medru helpu yma, ac ni fydd ond yn rhaid imi ddodi’r fodrwy am fy mys i ddisylweddu a sleifio ymaith fel lleidr yn y nos. Rwy wedi dod i’r casgliad mai hunanaberth yw gwir natur crefft y Dewin, a ‘does dim problem gennyf ddiflannu’n llwyr o wyneb y Blaned Yrth hon, nawr bod pethau’n mynd rhagddo cystal. Mae fy hen gymrawd a phartner paffio, y Meistr Ffredrig Llwynlesg wedi bod yn fy nghynorthwyo’n ddirfawr gyda’i awgrymiadau ynghylch dognau priodol a swynion addas. Ceidwadwr Dirgelion Hynafol y Dauwynebog yw’r hen frithgi drewllyd, ond ni fyddaf fi’n llyncu’i elicsir ieuenctid ar frys! (Rwy'n credu iddo dwyllo yn yr arholiad, beth bynnag, a'i fod yn cael help o'r tu draw i'r bedd wrth adrodd y stori asgwrn pen llo honno am Trey, Koywin, Ari·anhrot, ac ati. Wedi'r cwbl, roedd y Ddisgleiriaf Ulí·uthlí bob tro'n ei ffafrio fe. Dyna ran o'r rheswm pam o'n ni'n ffraeo drwy'r amser pan o'n ni'n gryts. Ond, fel 'nes i ddarganfod, all Gwraig Hysbys o’r Coedwigoedd Iâ, hyd yn oed, ddim goroesi ergyd gan forthwyl haearn nefol Dvaldí!)

 

Thoahatha Falathala Palohathala fydd ffugenw addas imi ar fy nghrwydradau, gredaf fi (neu efallai Tohil Vanemuine Bamapana; neu Djehuti Wotan Prometheus) – tri enw ar Yrthiad, ch’wel, ac yn wir dw i'n dwlu ar chwarae gydag iaith gymaint! Fe fydd gennyf ŵn hir, llwyd amdanaf, ac yn fy llaw ffon pererin, wrth imi grwydro hwnt ac yma fel y mynnaf. Efallai fe hongiaf o Bren y Bywyd i wylio diwedd yr Holl Fyd, llawenhau wrth danio Bydysawd newydd i fodolaeth, neu gael pigo fy iau allan yn fynych gan eryrod am fy nigywilydd-dra. Fel rwy wedi dweud droeon, er mai Dewin dw i’n wir, nid wyf yn ddaroganwr, na gwneuthurwr gwyrthiau.

 

Ac nid Arglwydd Tywyll mohonof fi, ‘chwaith, y mae arno angen dylanwadu’n ddirwystr ar y Ddaear gron. Nac Ymerawdwr Adwythig, wir i chi, sydd â'i fryd ar ladd a distrywio, ac sydd eisiau dreifio Seren Farwol drwy’r Cosmos i chwalu Planedau, beth bynnag a feddylio, neu a honno’r gwadwyr anwybodus. Dim ond gweithio er lles mwyaf ein Rhywogaeth (y Thorlin bwystfilaidd ond dwyfol) y bûm i erioed, yn y ffordd orau y gallwn ei chanfod ta beth, heb fod yn Was Dioddefus [4]. Ond eto i gyd, wedi tueddu i farw mor dra anesboniadwy – a hawdd – y mae arweinyddion grymoedd y gwrthsafiad (diolch mawr i ddyfyn-ysbryd afreolus Dá·hwyth yno, y Rhodiwr mewn Tywyllwch)! I gloi, am y tro o leia, rwy'n falch iawn nawr o'ch gadael chi gyda geiriau fy sywn fy hun, "Drcyh Amginé" nawr iddo ddeffro'r Sciu-crak, a dechrau cyflawni'i nodau arfaethedig (a'r rhai anfwridol ym mhen hynny, wrth reswm!) [5]:

 

Mae'r saeth arian mor gyflym yn slaesu drwy'r nos,

Gan falu pob drws clo cyn iddi hedfan dros y ffos

Yn llawn llaid trwchus, du, ble mae'n bwrw braw a phoen;

Ni ffeindia swyn mo'm llw, sy'n byrlymu o anesmwyth hoen.

O'r gogledd hyd y de, fy ngeiriau a barha;

Nid calon gŵr na meddwl gwraig wrthdroa'u glân draha;

Bydd rhwystrau a barrau yn chwalu o'i flaen,

Wrth i ddiffyg a newid ymledu  — O, fe dyngaf yn blaen:

Mai'r ffordd dywyll yn ôl a gaeir yn dragwyddol;

A'r rhaib hon gynhyrcha ddyfodol rhagorol!

 

Un gair olaf (rwy'n addo!). Ro'n i'n gwybod drwy'r amser byddai Theori Acosmos yn dra phwysig (yn ogystal â Gêm Bywyd a Phatrymau Ffractal), ac ro'n i'n iawn yn y pen draw!

 

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...Felly, dyma ni – dyma fi – a'r ddefod dyngedfennol wedi'i chyflawni o'r diwedd, a'r Byd wedi'i newid am byth. Ac, O, mae fel petai'r Holl Fyd yn dod i ben, a'r ddihefelydd Arglwyddes Blod·íhweth newydd farw. (Dw i'n dal i ddifaru, weithiau, imi wahodd Tletlu a Tretru, y perfformwyr 'na yn y sioe pethau hynod, y Molruku Malaen, o borfeydd moch y Cefndir Deheuol, i aros yma, ond ro'n nhw mor llawn o syniadau ysgytwol a dyfeisiadau clyfar, doedd dim dewis 'da fi, dw i'n addo) Falle taw dim ond straeon yw’n bywydau ni i gyd, neu ddramâu, neu rywbeth tebyg, a ninnau’n cael ein gorfodi i actio, ac esgus, a chwarae rolau ynddyn nhw (gan bwy, ‘dwn i’m). Er gwaetha’ popeth, ar ôl hyn oll, dych chi ddim yn fy nabod i o gwbl, mewn gwirionedd, ar wahân i’r tamaid bach dw i wedi’i ddatgelu i chi. Pwy fuasai wedi meddwl y byddai bywyd fy nghymeriad, a’n hanes i, mor debyg i’r rhai wedi’u byw gan yr Arwr Anffodus, yr Hen Filwr, yr Ellyllyn Cryf, a’r Rhifolegwr Colledig dw i wedi bod yn sôn amdanyn nhw cymaint? Ble dyn ni'n terfynu, a ble mae pawb arall yn cychwyn? Mewn ffordd dwi’n teimlo taw rhannau ohono i yw Dai, a Steff, a Jack, a John, bellach bod eu lleisiau wedi'u gwau trwof, a finnau’n troedio’r llwybrau maent wedi'u creu. Ac er dw i’m wedi cwympo mewn cariad erioed cyn hyn achos mod i ‘di bod mor brysur, pwy a ŵyr am y dyfodol?

 

Y fath drueni ydy fod cymaint o'r bobl artiffisial yn dewis hunanddinistrio i'w hanfon eu hunain i'r "Baradwys Anfaterol" y dyddiau hyn. Doedd dim byd o gwbl ynglŷn â hynny yn ‘Cyfrinachau’r Gelfyddyd Dduaf.’ Ac nid yr hen Nó'ohl meddw a'i adar rhyfedd, hyd yn oed, a allai fod wedi rhagweld y drychineb amgylcheddol yr ydym wedi'i thynnu yn ein pen yn ddiweddar. (Sgileffaith anffodus ar y peiriannau "Cwm-kov" hynny oedd i fod i buro'r awyr gan ddefnyddio osôn a golau uwchfioled oedd iddyn nhw achosi llawer o farwolaethau annisgwyl – a niweidio'r atmosffer a'r hinsawdd yn enbyd. Ond gwnaethon nhw domen o arian i sawl person. Fe all dyn glywed y chwerthin aflywodraethus yn diasbedain drwy'r awyr wenwynig hyd yn oed heddiw!) Mae rhaid arch arnom ni Ddynolryw i sicrwydd nawr. Wel dyna ni, ‘te, dyna fel y mae hi. Dw i ‘di ‘neud popeth dw i’n gallu ‘neud yma, ac mae'n hen bryd i fi'i hel hi. Ond beth bynnag fydd yn digwydd nesaf, fe fydd hi’n stori lawn dagrau a chwerthin – a hud – ac un ddiddorol tu hwnt. Yr wyf fi’n tyngu ichi – os bydd fy ngair yn golygu unrhyw beth – ar rymoedd newydd y Ddaear, y Swynwyr Dioglyd, a’r Delw-addolwyr Seraffaidd! A dyma fi felly ar fin dibyn, yn lledu’n adenydd unwaith ‘to, a ‘ngeiriau swynol yn barod – a dw i ar fedr deifio i’r Gwacter diderfyn unwaith ac am byth, a’m gwynt yn fy nwrn!

 

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[1] Hynny yw, David Balrog Procter. Mae'r bennod hon wedi ymddanogs yn “Cofion Dewisol o Gof Detholus.” — P.M.

 

[2] Sef "Monadic Assemblage of Kinetic Aspects" (Maka), hynny yw, "CUAC" neu "Casgliad Unedig Agweddau Cinetig," a esblygodd o ECO on-Mansha. — P.M.

 

[3] Dw i ddim yn amau galluoedd y Doethur Da yn y lleiaf, wrth gwrs, ond fe fyddwn i’n nodi taw feistres lem yw henaint heb os nac oni bai. Rhaid i ddyn gyfaddef, fodd bynnag, dyw e ddim yn llygad ei le yn ei farn o gwbl yma nac mewn sawl man arall chwaith o ran manylion, am wn i. Nid ei fod yn dweud celwyddau, dim ond yn adrodd ei fersiwn personol ei hun ar y gwirionedd. Falle taw ei daclau fe oedd ar fai; neu sut naeth e ddehongli’r wybodaeth symbolaidd. Neu’i synnwyr amser allai fod wedi mynd o’i le am sbel. Eto i gyd, fel naeth rhywun sylwi fan arall, ym myd hud mae personoliaethau, delweddau a digwyddiadau bob amser yn tueddu i newid, cymysgu a’u hailsefydlu eu hunain mewn ffurfiau newydd (“solve et coāgulā” yw’r egwyddor briodol yma). Ond o’r hyn rwyf finnau wedi llwyddo i’w – grafu – o fwrllwch brown bras sythwelediad, dwedwn i taw “wedi cael eu haeddiant yn wir” mae sawl un o’r cymeriadau, ond, fel naeth D.B.P. grybwyll (yn hollol gywir y tro ‘ma), a “nage yn y modd a fwriadwyd na dymunwyd.” — P.M.

 

[4] Dw i'n cael fy atgoffa yma o ymson yr hen Krey-vondrur ar ddechrau “Cyflafan ar y Migl-Urth” (neu “Trasiedi yn y Canolfyd,” dw i ddim wedi penderfynu eto). — P.M.

 

“Gwelais â’m llygad chwith ddall holl gynnydd allanol yr Héngaryon, cyndeidiau hynafol y Nwvogith. A dyna oeddwn i’n cwympo i lawr pydew diwaelod ymhlith gwreiddiau coeden ddirfawr, dan weiddi: At ba bwrpas y dyfeision nhw eu holl dechnoleg ryfeddol, wrth fwrw’r ysbryd allan o bob man? Wrth i fi ruthro drwy amser a’r gofod, bu raid imi dderbyn fy niffygion a dod yn gyfarwydd â’r hyn o’m blaen ac o’m hamgylch, gan adael iddo fy nysgu. Allwn i ddatgan yn uchel o’r diwedd: ‘Fe’m ffrwythlonwyd a dof yn ddoeth; Tyfaf yn wir a ffynnu; Rwnau a’m harwain o feddwl i feddwl; Swynion a’m tywys o fywyd ofer at y Gwaith Mawr.’ Wedyn, sylweddolais y gallwn i wneud y pethau canlynol yn ogystal â llawer iawn o rai eraill. Fy ngwaredu fy hun o gyfyngiadau, dihuno’r meirw, diffodd tân, iacháu briwiau emosiynol a chorfforol, amddiffyn cyfeillion yn brwydro, ennill a cadw cariad, datgelu ymarferwyr dewiniaeth ddu a’u gyrru hwy ymaith, a rhwymo gelynion a pheri i’w harfau dorri. Ac fe wyddwn mai fy ffawd i oedd mynd i ryfel yn llythrennol ac yn drosiadol i achub y Migl-Urth rhag ebargofiant.”

 

[5] Mae’r rhai ohonom yn Urdd Cyfrinachau sydd ar ôl eto, yn nabod y swyngan hon fel “Torri Drwodd y Fforddolyn Llwyd.” Wrth gwrs, heb holl fanylion priodol y Gweithrediad Mawr, dyw hi ddim o ddefnydd ymarferol. — y Meistr Veythra Marm·íku [P.M.].