Despite all the dangers, worries, and risks bound up with the process of direct and indirect resistance I’ve been mentioning, we should aim as far as we can at planting secret seeds that will grow quietly and unnoticed, then begin to challenge received ideas, and at last, cause an explosion that will transform the World by overcoming the oppressive forces of State and Church. It will be essential for us to learn to be exceptionally flexible; that there are various solutions to lots of problems; that many truths are temporary and provisional; and that we have to work so hard to interpret the World ethically before beginning to heal it. We must give up believing that only generalized ideas are holy and worthy or worship, whilst particular ones are devilish and deserving of destruction. Music and art have exceptional power to free up minds and allow the most complex ideas to become graspable, and as a result, to awake people’s consciousness and cause them to think and begin engaging in politics, resisting, and fighting back. However, the results of these forms of communication can be more unpredictable and harder to control than with other methods – linguistic ones, that is – like mentalist poetry and phaneronic sorcery. So, we should choose with care if we are to accomplish the best and most far-reaching results in the most effective way.

“Waking the Slumbering Giant”

Ms Sesiline Arian

 

 

Here we are then, well, here I am, Fred your humble narrator. I don’t know who you are, nor where, nor even if there’s anyone there to hear this piece in the end, but I think I should say it out loud, come what may. I feel that now would be a good time to share it with you, or at least record it so that whoever’s still existing in ages to come can find it. Veythra Marm·íku (Pjetër Mamrick) of Illyria in the Haunted Homeland, Full Member of the Guild of Secrets and good friend to me, recited it to Dá·hwyth Prok·ethra (Procter junior, Dai, y’know) and me, when I was still connected with that Malicious Madhouse and working with the young devil who’s fractured the whole world by now. (Might as well use the old magical names here to give a taste of how things used to be, although everything’s changed so much since the good old days.) I managed to escape from the hellish estate in Aberdydd in the end when everyone started turning into mythical creatures, and exploding all over the place. But it was so hard because the magic was so strong there.

 

Several people had been casting binding spells, I believe, without intending to, more than likely, but very successfully despite that. I had to use all my strength just to dematerialize and transport myself to the Temple of the Hidden Glory in the first place, and that’s a place that belongs to us ourselves in the Guild too. Then, I laid low there for a while as I got my strength back, before updating the defensive charms as best I could. I’m an expert on pills, tinctures, and elixirs, of course, and that’s why the chanting and dancing about’s so embarrassingly difficult for me. I moved next to Challavas Manor, home to my family, the Llwynlesgs, where the fire whispers secrets in the old Yrthian language, and for centuries, mysterious rites have taken place at midnight every Autumntide under the sickly glow of Lūna Levis, at the Whey-cake Vigil (the Fireday closest to the Night of the Dead). (I dunno why: we're not an old family of famous Wizards ourselves, after all. But the place is full of dark energy, according to Gertrude and some people or other have always come here to play the fool at specific times like I was saying. I believe her, to some extent, too, after my experinces here with Dai.) That’s where I am now, and I can’t leave at the moment. But I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to wait and guard the font in the form of a cauldron of green brass, or jump in hoping I’ll disappear.

 

After all, Dai Procter managed to flee straight after the last initiation ceremony, after he’d grabbed that exceptional ring from its hidey-hole (well, that's the story, the stinky old thief!). Only with a considerable amount of help from me of course, to say the least. Then again, he was born to one of the great magical families whilst I was only a spoiled kid from a rich family, at the start at least. Procter should have been able to ride the tempest easily then, after all, he set it in motion, and I was his right-hand man for a while. Of course, I didn’t have much choice, after I renounced the family business as a boy, declaring that I’d rather be dead in a ditch than be part of the dastardly paternalistic plot to oppress the working class. But I’d convinced myself that probing the Old Masters’ secrets was the way to solve all the World’s problems. And there I was following the footsteps of my ancestor Ioan who went off to the Heart of the Continent to be a monk and then spent all his time doing esoteric experiments, communicating with inhuman beings, and scribbling spells. I'd run away (although not as far as the Continent, in truth), leaving poor Gertrude behind to her fate!

 

Ah, I remember how we used to fight when we were younger, David and I, with him full of all the passionate ideas about changing the World through will-power and physical might, and me just wanting to stay in the laboratory to potter with my recipes, liniments, elixirs, engines, and inventions. I dreamt that they’d improve people’s health and well-being, intensify their senses, make them stronger and more intelligent, allow them to enjoy more leisure time, and help them to escape from their miserable lives and live better ones. But on the contrary, they stole my thoughts when I wasn’t concentrating, to twist them and use them for their own sinister ends without my knowing it, then anyway. Oh, how could I’ve been so stupid? It just goes to show how one’s best and most detailed plans can go awry so easily! Not that I was some kind of mastermind, but I imagined I was playing my part in a bigger plan, perhaps.

 

But the old Youngest Wizard was a good friend to me over the years to be honest, as he left me alone when that’s what I wanted, and gave a home to me at other times without asking too many questions. He was like a brother to me, in a way, one who would keep an eagle eye on what I was doing and what I had on the go. Come to think about it, perhaps he had his eye on my inheritance. But I wouldn’t acquiesce to his over-the-top plans later on, nor encourage and support him when he set his mind to taking the Guild over so mercilessly. Oh, I had to run away then, I couldn’t have done any good staying there anyway, and I so wanted to travel the World collecting samples. And so I did. But at least I discovered luminescent stripy fungi, psychedelic blue beans, poisonous cannibal lizards, prickly fire-lice, bristly pig-bugs, pustular feather-trout, and multi-form juice. I came back when all the palaver had calmed down.

 

I can’t stop believing that the whole situation’s some kind of penance for me, maybe, for all my transgressions up to now, or a punishment for my myriad innate weaknesses, but everything’s so unclear, so far off, and I can’t think straight. It could be a test, on the other hand, or an experiment, but one to discover what, I couldn’t say. Ooh, I’ve got an excruciating headache, man! But that’s enough of all the feeling sorry for myself. I need to pull my finger out and begin the story, then, my unseen audience. Sorry about that metaphor, which is so unfortunate under the circumstances. As I was saying, I can’t leave the place yet, and I have to do something while I wait, so I’ll be recording it on on a permanent medium whilst broadcasting it to the All-World at the same time. It’s one of the new, modern legends about the Nw Yrth, called “Why Things Are as They Are.” I’m not one for words, not anymore, anyway, but there’s something calling on me to have my say [*].

 

There’s some exceptional power in words, they say, so I’ll be speaking carefully, hoping against hope that some good will come from doing so. Perhaps I’ll conjure some helpful spirit to teach me and guide me, and then come to understand something extra of import about this most cruel mess that’s engulfing the whole World like in one of the worst video nasties. But anyway, I’ll enjoy telling the tale at least. It’ll keep my mind from concentrating on my own problems too much too. So, off we go! 

 

At the very beginning, somewhere or other in the great beyond, there were two areas with an empty space between them. One place was dark, and cold, and full of ice, whilst the other was light, and hot, and full of fire. The flaming tongues and the freezing breezes fought in the void for countless ages but neither one force nor the other could win. However, through their constant interplay, in the end, the warmth and the coldness created some kind of strange, smoky mist which condensed very slowly into myriad drops of thick, black liquid, that did not contain either water or fire. This was the first conscious substance in the All-World, and it was so excited at being created from nothing, as if in a rapture, that it exploded to fill the two worlds. In the fiery land, the droplets formed an enormous block of featureless clay, and in the frosty wasteland, they flew around changing their colour, and their shape, and their size all the time.

 

At last, the crazy sparks moved as a flock through the void and landed on the sleepy clay which absorbed them, growing bigger and bigger. And there was the block sweating and shuddering before splitting into two fleshy chunks in an earthquake that also released a river of milky fluid to nourish the living hunks of matter. And as they lay there dozing, they competed to imbibe different amounts of the white ambrosia, growing and changing as a result. After a long time, they had developed to be two heavenly bodies. The bigger and hotter one was the Sun, the smaller and colder one was the Moon. The Sun was full of fire and steam, and was rash and warlike, whilst the Moon was discerning and crafty, and full of snow and ash. 

 

The Moon, who at that time appeared like a snake with a bull’s head, accepted the rules of time, and wanted to enjoy the journey of existence, whilst the Sun in the form of a hawk with a lion’s head resisted change and decay, and always needed to rush to his destination. The Moon realized that living in a world ruled by time involved loss and anguish as well as joy. She chose voluntarily to follow the twisting red path of the hero full of thorns and difficulty. On the other hand, the Sun insisted on striding along the black road that’s straight and leads towards success and renown. Even in the twilight of the All-World, he would be running wildly with the great hunt, shouting, “Let my will be done, as above, so below also!” 

 

The Moon and the Sun were very powerful, but they were not divinities. Rather, they were forces of nature, and they could not create things directly. So, there were both of them declaring with one voice, “Woe is me, who will be able to kill, and watch things die, but who cannot produce anything at all on my own!” Before the Yrth came to be in the form of a physical planet, they were there meditating for a very long while on their own and in vain. There were lots of ideas flying around at random in the mind of the Sun and the Moon about how things should be. The Moon understood that the cycles of nature would mean change and pain, thinking, “A different thing will you be when you come out of the storm, compared with what you were when you went in.” {Lifecycles}

 

On the contrary, the Sun only worried about his part in the red sunset, which would not be complete destruction, but an end to things as they were then, lamenting, “I desire to sing like a bird, without worrying about who is listening nor about what they think.” Things began to happen when some of the thoughts wandered off and met in the void. That was the start of the great carpet of knowledge, similar to a bejewelled net, and in it lay the Moon and the Sun like two dreamers, the one creating the other.

 

First, because of their imaginings, there was an intelligent wind blowing above the primal ocean which had appeared in the middle of the void, rising a shining mist that created the four Underworlds which were insubstantial, ever-shifting, and full of shadows. The wind’s voice awoke a host of holy beings which opened their eyes and saw the creation for the first time like a field of incredible flowers opening their petals. The first world was a small, dark, and cramped island in the middle of four seas, where the holy beings lived together with the mist people, the silly folk, and the great trickster (these were the original ancestors). And there, everything was different shades of blue. Amongst the tribe of the silly folk, the first father living in the north and the first mother living in the west found each other by waving torches and walking until they met in the middle of the first world. 

 

Then, they dug a hole in the sky in the east of the first world, and led everyone through it. There they were then in the second world, which was also enclosed and lightless, and home to sleek, turquoise serpents and hairy, glaucous monsters. Everything there was red, and yellow, and green. There, the original ancestors offended the serpents’ chief, who exiled them from the second world. But when the first father fashioned a ladder of jet, they were able to escape through a hole in the sky in the south of the second world. The extensive third world contained several intersecting rivers and sacred mountains, and there lived the welcoming tribe of the fire-beasts. There, the main colours were black, and white, and grey, if we can call those colours, and the whole place was bathed in ultraviolet light that caused a strange glow everywhere. 

 

But the great trickster could not resist kidnapping the lord of the fire-beasts’ children. And as a result, the king caused a flood, and so the original ancestors had to flee. And that is how they reached the fourth world, where a tribe of water-beasts was living in the enormous seas under the light of Sun and Moon. Everything was shining, and multi-coloured, and warm there. And there the original ancestors flourished, as they governed life with the help of the seasons, and communed with the Sun and the Moon on top of the sacred mountains they had re-created with soil from the second world.

 

And there, in the fourth world, the first mother and the first father had twins who became great heroes, and killed the water-beasts. Then, they travelled all the way through the seas to the south pole. When they arrived there, the wind from the sails of their boat kissed a huge piece of salty ice causing it to melt, and release two trees, which developed to be a proud, tall, she-angel, and a clever, short he-demon. These married and had five magical children who were the masters of the five elements, namely air, water, metal, soil, and fire. These children killed everyone in the tribe of the silly folk, using their bodies to form the physical shape of the Yrth and the Heavens, and thinking they would rule the fifth world, the Yrth, from their magnificent but ostentatious castle. At that time, all the land on the surface of the Yrth was one huge, circular continent surrounded by the Salty Outer Ocean. In the middle of the continent was the Little Inner Sea, full of fresh water, and in its centre was an island where there was a field of rushes. In the dead centre of this island was the stronghold of the five masters of the Yrth. 

 

Then, as the five rejoiced in their work of making, and using, and transforming, which was so destructive but so creative at the same time, the old trickster appeared suddenly to make a wager with them. “Behold!” he said, “I shall throw this stone into the fountain in the heart of your fortress. If it descends to the bottom, I promise that everyone who dies here shall go back to the third world to live from here on.” But the five masters laughed at him, as he dropped the stone in the well. And so the rock sank deeper and deeper, as the five masters guffawed louder and louder. How much time went by as they stood there waiting? No-one will ever know for sure. Of course, the stone reached the bottom in due course, with a single quiet plop. And with that, the five masters were sucked down the well, following the path of the rock, leaving the place empty apart from the great deceiver, together with the holy beings and the mist people who had been watching all this in complete silence.

 

When the old trickster pulled the mask off his face, and the cloak off his back, he looked like some terrible monster with a body like a lion, legs like a man, eyes like an owl, antlers like a stag, and a tail like a cat. But despite his appearance, indeed it was the Sun who was the great trickster. The two tribes responded differently to each other, however. Whilst the mist people exclaimed, and shouted, and spluttered in surprise, the holy spirits sang the praises of the Glittering Sun. And that’s why the pure spirits were allowed to ascend to the heavens where they became the stars, whilst the mist people were thrown out into the void. And there the Fickle Moon tended to them, so that, in the end, they would grow to be new planets. In contrast to the Sun and the Moon, then, the Yrth was not there at the very beginning, and it contains lots of water, and salt, and soil, and iron, and behaves like a cheeky child, playing, and singing, and picking its nose, and shouting, and breaking wind. 

 

Now, the Sun and the Moon were always contending with each other. The Sun would claim that he was master of the All-World, and the Moon would say that she had created herself. Despite his exceptional strength, that was a statement that provoked the Sun terribly, and so he summoned the Moon to appear and challenged her, saying “Let us see who can make the best thing!” Then, the Sun and the Moon materialized on the Yrth in the form of a wise man and a great woman standing on the shore of the Little Inner Sea. And there was the old man dancing in the waters of the sea as the waves formed themselves into bright and shining spirits which zipped about everywhere. But after that, the fair woman answered by prancing amongst the sand, which began to grow into strangely enticing plants, of every kind, and size, and colour. They were enormous and very strong, and could move around, but only very slowly. 

 

Then, the wrinkled man commanded, “Let the creations speak!” Thereupon, the air spirits began to sing, and shout, and recite, saying, “The Sun is the lord of all.” The Moon was reluctant to do the same thing, answering, “Why should I obey you, brother? We were created at the same time. You’re not in charge of me, although you are so much bigger, and much stronger.” But when she heard the spirits laughing at her, she tried to cause her fruits and vegetables to speak to her, tickling them, and beseeching them, and scolding them. Despite every effort, however, the plants would but whisper, and mumble, and giggle, whilst waving their branches and their stems weakly. And so, the Moon was shamed, but the Sun would not give up competing yet.

 

And there was the old codger saying, “Make for yourself a hut, and go in with your pitiful creatures. Then I shall burn it to ashes. If you survive, I shall bow down low before you, declaring that you created yourself!” Although she was terrified about whatever would happen, the beautiful woman said, “No-one gets to live the life she chooses. I might as well go to my doom as a hero, winning eternal life in the mind of the All-World.” At that very moment, she went into the temporary cottage made of their limbs by the vegetation, the rest of the moving plants with her. 

 

It was as if the shed was a sort of green cocoon made of verdant foliage. She said to herself, “It’s not possible for fear to disappear, it can’t go anywhere. But being brave is knowing what to do, and doing it. So, into the hut with me to change a challenge into an opportunity!” Now, everything was green and full of sap, and so it took a considerable time for the wise man to light a fire in the material of the place. Whilst he worked with all his might to destroy his sister, there were the vines producing great round pods, as the muscular roots of all the plants burrowed through the soft soil that opened up before them to form a tunnel leading underground to safety on the island in the middle of the Little Inner Sea. 

 

So, as the Moon and the moving vegetation escaped, crawling, there was the Sun succeeding to burn the hut, and rejoicing to hear the shells exploding noisily, imagining that the thorn in his side was perishing. But the Moon was safe, far from the beach, and when the Sun went into the shed that was only a ruin by then, he went raving man on realizing her stratagem. The Sun went to it and set upon her in the form of a snake, and a lion, and a waterfall, and a fire, but she herself sat there before him in the form of a stone statue depicting the shape of an enormous pregnant woman. And as she squatted there reciting, “What was yesterday is not today, what is today will not be tomorrow,” her brother could not hurt her. Because the air spirits hated hearing and seeing the heavenly bodies fighting so badly, they descended to the centre of the Yrth through the plants’ tunnels, melting everything before them, and that is how the exceptional power came to exist in the heart of the planet today. 

 

On top of that, so violent was their passage that they split the single continent into two halves separate from each other full of mountains and valleys, and caused the fresh water in the Little Inner Sea to accumulate in lakes and flow in rivers. The Sun cursed the plants, and spread them over the face of the planet, saying that they would never move again although he could not destroy the work of his sister the Moon completely. And because it had changed so much, the Nw Yrth was the name of the planet from then on. And the competitiveness between the son and daughter of the void only increased also.

 

And so, through the ceaseless fighting between the Fickle Moon and the Dazzling Sun, came the two great tribes to live on the Nw Yrth, the one called the Dladli on the Northern Continent, and the other called the Sunri on the Southern Continent, as we have heard about in the tale named the Sunsong. The hard-working and sensible Sunri were movers and shakers, who appeared like proud and oppressive sorcerers to less developed races. And they would malign the Dladli, calling them childish game players, stupid country bumpkins, and wasters of valuable time and resources, and claiming that they were just good-for-nothing idlers. 

 

About the Dladli themselves, we do not know much at all, as they were secretive and mysterious, despite their exceptional strength. So, the rest of this tale will deal with the Sunri, although the Dladli exerted exceptional influence over them from behind the scenes. Suffice it to say that in the end, the one tribe needed the other to survive, not to mention flourish. And in the same way that the Sun and the Moon came from the same substance originally, although they were not very fond of admitting the fact, the two groups needed to unite once again at last. 

 

Amongst the Sunri there were eight nobles, namely: the brother and sister Lufsi the hunter and Tvetni the musician; the brother and sister Nukti the farmer and Hepi the smith; the brothers Orzi the scholar and Itsi the wizard; and the brother and sister Sukti the fool and Nezpi the sailor. To be completely accurate, Nukti would change from being a man to being a woman every other year, as he had stared at the face of the Blue Moon for too long when he was a child. The Sunri were not people, nor beasts, not spirits either, but some strange combination of the three things. Lufsi was like a water-horse, Tvetni like a wine-dust-bird, Orzi like a flaming black dog, Nukti like an albino sow or a white boar, Itsi like a flying water-beast, Hepi like a bony mare, Sukti like a three-headed dragon, and Nezpi like a water-leaper. Perhaps it would be fair to say that they were magical beings with personalities very like those legendary creatures. Leader of the tribe was Lufsi the hunter, who came to exist in three other aspects, namely Azli the teacher, Selki the thief, and Belzi the butcher.

 

“A place for everyone, and everyone in his place,” was the watchword of the Sunri. Every one of them was very proud of his character, and his job, and his social standing, apart from Sukti, who wanted to prance about doing one thing after the other without finishing any of them. The others said that Sukti was a fool since in their opinion it appeared as if he refused to take responsibility for a single aspect of running the tribe, or cooperating with them to impose order on the Nw Yrth. In truth, Sukti preferred travelling about the planet to visit unknown lands and discover secrets, whilst everyone else was working exceptionally hard in the glorious motherland. He said that he was the legate of the Sunri to the suffering nations, and ambassador plenipotentiary at large, and that he was bringing a message of liberation through unflinching obedience, satisfaction through military discipline, and understanding through blind faith. But on the sly, Sukti was trying to fulfil his own mysterious ends, to be sure. 

 

And indeed, when they had become established, and grown strong enough, the Sunri began to go around sowing the seeds of civilization and dispensing food, and strength, and knowledge. Lufsi gave the bow and arrows, Tvetni, war-songs and lullabies; Nukti, the plough and grain; Hepi, iron and the forge; Orzi, parchment and glyphs; Itsi, numbers and the calendar; and Nezpi, maps and sails. Sukti would just ferret about, ask questions, and build strange devices. Indeed, the seven Sunri tamed the primitive races they came across, who were uncivilized cannibals in all probability, and would usually die very young after pitiful lives full of fear and pain. But when the folk had received their presents, the Sunri would become, as it were, a massive dragon, roaring, “Do this,” and “Do not do that” on pain of death or worse. And wherever they went, they would build cities, containing sweat-shops, punishment and conditioning centres, and houses of humiliation and supplication. They would catch the local folk there, half way between the exciting dangers of the natural world, and the imagined glory of the heavens, binding them with rules, laws, commandments, faiths, obligations, duties, and accounts. 

 

The Sunri always had to suppress individuality so that they people would play the part of cogs in the social machine. And they would teach their serfs to embrace the worldly values of utility and acquisitiveness, in place of the sacred ones, namely playfulness, letting-go, and sacrifice. Despite that, the former were not real gifts from the children of the Sun, but tools to ensnare and coerce those who were seeking stability and an end to pain. Sukti amongst the Sunri refused to abase himself to these oppressive ideals, suffering terribly in the end.

 

However, the Sunri dragon would bind people to selfishness and fear so that they would not enjoy the money, or the power, or the luxuries, or the myriad pleasures they would win, imprisoning them in the middle of multiple very complex and interconnected systems, and releasing evil into the Nw Yrth. Even when some rebels would go into the forest along unseen paths, to search for the gold of enlightenment, like dogs chasing the scent, and find it, they would come bring back to civilization carrying nothing but the ashes of disappointment, if they were not exceptionally strong in body and spirit. 

 

In the meantime, the seven hardworking comrades in the tribe of the Sunri, all of them apart from Sukti that is, had taken possession of the plain of Mar-koza in the heart of the Southern Continent and had transformed it into a fruitful paradise with their exceptional skills, and built seven ziggurats there to live in as they began to rule and order everything around them. In the middle of the field of rushes amongst the ziggurats was placed an enormous, flat stone, in which was a well leading very deep into the material of the Nw Yrth. This well, in the form of a cauldron of green brass was always full of thick, black liquid, and when the seven drank it, they would become very strong, and terribly clever, and very happy for a while, until the effects faded. As it happens, this stuff caused them to live for many long years as well. This was the situation, then. Over the years, the Sunri had come to govern the whole Southern Continent with military precision and unwavering discipline, from their headquarters in the enormous ziggurats amongst the field of rushes. 

 

These were full of miraculous machines which transformed the hidden energy dammed up in the core of the planet into heat, and light, and movement, and sound. Since they believed that it was the Resplendent Sun who gave such strength and ability to them, he was their divinity, their symbol, and their guardian, whilst it was the Fickle Moon who was, on the contrary, obviously the deceiver, the enemy, and the representative of everything bad and to be eschewed. Even more definite was the fact that the Treacherous Moon smiled on those terrible and totally unknown creatures which scraped an existence on the Northern Continent in most uncivilized and straitened circumstances. Without a doubt, according to the Sunri, the other faction deserved being utterly destroyed, as they were always changing, and refused to exercise the appropriate authority over their extensive, wild territory. Having said that, they would never attack the lands of the south, in truth fighting back only when they needed to defend themselves.

 

To be perfectly honest, it’s completely true that the Dladli only wanted to keep things on an even keel, those beings who used to live such rough-and-tumble lives, spending their time carousing, feasting and getting drunk, playing unruly and dangerous sports, watching farcical and violent plays, and dancing furiously all night to loud, fast music, and so on and so forth. They would use their ever-changing language as a tool to spark direct communication from mind to mind, intuit answers to abstruse riddles, and guess correctly about things that had not yet happened. In this regard, the effects of the Dladli tongue were similar to magical techniques used in other lands. 

 

Despite all that, the truth is that it would be calumny to say that the Dladli hated order, perseverance, and commitment. They knew as well as anyone else on the Nw Yrth that regularity was common and very important in the world of nature. But contrary to the Sunri, they believed passionately, and from their own experience, that the creative patterns could not be compelled, and that they should arise spontaneously. And the strangest thing about the Dladli was how they succeeded to hide themselves, for one could not find them by seeking them, nor see them by looking straight at them. For definite, many would doubt that they were there at all. 

 

But from time to time the Dladli would come across someone by complete accident who would want to cut himself free from the civilized oppression of the Sunri, and learn how to begin saving himself, and then, the world and his fellow-creatures, by kindling living sparks of imagination in his life. They would explain that there is black and white in everything under the Moon, and that we all need to work very hard all the time to choose the correct path for ourselves without too much self-hatred or self-righteousness. Indeed, there would be no cease to the need for choice, change, and growth, and only death would be waiting at the end of the journey. The Dladli would share their thoughts, their feelings, and their experiences, for to them, individual consciousness was a secondary function.

 

First, the apprentice would have to prepare by undergoing trials, wandering and getting lost all the time, but finding some aspect of his true self every time he stumbled and fell. And he would then begin to accept himself and love himself as he was, rather than as he wanted to be. Thus could his mind, his spirit, begin to roam free beyond the confines of the body, opening doors in bank walls. In this way he would succeed, perhaps, in descending to the Underworld, penetrating the lost worlds of the original ancestors, and swimming from the fourth multicoloured world, to the third black, white, and grey world, to the second red, yellow, green world, and down, towards the first, blue world, even. Secondly, he would need to take off the armour of societal conventions before penetrating the most terrifying cave to kill the dragon that guards the treasure he had been seeking so diligently. After jumping into the void, in the form of a winged fish, then, at the start of his spaceless, timeless flight, he would discover that there is no holy kingdom where ultimate established meaning exists. But instead of that, he would reach the home of pure being, where there is no longer inside and outside any longer, and where all meaning has melted. 

 

And after the apprentice has deleted the mental forces that were binding him, so that he is at one with the world as it really is, he would see that pain and pleasure are the same thing, as are good and bad, hell and heaven, virtue and vice, divinities and demons. And then having got rid of his attachment to things, he would realise there was nothing important for him to do any longer, as he would see that discipline leads to pleasure, illusions give way to illumination, and by seeking release he becomes trapped. Furthermore, having embraced the evil monster within himself, and having loved it, he could unite with it in order to kill it. 

 

The hero would have come full circle, and become an old wistful wizard. He could then return in the form of a sea-horse with the eyes of a falcon. to share the story and open the doors of dream to those others who would want to learn from him, showing them how to play seriously again. And perhaps if that happened, the fetters of conventional society would disappear without them having to leave the wrists, as it were. And indeed, the Sunri detested the Dladli because of their disordered ideas, their informal doctrine, and their revolutionary practices, and worked with all the might of their bodies, minds, and spirits to bring the influence of their sworn enemies to nought.

 

In due course, back in the field of rushes, Itsi married Hepi and they had a daughter, Zuvti, who was like a black goat. Orzi too married Nukti, who bore a girl called Harti, who was like a banshee. Nezpi and Sukti would be off most of the time, but when they were home, they would live together but they were not man and wife. And Sukti at least was very jealous of those others who had had children, and decided to prevent Lufsi and Tvetni from having a baby. Well, that was what he whispered to himself. But in his heart he was furious, as he thought that the other Sunri insulted him and mocked him because of his odd beliefs and his unusual behaviour. He was sure that things would be much better with him at the helm. If Lufsi needed to die to achieve this, so be it! Three tries for a usurper would it be from then on, therefore, as we shall see. 

 

First, Sukti dug a deep hole full of sharp spikes in the area where Lufsi used to go hunting, and covered it with leaves and branches. When Lufsi fell into it, he was pierced and died. But there were the plants around the hole dropping healing herbs on his broken body, and filling it with fruitful, moist humus. And there Lufsi lay for three days being transformed, and when he awoke, he was Azli the teacher, and in his hand was an ancient book, as he had learned the secrets of the grave. When Sukti saw this, he was very frightened, and fled straight away to the south pole before the others could catch him, to size up the situation and plan the next ruse. 

 

Then, after a suitable period, Sukti built a tall, splendid tower with a spiral staircase in it, on a beach not too far from the ziggurats of the Sunri and lit a fire at its top. When Azli went to investigate, Sukti caused the door to lock before he reached the top. And as Azli stood there surveying his territory proudly, his enemy lit a fuse and the place exploded burning Azli to cinders, which were blown away by the wind. But the breeze dropped every speck of the embers on the dry red soil, full of haematite, around the tower where they continued burning. When it began to rain after three weeks, the water and the air mixed with the ash, the clay full of metal, and the living fire which would not be extinguished. And there was a giant with a flaming skull digging himself out of the ground. This was Selki the thief, who had stolen the power of all the elements.

 

Sukti was frightened to such an extent when he heard and saw this terrifying creature roaring that he ran off like a cat out of hell, or a weasel, or a doe, or a greyhound. He was still running like the wind when he reached the Northern Continent. And there, he fell down almost dead, and there he languished, until the unseen inhabitants of the area came to him, and cared for him. Perhaps it is true that they could not be seen because there is some way of enhancing the bodily senses through sacrificing that body. But although their words were very powerful, they were much more than mere voices. After considerable time, Sukti revived and came to his senses with the help of their hellishly effective magic. But in addition to their food, and their medicines, he had sucked up lots of their ideas and their attitudes, and learned surprising methods of playing wildly with the forces of nature from the Dladli although he could not see them. In the end, the two parties were delighted as a result of the unexpected visit, one lot because they loved spreading mischief, the other as he believed he would get his own way at last and pay back the cruel Sunri. 

 

Now, Selki was spending days on end in Tvetni’s ziggurat, and in no time, he had made her pregnant. Whilst everyone else was celebrating, the accountant and informant Rumpi son of Shafti the butcher, slunk off to tell his master Sukti who was lurking by then in an old blue cottage on the banks of the swift river at the foot of the mountain of limestone on the outskirts of the pine forest called Nogrut at the northern end of the Southern Continent. When Sukti heard the happy news, he almost ignited with fury, and there and then decided to act to harm his enemies terribly as soon as would be possible. Under the influence of the cunning Dladli, therefore, Sukti fashioned a cleaning device to squirt hot water containing a mixture of potash and cassia oil over one’s whole body. His name for the wonderful machine was the “odd soup.” 

 

The toady Rumpi took the device to Selki’s ziggurat and left it there with full instructions on how to use it. Now Tvetni could not stop complaining that what with the hunting, and the oppressing, and the thieving, Selki was stinking all the time. Indeed, he always smelled as if he’d just been dug up from the grave. So, he welcomed the unknown present warmly, immediately took off his tunic, his laurel wreath, and his sandals, and jumped in. But unbeknownst to him, Sukti had arranged for the thingumyjig to heat the cleaning fluid so much that Selki would leap high into the air, and out of his skin. Then, with him halfway between the ground and the heavens, stark naked and covered in soap, poisoned razor-wire would shoot out and entwine him, tearing him to pieces. According to the wisdom of the Dladli, that was the only way of killing him stone dead. And that’s what happened, with horrid Rumpi hovering there to collect the bloody chunks of flesh and spirit them off when he heard the screams.

 

Cackling with laughter, Sukti himself scattered the lumps of bone and gristle, muscle and bone over the whole face of the Nw Yrth, in the rivers, on top of the mountains, at the bottom of the sea, amongst the forests, and in the valleys, so that no-one would be able to find them to re-create his most hated enemy. And although he got battered and bruised all over, he enjoyed his work enormously. But he could not travel over the limestone mountains by the swift river to reach the middle of the pine forest of Nogrut at the northern end of the Southern Continent. And that was because Elni and the legions of Warrior-women were guarding the sacred place. Before he walked away, however, the hessian sack containing bloody chunks of Selki’s body over his shoulder, he succeeded in snatching a fistful of the plant with feathery foliage called Spikni. And as soon as it touched his skin, all his wounds healed. 

 

So sorrowful was Tvetni because of this outrage against her companion, and especially so because she knew she was about to bring their innocent and defenceless child into the cruel and predatory world very soon. But she also realized that if she were to depart from the field of rushes to go and help Selki, she would need a nurse to look after the young whelp for her, as she ranged over the Nw Yrth trying to find her mate and heal him. So, with the support of the other Sunri, she brought a woman from some Other World, and thereupon gave birth to a son, Blardi, who was like a man-dog, and the most beautiful person on the whole Nw Yrth. 

 

The woman agreed to look after him while Tvetni was away, and defend him from the ceaseless attacks by Rumpi until the lad reached the age of sixteen. And that’s what she did very successfully winning praise and renown before returning to her own world to bear a son in due course although she was a maiden. She took myriad secrets about agriculture back with her, and the name Blardi too, and that’s why versions of it are so common in lands by the Ice Forests on her planet today. The lad was most brilliant entity, and the fairest of countenance, ever to be seen on the face of the Nw Yrth, and he had sky-blue eyes, and long, blond hair. But whilst he was strong and very intelligent, he was stubborn, and incredibly unruly too, and cruel on occasions. It was he who created for the Sunri from the primal slime in the Bottomless Pit the race of terrifying nihilālēs, as living weapons to kill, and tear, and destroy.

 

Tvetni travelled from pillar to post, searching high and low, and asking everyone and everything whether they knew where Selki had disappeared, but everywhere she got the same answer, “We do not know where the Lord is.” But despite her anguish, she remembered also her little boy, and as she went around, she said to those she spoke to, “Thank you very much, kindly stranger! But can I ask one other little favour before I go on my way? Will you promise not to harm my son, the most beautiful person in all the Nw Yrth, if you would be so kind?” 

 

And everyone agreed straight away, in his own particular fashion. There she was then, trekking over the whole face of the planet from the south pole to the northern swamp. Although no-one could say where Selki was, as she searched, she came across to tiny chunks of his body that called to her from the valleys, amongst the forests, at the bottom of the sea, on top of the mountains, and in the rivers. She became more anxious every time she discovered another chunk, and whilst everyone promised they would not harm Blardi, nevertheless Tvetni despaired of being able to collect every piece of his father’s body. 

 

When Tvetni reached the far north of the Southern Continent, Elni, Skilled Leader of the Warrior-women told her that they had turned Sukti away, and she did not penetrate the sacred pine-forest either. And so, one plant did not agree that it wouldn’t harm Blardi. And that was the one called Spikni which is so smooth, and as aromatic as fresh hay, and grows wild in the thick forest amongst the grassland defended by enormous mountains of limestone. And then Tvetni became more disheartened than ever when she imagined Selki’s shredded body, and thought she would never regain all the bits. It was Elni who spoke thus to her then, “Although we cannot help you in your anguish, remember this. The Sun sees everything and knows the name of everything. When he calls, everything answers. When he commands, everyone obeys. Follow the Sun therefore and perhaps you will find that which you seek.” Tvetni did not understand but went on her way following the Sun’s trail whilst playing her harp, and over the years, she visited every corner of the Nw Yrth. 

 

As Tvetni laboured up and down, over hill and dale, hither and thither, day after day, without complaining or grousing, she began to discern words in the twittering of the birds, in the breaking of the waves, in the whispering of the grass, and in all the sounds made by every thing under the Sun. Whilst this was happening, however, the Resplendent Sun was much too busy singing, and dancing, and laughing to pay attention to Tvetni eavesdropping, so charming was the sound of her harp. And there she was therefore, stealing the Sun’s words and weaving them all to form a song more magical than anything that had ever been heard before —

 

"... Dalatha, bravlu, klendru, eshempa; Silpistí, madrolu, bamlaru, zileví; Turikikihí, thirularop, bahuakah, veraza; Endilda, andíshis, lilivalis, kestala; Brubumbu, elentlova, kualuru, tithihenta; Anvisashé, kouroakrí, ankelrerek, shezesista; Vilizda, huiklé, vildarsí, delkurí.”

 

Then Tvetni waited her chance. At the time of the Full Moon during the seventh month, she climbed to the top of the highest mountain in the Nw Yrth, and began to sing the song stolen from the Sun. Truly the words were flowing without restraint from her blessed mouth so sweetly and powerfully as they were naming every thing existing on the face of the Nw Yrth, and in the oceans and the sky also, and declaring its purpose and its fate. But they had already begun to change before they left her lips — 

 

“... Anthrathlu, hnaramru, hritharu, izalvu; Shehnethzí, hnirthlirí, hnanrelí, jelemí; Unthvlethla, thlelulba, mlavahva, hneleja; Inthnethré, andjendjé, rerehé, vishthavné; Mlarmuhlnu, irthlurlvu, havaru, thíhavu; Hvalashé, hvulahlé, avlivé, zethlizvlé; Hlervezthlo, vuhuhvo, hathraljo, thihrulo.”

 

And they were able to hold or let go, depending on the true desire of the one who was chanting them. For sixteen years Tvetni had been wandering around seeking Selki. That night, of course, she wanted more than anything else to have him back, and as she sang, all the pieces of his flesh collected together to re-form his body in front of her. 

 

Then Tvetni was beside herself with joy, but her happiness was short-lived, because the sallow form just hung there jiggling in the tickling, moist air, without pronouncing a word, mocking her like a rough block of slimy clay as dead as a door-nail. Tvetni didn’t know what to do but cry, and pluck the strings of her harp, and sing, but now it was a most sad song. “What would I now do to get him back?” asked she, answering herself, “Indeed, I would do anything, even give my own life for his!” So powerful was the melody that some essence of Tvetni’s companion heard it from the third world, and there was the horrific, sweaty effigy dropping tear after tear on the mountain’s barren soil, causing it to sprout. But once again, the words were different— 

 

“…Thalasa, fefa, hetha, furulu; Size, nilara, narala, sifi; Thurithe, thiropu, pahaha, pilisapa; Ethitha, athisa, lila, lenithe; Porupunu, eletha, uala, thiaha; Afirase, hourouhu, filife, sesiha; Filisitha, huiha, fathaleri, thehelo.”

 

With that, Tvetni was so greatly astonished that she swooned, falling down as her essence left her body and followed the tears’ path towards the third world. And there Tvetni’s spirit discovered her mate’s soul, and the two embraced, intertwining, before rising together very slowly towards the top of the highest mountain once again. When they alighted there, each of the two reconnected with the correct body, and Tvetni’s companion was whole, and uninjured, and strong, and vigorous once again. The tears, however, escaped, continuing to descend through the layers of the Underworld, burning their mournful way down, and at last they reached they first blue world. There they collected in a large hole to form a deep lake, its surface perfectly still like a pool of quicksilver, where one could see everything happening in the four worlds, and beyond if one so desired. And then back on the Nw Yrth the lovers lounged in each other’s arms for a long time, before kissing tenderly once. 

 

And that second there were loud peals of laughter troubling the hot air scented with ozone, as an enormous flash of lightning tore the heavens leaving a violet glow everywhere. Because Tvetni had been willing to sacrifice herself, and with the Sun’s magic so strong, she had been able to drag the essence of her companion from the Underworld. But there is always a price to pay for every magical act, believe you me, be it cheaper or more expensive, as it upsets the great order of the cosmos to some degree, be it insignificantly or substantially. When the charm had come to an end, then, it was not Selki who stood opposite Tvetni, but Belzi the butcher with a bloody axe in his hand, as he had bested death thrice. 

 

Tvetni would be the most beguiling sorceress on the Nw Yrth therefore, from then on, and the Mother of All the Dead too. The echoes of her glorious song that was triumphant, and mournful, and joyous at the same time impressed themselves on the material of the All-World as they flowed through time and space, melting and breaking apart — 

 

“…Tha la sa fe fa he tha fu ru lu Si ze ni la ra na ra la si fi

Thu ri the thi ro pu pa ha ha pi li sa pa E thi tha a thi sa li la le ni the

Po ru pu nu e le tha u a la thi a ha A fi ra se ho u ro u hu fi li fe se si ha

Fi li si tha hu i ha fa tha le ri the he lo.”

 

Even then, discerning fragments of the original song would allow those who could recombine them and sing in harmony with the new hymn, or threnody, or tale, to cast very strong spells. But the words were so powerfully slippery that it was dangerous to give voice to them, as they would tend to escape from the wizard’s control, re-organizing themselves to cause stunning and cataclysmic results more often than not. But that was not all. As a result of Tvetni’s Descent, she who is Mistress of the Dead, at the time of the Full Moon in the seventh month of every year from then on, the gates of the third world would open, so that the spirits of the departed could wander unfettered amongst the living for a night, helping or hurting according to their wont. 

 

And so Blardi’s sixteenth birthday, when he would be accepted into the ranks of the Sunri, became a double celebration. That is when the son would come of age, and when the reborn father would return in glory. Sukti was as angry and frustrated as a volcano that had not been allowed to explode for millennia when he realized this, to say the least. He swore then that he would get revenge on the happy family once and for all. But he would have to act on his own initiative this time, as his today Rumpi had disappeared so suddenly off the face of the Nw Yrth after failing to get rid of the hateful child Blardi, who was being hailed as the spirit of the planet’s chaotic beauty. A week before the great party, Sukti flew to get advice from the Dladli on the Northern Continent. There were the unseen forms laughing madly at learning that he had taken a sprig of Spikni from the outskirts of the Warrior-women’s pine forest. The tricksters showed him how to fashion a dart from Spikni stems, and told him how to harden it and make it unstoppable using a very powerful charm called the Amsasi Ritual. 

 

Sukti hurried home as quick as he could therefore on the back of an enormous white eagle to plan the great work, which would lead to Blardi’s demise and break the heart of Tvetni and Belzi. And by doing that, and killing the only scion of the tribe, perhaps he would shatter the domination of the Sunri over most of the Nw Yrth also. That was his despicable and wicked plan. Of course, as we know, unfortunately at the time, only males could inherit power and reign over the tribe, and that caused considerable indignation to the girls Zuvti and Harti, who were strong, and intelligent, and headstrong. To speak plainly, they hated Blardi, the young upstart, so much, that they would do anything to get rid of him.

 

So, during the days before the great feast, Sukti fashioned three darts of Spikni stems, that plant that had not promised that it would never harm Blardi, and hardened them with the words of the Amsasi Ritual under the light of the Fickle Moon, so that they would be unstoppable. When he pronounced the words for the first time, his guts full of ice – “He-tleki, Mi-tleki; Etzi, Itzi; E’tsetpi U’yi; Mi-vrasi El-rui” – he released stupendous power into the All-World which would develop its own life, although no-one would say the words correctly again. Three darts were needed, needless to say, as Blardi had three fathers, in a manner of speaking, namely Azli the teacher, Selki the thief, and Belzi the butcher.

 

It was easy for Sukti to convince the two angry and sullen women to play a part in his awful plan, having beguiled them with his blandishments, and he gave one dart to Zuvti whose blond hair was a veil over half of her face, and one dart to Harti whose black hair was cut very short, whilst keeping the third for himself. And then Sukti transformed himself into a tentacled ball of ectoplasm, and then became a great fanged mollusc, and finally took the shape of a maiden called Dendri with an enormous shock of red hair. The day of the great festival, everyone assembled to witness Blardi being immersed in the enormous cauldron of green brass in the middle of the black stone amongst the ziggurats of the Sunri, a laurel crown on his charming but merciless head. 

 

And there were Dendri, Zuvti, and Harti standing at the vertices of an equilateral triangle on the circumference of the enormous stone, with an unstoppable dart hidden up the sleeve of each one. The seven other Sunri were forming a circle around the cauldron, with Blardi hanging in a harness above it, wearing a traditional tunic of white hessian with a green belt about his waist. The very second that Belzi commanded that the lad be let down into the black, thick, sticky liquid, the three assassins flung their darts simultaneously towards him with all their strength. Since the Spikni had not refused to harm Blardi, the darts had no choice, and under the influence of the Amsasi Ritual they were unstoppable indeed. And there was one piercing the lad through his right eye, another one through his heart, and the third through his left thigh. Sukti had arranged everything so it would appear that the hoist had broken releasing the deadly, sharp bits. And so Blardi, scion of the Sunri, and mundane star, died.

 

Immediately, the place was filled with a dread sound, like lions roaring, seas raging, wolves howling, and swords gobbling lives. It was as if the infernal commotion would persist for ever, and destroy the whole Nw Yrth, as it was too much for the world to bear. The sky went purple. The cauldron drained, bubbling sickeningly. The stone split with a deafening snap, creating an Ephemeral Rift between the Nw Yrth and the other worlds. Blardi’s corpse fell feet-first down the well-shaft following the cauldron. The fruitful soil turned to a wilderness of broken glass. The water in the moat around the settlement became pure liquor that would be a holy drink consecrated to lost Blardi later on. 

 

And there was everyone tumbling head over heels into the Ephemeral Rift that had opened so suddenly between the five worlds, and down and down went everyone into the abyss. When all the nobles of the Sunri tribe had gone through the screeching gap, it closed behind them like the jaws of a monstrous, bored reptile. It was Sukti who fell furthest, reaching the first world of the original ancestors. And there he was, shut up in an excruciating blue hive, below an underwater river, from where he had to watch every single thing that happened in the other worlds. Although he wasn’t there in person to interfere with the plans of the Sunri, he was able to wreak havoc, with considerable effort. After a while, he began to extend his psychic tentacles across time and space to do evil elsewhere, too. 

 

To the second world went the other Sunri, where they learned a very great deal, before managing to return to the Nw Yrth to continue their eternal war against the Dladli. And what about Blardi, the most good-looking lad, and one hardest to deal with who ever existed? He fell to the third world where he stayed, and no-one knows his fate, although maybe he ruled there in bliss of ever. Perhaps that would be a good bargain: the exchange of Blardi’s life for the lives of his three fathers, Azli, Selki, and Belzi. But it is said today by enlightened wizards that his familiar-spirits Pfenti, word, and Rzahsi, action, will come when the magician calls on the name of their holy master to defend him from Zuvti the fire-demoness, and Harti the ice-spirit.

 

During the extended exile of the Sunri, it happened that the Dladli came into mental contact with dreamers, shamans, artists, and mystics, on other planets across the All-World, and their revolutionary message was getting spread far and wide, although they didn’t care about that in the least. After the Sunri clawed their way back to the Nw Yrth, a task that was mighty difficult as the Ephemeral Rift had sealed itself behind them after their fall, they spent a considerable amount of their time fighting amongst themselves. When they weren’t doing that, the battle between the Dladli and the Sunri continued, and the Sunri were even more jealous, and angry, and spiteful when they saw the unintentional success of their mortal enemies. They began, therefore, to send secret agents to the other worlds, to pervert the influence of the Dladli, using technology based on the primal magic of the Underworld to create the coercive dragons that would bind and silence individuals, bridle anti-conformism, demand obedience, and govern society. And there they would feed on the live-force of the living, and send the souls of the dead to labour in the Bottomless Pit back on the Nw Yrth. 

 

In the first world of the original ancestors, Sukti was becoming stronger and stronger, and beginning to vex the Sunri. As a result, Lufsi travelled down to the Agonizing Blue Hive in the form of Azli the teacher, Selki the thief, and Belzi the butcher, to beg him, reason with him, and in the end command him and compel him to be their watchful eye, their incarcerated ambassador, and their ensnared legate. And although Sukti ranted and raved, so powerful was Lufsi in his three aspects that he could not but agree. Now, although Sukti had been cast down, he never gave up hindering the schemes of his former compatriots, traying to put the cat amongst the pigeons and upset the apple cart at every possible opportunity. But every time he would send his mental imps or his imaginary bogey-men out to hinder the campaigns of his hateful peers, the attempt would go wrong, and turn against him to help them instead of harming them in the end. Once, it happened that his unskilled meddling with the cosmic continuum opened a gate to another world called the Harsh Planet, giving free rein for the seven Sunri to change the course of its development completely and for ever. 

 

Terribly slowly, but nevertheless surely, Sukti, in the aspect of the Red Painter who could distort space and turn back time, and make dreams become substantial, collected acolytes, agents, and vassals across the All-World, with his mental powers and his promises of fame, fortune, and the fulfilling of every desire, as well as his threats of eternal torture. On some worlds they would appear like cowled monks, but like wily, smooth-tongued serpents on other planets, and they would take many alternative forms besides. At last, however, when the Red Sun was on the verge of exploding before deleting every morsel of life off the face of the Nw Yrth, it is Sukti who stepped into the breach as it were.

 

But it is sure he would not have done that had not Lufsi descended to the Excruciating Blue Hive at the bottom of the original ancestors’ first world, countless ages before, maybe, to bind Sukti with the strongest magic. And then, at the end of the next cosmic era, it would be Sukti’s constant tricks that would unite the Dladli and the Sunri to create a new race called the Tlevki, hurling them all through space towards a blue, green, and fruitful planet, and one ready to be despoiled, where they could feast jubilantly on the bodies, and minds, and spirits of the ignorant inhabitants for a considerable time. Despite that, naturally enough, it wasn’t possible for anyone to challenge the Great Order regarding change, and degeneration, and death for ever, and in the end, those trying to compel the All-World were tricked and overthrown too. After all, even the Red Sun, the Blue Moon, the Nw Yrth and the Misty Planets died after a terrifyingly long lifetime, and doubtless the Harsh Planet will perish in its turn also. Be that as it may, the Tlevki were punished appropriately for their presumption as if they were naughty children who had stolen fire and been burned, but only after they’d changed the course of history once again, using the skills they’d won on the Harsh Planet, but not in the way they’d imagined or intended. 

 

Perhaps it would not be far-fetched to venture the opinion that the pupils they trained were worse than the masters themselves. But then again, maybe that was a prize, for the Tlekvi at least, who were nothing but mud and sunshine to begin with. Although Sukti would not produce an heir, he would go on to use many names, wear many masks, and possess many personalities, appearing as an orphan, soldier, thief, doctor, artist, teacher, priest, and poet, amongst other things, and his influence was very extensive. And the name of that pitiful planet was the Eyrth, so far away, lost in the mists of time, which was transformed beyond all recognition by the Tlekvi, as the syllables of Tvetni’s song of transformation continued to permeate the All-World, changing all the time — 

 

“Li tha ru ha ho ha – si he ni sa a ra ze sa – la li tha the ra e – i lu a a pi fi a – e si pa la thu ni – ha tha se nu na thi – thi ru fa fa ra – si thi ro pa li fi – le la ri la fi fu – pu u thi pu ha – si le ro he tha fe hu – u po lo ri fi the sa – la le se ha tha tha – fe u the hu li…”

 

 

But that is another story entirely.

 

Well, there you are, then, we’ve reached the end of the tale, and there’s the fateful words for you, the final magical statement, “But that’s another story entirely.” Who’d have thought it, what with me squatting here trembling with fear? Of course, it’s not another story at all, that’s the terrible, plain truth, but real life, and we’re all in the middle of it! Oooh, how much I hate how things have gone since that cheeky little monkey they call the Son Foretold, and the cult-leader, the Skilled Leader, who used to be a graffiti artist or something, released the Tlevkimvi on our World. And of course, that’s the correct name, meaning ‘Deadly Snake.’ The Black Doctor and the Silver-Tongue understood that centuries ago, but Anathré Krosm·ethra (Andrea Großmann, that is) misinterpreted it as Telok-vovim, ‘The Fallen.’ It’s not my fault, they tricked me, those two devils, Elvan Baks·ethra and Stharafan Krosm·ethra (Elfan and Steffan, of course). There were loads of technological anarchists, life-hackers, and cyber-pirates lurking behind their encryption software, their unpleasant avatars, and their fake personalities who were helping them too, with their analytic algorithms, and their enormous and unimaginable databases.

 

Things began to happen slowly and unobtrusively enough, with some people growing tails, horns, fur, beaks, scales, hoofs, or wings. They didn’t behave bestially for the most part to start with, but soon the cross-breeds were forming gangs and making war on each other. And then society started to fragment as the hybrid beings organized themselves and decided to attack us the ‘un-re-configured’ under the command of the scarcely-mentionable Alternative Youth. They don’t change of course, but become stronger and stronger every day. Recently however things’ve gone from bad to worse. It’s not a country for old men now, well, not for human beings of any age. People are changing all the time, going over to the dark side. There are chimeras prancing and running about, and flying everywhere. Or flocking to the coast to go and live in the sea.

 

One of the worst things is that legions of flying apes’ve taken the place of the Patriotic People's Militia and the Armed Vicars. They patrol the streets, enforcing a curfew, looting, and setting on anyone stupid enough to venture out on his own without protecting himself appropriately with a flaming lash. The cities are very dangerous now for those who still smell human. And then again, there’s the winged snakes that slink like icy shadows through everyone’s constant nightmare, in the dead of night and in broad daylight, reading our minds, watching our sins, chastising, commanding, blaming, and punishing, with a thunderous voice like some ancient dragon from our human race-memory.

 

But there’s still hope, I think, believe you me. Not everything is pain, suffering, and loss. There’s some of us who’re withstanding the complete transformation of the World, somehow. We the rejected, the forgotten, the mongrels, the weaklings, the impure-bloods, that is, maybe. And as the Tlevkimvi materialized, the Unstoppable Force began to flow more quickly and violently that ever before. Well, fair play, this lazy teenager of a Planet is waking up at last, and starting to flex her muscles. As it happens, a considerable number of the foolish oppressors on the other side who’ve tried to absorb the power, have been blown away to who-knows-where by it, thank goodness. On the other hand, there are new members of our Guild, men, women, and children, appearing from nowhere, more and more often. Well, I mean that they choose to become members when they need our help to stop all the wishes, fears, and other thoughts from becoming real, and so on.

 

For once, all of us in the Guild (well, more or less) are cooperating to a great extent, remembering our vows to stop the World from going to rack and ruin dating back to the time of our founder Sorakados the Wizard {Rampant Drama}. I hope he’s proud of himself as he watches the faithful amongst us slaving with might and main to save the Eyrth, from his blue steel throne beyond the stars, the old rascal. Hmm, and talking of old rogues, perhaps Dai Procter’s there with him, having fled from all the dreadful and bloody commotion stirred up in the wake of his mad schemes, and his even more rash actions. Well, be that as it may, even from here, I can see the pockets of resistance sprouting up and developing in the great scrying-glass on the wall of Gertrude's hall of the living statues deep under the Manor. (How she made them, I'll never know, may the Weird Old Ones bless 'er! Maybe she used music, the language of those Three Beautiful and Terrible Goddesses, which always trumps speech in evoking emotions and achieving its ends without a single word, in the hands of a skilful practitioner at least, although one can't govern it very easily, more's the pity! Her haunting tunes and wild rhythms are like the singing of a river, or the clash of sword against sword, or the flow of blood, and they can tame demons of ice and fire, open doors, and create worlds, says Mamrick, even without magic.) Anyway, our net’s starting to spread over the World once again, as we grow stronger month on month.

 

When every additional trainee commits himself to our cause with body, mind, and soul, another tiny pure-black drop of living ambrosia appears in the green brass cauldron, like Lushfé’s tears that tempted Tefnuth down to the Underworld, or the original substance that created everything else. Where it come from, I can’t guess, some Other World the other side of the great void, I wouldn’t wonder. But one thing I’m sure of is that when the cauldron is overflowing we’ll drink the holy fluid and become like super-heroes in all those comics. Well, hope springs eternal, doesn’t it, I guess? In the meantime, maybe we’ll learn something from the Tlevkimvi too, through studying them at close quarters as they attack us relentlessly. And indeed, as we discipline our thoughts and combine our wills, some of us are succeeding to disappear from the sight of their all-seeing dragon for a while. If we can just imitate them to some degree, we’ll be able to break through the barrier and escape from this sphere of existence. But what’ll happen then, I don’t know.

 

Anyway, I’m going down to the cellar now to hide from the abominable chattersome beetles that’ve been laying waste to the land, devouring leaves and flesh alike. I can hear them swarming outside, gnashing their mandibles and hissing out war-chants so threateningly and deafeningly, but they won’t be able to penetrate in down there through the granite. But, Oh, good grief, gazing so intently at all those iridescent globules of juice pulsating and whirling in the cauldron does make my head spin, and my stomach turn. It’s as if I can hear voices praying in every language in the All-World at the same time. I’ll be having a large tot of the old Lethí Oil (extracted from the famous blue-stone to be found in the amber caves at the bottom of the Boiling Ocean), before settling down. We believe that it’s like Lushfé’s tears, and can do exactly what’s needed every time. That’s why Nebesh sent her servant Lotké to the Underworld to try and steal the priceless silver droplets from Swtakh of course. I hope I’ll fall straight asleep, and spend a night without a nightmare for a change, escaping from this teary vale for a blessed moment, but I wouldn’t bet on it. Here I am then, Hlothrig Faland·ashé, Fred Fantastic, Frederick Llwynlesg, signing out for now.

 

 

*             *             *             *             *             *             *             *

 

[*] This chapter is adapted from notes hand-written on manuscript paper and an audio recording found in the cellar of Challavas Manor. It has now appeared in “True Folk Tales from the Heart of the Continent,” by Pjetër Mamrick (collector), from a sound recording by Frederick Llwynlesg. — P.M.

 

 

Er gwaethaf yr holl beryglon, pryderon, a risgiau ymhlyg ym mhroses gwrthsafiad uniongyrchol ac anuniongyrchol rwy wedi bod yn sôn amdanyn nhw, dylen ni anelu hyd y gallwn ni at blannu hadau cyfrin a fydd yn tyfu’n dawel a heb sylw, wedyn yn dechrau herio syniadau derbyniedig, ac o’r diwedd achosi ffrwydrad a fydd yn trawsffurfio’r Byd trwy ddymchwel grymoedd gorthrymus y Byd a’r Betws. Fe fydd yn angenrheidiol i ni ddysgu bod yn eithriadol o hyblyg; fod i lawer o broblemau sawl ateb; taw dros dro ac amodol yw sawl gwirionedd; ac ein bod yn gorfod gweithio mor galed i ddehongli’r Byd yn foesegol cyn dechrau ei iacháu. Rhaid i ni roi’r gorau i gredu taw syniadau cyffredinol yn unig sy’n sanctaidd ac addoladwy, tra mae rhai penodol yn ddieflig ac yn haeddu eu difa. Mae gan gelfyddyd a cherddoriaeth bŵer eithriadol i ryddhau meddyliau a gadael i’r syniadau cymhlethaf ddod yn gaffaeladwy, ac o ganlyniad dihuno ymwybyddiaeth pobl a pheri iddynt feddwl a dechrau gwleidydda, gwrthsefyll, ac ymladd yn ôl. Fodd bynnag, gall canlyniadau’r ffurfiau hyn ar gyfathrebu fod yn fwy anrhagweladwy ac yn anos eu rheoli na chyda dulliau eraill – rhai ieithyddol, hynny yw – fel barddoniaeth feddyliaethol a swyngyfaredd ffaneronig. Felly, dylem ddewis yn ofalus os byddwn i gyflawni’r canlyniadau gorau a mwyaf pellgyrhaeddol yn y ffordd fwyaf effeithiol.

 

“Dihuno’r Cawr yn Cysgu”

Ms Sesiline Arian

 

 

Dyma ni, felly, wel, dyma fi, olyga i, Ffred eich storïwr gostyngedig. Sai’n gw’bod pwy dych chi, ble’r ydych, na hyd yn oed os bydd rhywun yno i glywed y darn ‘ma yn y pen draw, ond wi’n credu dylen i ddweud e’n uchel doed a ddelo. Wi’n teimlo taw nawr fydde amser da i rannu fe gyda chi, neu o leia’i gofnodi nes gall be bodau bynnag sy’n dal i fodoli mewn oesoedd i ddod gael hyd iddo. Na’th Veythra Marm·íku (Pjetër Mamrick) o Ilyria yn y Famwlad Aflonydd, Aelod Llawn o Urdd Cyfrinachau a ffrind da i fi, ei adrodd wrth Dá·hwyth Prok·ethra (Procter bach, Dai, ch’mod) a fi, pan o’n i’n dal yn gysylltiedig â’r Madws Mileinig ‘na a gweithio gyda’r cythraul ifanc sy di chwalu’r holl fyd erbyn hyn. (Man a man a mwnci melyn i fi ddefnyddio’r hen enwau hud yma i roi blas i chi ar sut ro’dd pethau’n arfer bod, er bod popeth wedi newid gymaint ers yr hen ddyddiau da.) Nes i lwyddo i ddianc o’r stad uffernol yn Aberdydd yn y pen draw pan na’th pawb ddechrau troi’n greaduriaid chwedlonol, a ffrwydro ar hyd ac ar draws. Ond ro’dd mor anodd achos bod yr hud mor gryf yno.

 

Ro’dd sawl un wedi bod yn bwrw swynion rhwymo, greda i, heb fwriadu neud, fwy na thebyg, ond yn llwyddiannus iawn serch ‘ny. Ro’dd rhaid i fi ddefnyddio’n holl nerth jyst i ddisylweddu a ‘nhrawsgludo’n hunan i Deml y Gogoniant Cuddiedig yn y lle cynta, a dyna le sy’n perthyn i ninnau yn yr Urdd fyd. Wedyn, ro’n i’n cadw o’r golwg yno am sbel wrth i fi gael fy nerth yn ôl, cyn diweddaru’r swynion amddiffynnol hyd eitha ‘ngallu. Arbenigwr ar berlysiau, pils, tinturiau, ac elicsirau dw i, wrth gwrs, a dyna pam mae’r siantio a dawnsio o gwmpas mor chwithig ac anodd i fi. Nes i symud nesa i Faenordy Challavas, cartre i ‘nheulu’r Llwynlesgiaid, ble mae’r tân yn sibrwd cyfrinachau yn yr hen iaith Yrtheg, ac am ganrifoedd, defodau cyfrin wedi digwydd ganol nos bob hydref dan lewyrch afiach y Lloer Wacsaw, ar Wylnos y Teisennau Maidd (y Gwendid-ddydd yn agosaf at Nos y Meirw). (Dwn i’m pam: nage hen deulu o Ddewiniaid enwog mo ni'n hunain, wedi’r cwbl. Ond ma’r lle’n llawn egni tywyll, yn ôl Gertrude, ac  ma’na rywrai neu’i gilydd wastad wedi bod yn dod yma ar gyfnodau penodol i chwarae bili-ffŵl fel o’n i’n weud. Dw i’n chredu hi i ryw raddau ‘fyd, ar ôl fy mhrofiadau yma gyda Dai.) Dyna ble dw i nawr, a sai’n gallu gadael ar hyn o bryd. Ond sai’n siŵr ydw i i fod i aros a gwarchod y ffont ar ffurf crochan pres gwyrdd, neu neidio i mewn gan obeithio bydda i’n diflannu.

 

Wedi’r cwbl, na’th Dai Procter lwyddo i ffoi’n syth ar ôl y seremoni dderbyn ddiwetha, wedi iddo gipio’r fodrwy eithriadol ‘na o’i chuddfan (wel dyna’r stori, ta be, yr hen leidr drewllyd!). Dim ond gyda chryn dipyn o help gen i wrth gwrs, a gweud y lleia. Eto i gyd, ga’th e’i eni i un o’r teuluoedd hudol mawr, tra do’n i ond yn grwt mwythlyd o deulu goludog, ar y dechrau o leia. Fe ddyle Procter fod wedi bod yn gallu reidio’r dymestl yn rhwyd lly, wedi’r cyfan, fe na’th ei chychwyn, a fi oedd ei law dde am sbel. Wrth gwrs doedd fawr o ddewis da fi, wedi i fi ymwadu â busnes y teulu’n fachgen, gan ddatgan bydde’n well da fi fod yn farw mewn ffos na bod yn rhan o’r cynllwyn paternalistig mochaidd i ormesu’r dosbarth gweithiol. Ond ro’n i wedi ‘narbwyllo’n hunan taw archwilio cyfrinachau’r Hen Feistri o’dd y ffordd i ddatrys holl broblemau’r Byd. A dyna o’n i’n dilyn ôl traed ‘y nghyndad Ioan aeth bant i Galon y Cyfandir i fod yn fynach, fydde’n hala’i holl amser yn neud arbrofion esoterig, cyfathrebu gyda bodau annynol a sgriblan swynion. Ac felly fe es i (er nad mor bell â'r Cyfandir, mewn gwirionedd), gan adael Gertrude druan yn ôl i'w ffawd!

 

A, wi’n cofio sut o’n ni’n arfer brwydro pan o’n ni’n ifancach, David a fi, ac yntau’n llawn o’r holl syniadau angerddol am newid y Byd trwy gryfder ewyllys a nerth corfforol, a finnau ond eisiau aros yn y labordy i chwarae gyda’n ryseitiau, eneiniau, elicsirau, injans a dyfeisiadau. Ro’n i’n breuddwydio bydden nhw’n gwella iechyd a lles pobl, dwysáu’u synhwyrau, eu neud nhw’n gryfach a mwy deallus, gadael iddyn nhw fwynhau rhagor o amser hamdden, a’u helpu nhw i ddianc rhag eu bywydau annifyr fel caethweision a byw rhai gwell. Ond i’r gwrthwyneb, fe nethon nhw ddwyn ‘yn meddyliau pan do’n i’m yn canolbwyntio, i’w gwyrdroi nhw a’u defnyddio nhw i’w dibenion anfad eu hunain heb yn wybod i fi, bryd ‘ny ta be. O, sut gallen i fod wedi bod mor dwp? Dyna brofi yn unig sut gall cynlluniau gorau a mwya manwl dyn fynd ar gam mor hawdd. Ddim taw rhyw fath o athrylith o’n i, ond ro’n i’n dychmygu mod i’n chwarae’n rhan mewn cynllun mwy, falle.

 

Ond ro’dd yr hen Ddewin Ifanca’n ffrind da i fi dros y blynyddoedd a bod yn onest, gan iddo adael llonydd i fi pan taw dyna be o’n i eisiau, a rhoi cartre i fi droeon eraill heb ofyn gormod o gwestiynau. Roedd e fel brawd i fi, mewn ffordd, un a gadwe lygad barcut ar be o’n i’n neud a be o’dd da fi ar y gweill. Erbyn meddwl bellach, falle’i fod â llygad ar ‘yn etifeddiaeth. Ond na fydden i’n bodloni i’w gynlluniau dros ben llestri yn nes ymlaen, na’i annog a chefnogi pan na’th e roi’i bryd ar gymryd yr Urdd drosodd mor ddidostur. O, ro’dd rhaid i fi redeg bant bryd hynny, fedren i’m bod wedi neud unrhyw les wrth aros yno ta be, a ro’n i eisiau teithio o gwmpas y Byd mor fawr, gan gasglu samplau. A dyna nes i. Ond o leia nes i ddarganfod ffyngau streipiog goleuol, ffau glas seicedelig, madfallod canibalaidd gwenwynig, llau tân pigog, cynrhon moch gwrychog, brithyllod pluog llinorog, a sudd amlffurf. Fe ddes i ‘nôl pan o’dd yr holl ffwdan wedi ymdawelu.

 

Sai’n gallu rhoi’r gorau i gredu bod yr holl sefyllfa’n rhyw fath o benyd i fi, falle, am ‘y nhroseddau i gyd hyd yn hyn, neu gosb am ‘y ngwendidau cynhenid fyrdd, ond ma’ popeth mor aneglur, cyn belled i ffordd, a sai’n gallu meddwl yn syth. Fe allai fod yn brawf, ar y llaw arall, neu’n arbrawf, ond un i ganfod beth, weden i’m. Ww, ma’na ben tost arteithiol da fi, was! Ond dyna hen ddigon ar yr holl deimlo’n flin drosta’n hunan. Wi angen tynnu’r ewinedd o’r blew a chychwyn ar y stori, ‘te, ‘nghynulleidfa anweledig. Sori am y trosiad ‘na, sy mor anffodus dan yr amgylchiadau. Fel ro’n i’n gweud, sai’n gallu gadael y lle ‘to, a rhaid i fi neud rhywbeth wrth aros, lly fe fydda i’n recordio hi ar gyfrwng parhaol wrth ei darlledu i’r Holl Fyd ar yr un pryd. Un o’r chwedlau modern, newydd am y Nw Yrth ydy, o’r enw “Pam Ma' Pethau Fel y Ma'n Nhw.” Ddim un am eiriau mohona i, ddim mwya, ta be, ond dyna rywbeth yn galw arna i i weud ‘ngweud [*].

 

Ma’na ryw bŵer eithriadol mewn geiriau, meddan nhw, lly bydda i’n llefaru’n ofalus, gan obeithio ar ‘ngwaetha fe ddaw rhyw les o neud. Falle na i gonsurio rhyw ysbryd cymwynasgar i ‘nysgu a ‘nhywys, ac wedyn dod i ddeall rhywbeth ychwanegol o bwys am y llanast tra brwnt ‘ma sy’n amlyncu’r Ddaear gron fel mewn un o’r ych a fideos gwaetha. Wel, does w’bod yn y Byd, wi’n byw mewn gobaith. Ond ta be, fe fydda i’n mwynhau dweud yr hanes o leia. Bydd yn cadw’n meddwl rhag canolbwyntio ar ‘mhroblemau’n hunan ormod fyd. Lly, bant â ni!

 

Ar y cychwyn cyntaf, yn rhywle neu’i gilydd y tu draw i’r llen, ro’dd yna ddwy ardal a rhyngddyn nhw ofod gwag. Ro’dd y naill le’n dywyll, ac oer, a llawn iâ, tra o’dd y llall yn olau, a phoeth, a llawn tân. Brwydrai’r tafodau fflamllyd a’r chwaon rhewllyd yn y gofod am oesoedd di-rif ond ni all yr un grym na’r llall ennill. Fodd bynnag, drwy’u cyd-adweithio cyson, yn y pen draw, fe greodd y gwres a’r oerni ryw fath o niwl myglyd, rhyfedd a dewychai’n ara ara’n ddiferion fyrdd o hylif du, trwchus, do’dd yn cynnwys na dŵr na thân. Dyma o’dd y sylwedd ymwybodol cyntaf yn yr Holl Fyd, ac ro’dd mor gynhyrfus o gael i greu o ddim, fel petai mewn perlewyg, iddo ffrwydro i lenwi’r ddwy wlad. Yn yr anial tanllyd, ffurfiodd y diferynnau floc enfawr o glai afluniaidd, ac yn y tir orest, rhewllyd, hedfanen nhw o gwmpas gan newid eu lliw, a’u siâp, a’u maint drwy’r amser.

 

O’r diwedd, symudodd y gwreichion gorffwyll yn haid trwy’r gofod a glanio ar y clai cysglyd a’u llyncai, gan dyfu’n fwyfwy. A dyna lle’r o’dd y bloc yn chwysu a chrynu cyn ymrannu’n ddau dalp cnodiog mewn daeargryn a ryddhaodd hefyd bedair afon o wlybwr llaethog i feithrin y talpiau byw o fater. Ac wrth iddyn nhw orwedd yno’n pendwmpian, ro’n nhw’n cystadlu i amsugno meintiau gwahanol o’r ambrosia gwyn, gan dyfu a newid o ganlyniad. Ar ôl amser maith, ro’n nhw wedi datblygu i fod yn ddau gorff wybrennol. Yr un fwyaf a phoethaf o’dd yr Haul, yr un lleiaf ac oeraf o’dd y Lleuad. Ro’dd yr Haul yn llawn tân ac ager, ac yn fyrbwyll a rhyfelgar, tra o’dd y Lleuad yn graff a chyfrwys ac yn llawn eira a llwch.

 

Ro’dd y Lleuad, o’dd bryd hynny’n ymddangos fel sarff â phen tarw, yn derbyn rheolau amser, ac eisiau mwynhau taith bodolaeth, tra o’dd yr Haul ar ffurf gwalch ac arno ben llew yn gwrthwynebu newid a braenu, a bob tro ro’dd arno angen rhuthro tuag at ei gyrchfan. Ro’dd y Lleuad yn sylweddoli bod byw mewn byd wedi’i reoli gan amser yn golygu colled a dolur yn ogystal â llawenydd. Fe ddewisodd hi’n wirfoddol ddilyn llwybr coch, troellog yr arwr yn llawn drain ac anhawster. Ar y llaw arall, ro’dd yr Haul yn mynnu brasgamu ar hyd y ffordd ddu sy’n syth a rwydd tuag at lwyddiant a bri. Hyd yn oed yn ystod cyfnos yr Holl Fyd, fe fyddai’n rhedeg yn wyllt gyda’r helfa fawr, gan weiddi, “Gwneler fy ewyllys, megis uchod, felly isod hefyd!”

 

Ro’dd yr Haul a’r Lleuad yn nerthol iawn, ond nage duwdodau o’n nhw. Yn hytrach ro’n nhw’n rymoedd natur, a fedren nhw ddim creu pethau’n uniongyrchol. Felly dyna lle’r o’dd y ddau’n datgan ag un llais, “Gwae fi, fydd yn gallu lladd, a gwylio pethau’n marw, ond na all gynhyrchu dim byd o’m pen a’m pastwn fy hun!” Cyn i’r Yrth ddod i fod ar ffurf planed gorfforol, ro’n nhw yno’n synfyfyrio ers tro byd ar eu pennau’u hunain ond yn ofer. Ro’dd llawer o syniadau’n hedfan o gwmpas ar hap ym meddwl yr Haul a'r Lleuad ynghylch sut y dylai pethau fod. Ro’dd y Lleuad yn deall byddai cylchoedd natur yn golygu newid a loes, gan feddwl, “Peth gwahanol fyddi di pan ddoi di allan o’r storm, o’th gymharu i’r hyn o’t ti pan est ti i mewn.”

 

I’r gwrthwyneb do’dd yr Haul ond yn poeni am ei ran yn y machlud coch, na fyddai’n ddinistr llwyr ond yn ddiwedd ar bethau fel yr o’n nhw y pryd hynny, gan alaru, “Yr wyf yn dymuno canu fel aderyn, heb boeni am bwy sydd yn gwrando nac am yr hyn y maent yn ei feddwl.” Fe ddechreuodd pethau ddigwydd pan grwydrodd rhai o’r meddyliau bant a chwrdd yn y gofod. Dyna o’dd cychwyn carped mawr gwybodaeth, yn debyg i rwyd emog, ac ynddi gorweddai’r Lleuad a’r Haul fel dau freuddwydiwr, y naill yn creu’r llall.

 

Yn gyntaf, o achos eu dychmygion, ro’dd yna wynt deallus yn chwythu uwchben y cefnfor cysefin o’dd wedi ymddangos yng nghanol y gofod gan godi tarth llachar a greodd y pedwar Isfyd o’dd yn ansylweddol, a chyfnewidiol, a llawn cysgodion. Fe ddihunodd llais y gwynt liaws o fodau glân a agorodd eu llygaid a gweld y cread am y tro cyntaf fel cae o flodau anhygoel yn lledu’u petalau. Ro’dd y byd cyntaf yn ynys fach, dywyll, a chyfyng yng nghanol pedwar môr, lle ro’dd y bodau glân yn byw yn ogystal â phobl y tarth, y werin wirion, a’r twyllwr mawr (dyma o’dd y cyndadau cysefin). Yno ro’dd popeth yn wahanol arlliwiau o las. O blith llwyth y werin wirion y tad cyntaf yn byw yn y gogledd a’r fam gyntaf yn byw yn y gorllewin gaeth hyd i’w gilydd trwy chwifio ffaglau a cherdded nes iddyn nhw gwrdd yng nghanol y byd cyntaf.

 

Wedyn fe balon nhw dwll yn yr awyr yn nwyrain y byd cyntaf, ac arwain pawb trwyddo. Dyna lle ro’n nhw felly yn yr ail fyd, o’dd hefyd yn gaeedig a heb olau. ac yn gartref i seirff gwyrddlas, llathraidd, ac angenfilod llwydlas, blewog, Ro’dd popeth yno’n goch, a melyn, a gwyrdd. Yno, naeth y cyndadau cysefin dramgwyddo yn erbyn pennaeth y seirff, a’u halltudiodd nhw o’r ail fyd. Ond pan naeth y tad cyntaf lunio ysgol o fuchudd, fe allen nhw ddianc trwy dwll yn yr awyr yn ne’r ail fyd. Ro’dd y trydydd byd helaeth yn cynnwys sawl afon yn croesi'i gilydd, a mynyddoedd sanctaidd, ac yno ro’dd llwyth croesawgar y bwystfilod tân yn byw. Yno, du, a gwyn, a llwyd o’dd y prif liwiau, os byddwn ni’n gallu galw’r rhain yn lliwiau, ac ro’dd y lle i gyd yn fôr o oleuni uwchfioled, a achosai lewyrch rhyfedd ym mhob man.

 

Ond allai’r twyllwr mawr ddim peidio herwgipio plant arglwydd y bwystfilod tân. Ac o ganlyniad, fe achosodd y brenin ddilyw, ac felly ro’dd yn rhaid i’r cyndadau cysefin ffoi. A dyna sut y cyrhaeddon nhw’r pedwerydd byd, ble ro’dd llwyth o fwystfilod dŵr yn byw yn y moroedd enfawr dan olau’r Haul a’r Lleuad. Ro’dd popeth yn amryliw, a llachar, a thwym yno. Ac yno ro’dd y cyndadau cysefin yn ffynnu, wrth reoli bywyd trwy gymorth y tymhorau, a chyfathrebu â’r Haul a’r Lleuad ar ben y mynyddoedd sanctaidd ro’n nhw wedi’u hail-greu gyda phridd o’r ail fyd.

 

Ac yno yn y pedwerydd byd, ro’dd y fam gyntaf a’r tad cyntaf yn cael gefeilliaid a ddaeth yn arwyr mawr, a lladd y bwystfilod dŵr. Wedyn fe deithion nhw’r holl ffordd drwy’r moroedd i begwn y de. Pan gyrhaeddon nhw yno, naeth y gwynt o hwyliau’u cwch gusanu darn mawr o iâ hallt gan achosi iddo doddi, a rhyddhau dwy goeden, a ddatblygodd i fod yn angyles dal falch a chythraul byr, clyfar. Fe briododd y rhain a chael pump o blant hudol o’dd meistri’r pum elfen, sef awyr, dŵr, metel, pridd, a thân. Fe laddodd y plant ‘ma bawb yn llwyth y werin wirion, gan ddefnyddio’u cyrff i lunio ffurf gorfforol i’r Yrth a’r Nefoedd, a meddwl fe fydden nhw’n rheoli’r pumed byd, yr Yrth o’u castell godidog ond rhwysgfawr. Y pryd hwnnw, ro’dd y tir i gyd ar wyneb yr Yrth yn un cyfandir enfawr crwn wedi’i amgylchu gan y Cefnfor Allanol Hallt. Yng nghanol y cyfandir ro’dd y Môr Bach Mewnol yn llawn o ddŵr croyw, ac yn ei ganol, ro’dd ynys ble ro’dd maes brwyn. Yng nghanol union yr ynys hon ro’dd cadarnle pum meistr yr Yrth.

 

Yna, wrth i’r pump ymhyfrydu yn eu gwaith o wneud, a defnyddio, a thrawsffurfio, o’dd mor ddinistriol ond mor greadigol ar yr un pryd, naeth yr hen gastiwr ymddangos yn ddisymwth i daro cytundeb gyda nhw ar gyngwystl. “Wele!” ebe fe, “Fe fyddaf yn taflu’r garreg hon i’r ffynhonnell yng nghalon eich uchelgaer. Os bydd hi’n disgyn i’r gwaelod, addawaf mai yn ôl i fyw yn y trydydd byd yr âi pawb fydd farw yma o hyn ymlaen.” Ond chwerthin am ei ben yntau naeth y pum meistr, wrth iddo ollwng y garreg yn y pydew. A dyna lle’r o’dd y cerigyn yn suddo’n ddyfnach ddyfnach, wrth i’r pum meistr grechwenu’n uwch uwch. Faint o amser aeth heibio wrth iddyn nhw sefyll yno’n disgwyl? Fydd neb byth yn gwybod i sicrwydd. Wrth gwrs fe gyrhaeddodd y cerigyn y gwaelod maes o law, gydag unig blop tawel. A chyda hynny, gaeth y pum meistr eu sugno i lawr y ffynhonnell, yn dilyn trywydd y garreg, gan adael y lle’n wag ar wahân i’r twyllwr mawr, yn ogystal â’r bodau glân a phobl y tarth o’dd wedi bod yn gwylio hyn oll mewn tawelwch llwyr.

 

Pan dynnodd yr hen gastiwr y mwgwd oddi am ei wyneb, a’r clogyn oddi ar ei gefn, ro’dd i’w weld yn debyg i ryw anghenfil enbyd gyda chorff fel llew, coesau fel dyn, llygaid fel gwdihŵ, rheiddiau fel hydd, a chynffon fel cath. Ond er gwaethaf ei wedd, yr Haul o’dd y twyllwr mawr yn wir. Fe ymatebodd y ddau lwyth yn wahanol i’w gilydd, fodd bynnag. Tra o’dd pobl y tarth yn ebychu, a gweiddi, a bwldagu’n syn, ro’dd y bodau glân yn canu clod yr Haul Disglair. A dyna pam gadawyd i’r bodau glân esgyn i’r nefoedd ble daethon nhw’n sêr, tra gaeth pobl y tarth eu taflu mas i’r gofod. Ac yno fe dendiai’r Lleuad Oriog arnyn nhw, fel taw yn y pen draw y tyfen nhw i fod yn blanedau newydd. Yn wahanol i’r Haul a’r Lleuad, felly, do’dd yr Yrth ddim yno yn y cychwyn cyntaf, ac ma’n cynnwys llawer o dŵr, a halen, a phridd, a haearn, ac yn ymddwyn fel plentyn eofn, gan chwarae, a chanu, a phigo’i thrwyn, a gweiddi, a thorri gwynt.

 

Nawr, ro’dd yr Haul a’r Lleuad bob tro’n ymryson â’i gilydd. Fe fyddai’r Haul yn honni taw meistr yr Holl Fyd o’dd e, a’r Lleuad yn dweud ei bod hithau wedi’i chreu’i hun. Er gwaethaf ei nerth eithriadol e, dyna o’dd gosodiad a bryfociai’r Haul yn enbyd, ac felly galwodd ar y Lleuad i ymddangos a’i herio hithau, gan ddweud, “Gadewch inni weld pwy all wneuthur y peth gorau!” Wedyn, ymrithiodd yr Haul a’r Lleuad ar yr Yrth ar ffurf dyn hysbys a gwraig fawr yn sefyll ar lân y Môr Bach Mewnol. A dyna lle’r o’dd yr hen ŵr yn dawnsio yn nyfroedd y môr wrth i’r tonnau ymffurfio’n ysbrydion gloyw a disglair a wibiai ym mhobman. Ond ar ôl hynny, fe atebodd y fenyw deg trwy brancio ymhlith y tywod, a ddechreuai dyfu’n blanhigion rhyfeddol o ddeniadol, o bob math, a maint, a lliw. Ro’n nhw’n ddirfawr a chryf iawn, ac yn gallu symud o gwmpas, ond dim ond yn araf iawn.

 

Wedyn naeth y dyn crebachlyd orchymyn, “Boed i’r creadigaethau siarad!” Ar hynny, dechreuodd ysbrydion yr awyr ganu, a bloeddio, ac adrodd gan ddweud, “Yr Haul yw arglwydd popeth.” Ro’dd y Lleuad yn gyndyn o wneud yr un peth, gan ateb, “Pam dylwn i ufuddhau i ti, frawd? Fe gaethon ni’n creu ar yr un pryd. Ddim trech na fi wyt ti, er dy fod ti gymaint yn fwy, ac yn fwy nerthol o lawer” Ond pan glywodd hi’r ysbrydion yn chwerthin am ei phen, fe geisiodd beri i’w ffrwythau a’i llysiau sôn wrthi, gan eu cosi, a chrefu arnyn nhw, a’u ceryddu. Er gwaethaf pob ymdrech, sut bynnag, dim ond sisial, a myngial, a phiffian a wnâi’r planhigion, wrth chwifio’u canghennau a’u coesynnau’n wan. Ac felly fe godwyd cywilydd ar y Lleuad, ond fyddai’r Haul ddim yn rhoi’r gorau i gystadlu eto.

 

A dyna lle’r o’dd yr hen gono’n dweud, “Gwnewch chi gwt ichi’ch hun, a chewch i mewn gyda’ch creaduriaid pitw. Wedyn fe fyddaf yn ei losgi fe’n ulw. Os byddwch chi’n goroesi, fe fyddaf yn moesymgrymu ger eich bron chi, gan ddatgan i chwychwi eich creu’ch hun!” Er ei bod hi’n arswydo am beth bynnag fyddai’n digwydd, dywedodd y wraig hardd, “Chaiff neb fyw’r bywyd ma’n ei ddewis. Man a man i fi fynd i ‘nhranc fel arwr, gan ennill bywyd tragwyddol ym meddwl yr Holl Fyd.” Ar y gair, aeth hithau i mewn i’r bwthyn dros dro wedi’i wneud o’u haelodau gan y llystyfiant, a gweddill y planhigion symudol gyda hi.

 

Ro’dd fel petai’r cwt yn fath o gocŵn gwyrdd wedi’i neud o ddeiliant irlas. Fe ddywedodd wrthi hi’i hun, “Dyw’m yn bosibl i ofn ddiflannu, all e’m mynd i unman. Ond bod yn ddewr yw gwybod be i’w neud, a’i neud e. ‘Lly i mewn i’r cwt â fi i newid sialens yn gyfle!” Nawr ro’dd popeth yn wyrdd a llawn sudd, ac felly fe gymerodd gryn amser i’r dyn doeth gynnau tân yn neunydd y lle. Tra o’dd yntau’n gweithio nerth deng ewin i ddinistrio’i chwaer, dyna lle’r o’dd y gwinwydd yn cynhyrchu plisg mawr crwn, wrth i wreiddiau cyhyrog y planhigion oll durio trwy’r pridd meddal a ymagorai o’u blaenau i ffurfio twnnel yn arwain dan y ddaear at ddiogelwch ar yr ynys yng nghanol y Môr Bach Mewnol.

 

Wrth i’r Lleuad a’r llystyfiant symudol gropian dianc felly, dyna lle’r o’dd yr Haul yn llwyddo i losgi’r cwt, ac yn llawenhau o glywed y masglau’n ffrwydro’n swnllyd, gan ddychmygu bod y ddraen yn ei ystlys yn trengi. Ond ro’dd y Lleuad yn saff, ymhell oddi ar y traeth, a phan aeth yr Haul i mewn i’r cwt nad o’dd ond murddun erbyn hynny, aeth e’n gacwn gwyllt o sylweddoli’i hystryw hi. Aeth yr Haul ati ac ymosod arni ar ffurf neidr, a llew, a rhaeadr, a thân, ond eisteddodd hithau o’i flaen e ar ffurf delwedd garreg yn darlunio siâp menyw enfawr feichiog. Ac wrth iddi gyrcydu yno’n adrodd, “Beth fu ddoe nad yw heddi; beth sy heddi na fydd ‘fory,” allai’r brawd ddim ei niweidio hi. Gan fod yn gas gan ysgrydion yr awyr glywed a gweld y cyrff nefol ffraeo cynddrwg, fe ddisgynnon nhw i ganol yr Yrth trwy dwnelau’r planhigion, gan doddi popeth o’u blaenau, a dyna sut daeth y pŵer eithriadol i fodoli yng nghalon y blaned heddi.

 

Ar ben hynny, mor chwyrn o’dd eu taith iddyn nhw hollti’r unig gyfandir yn ddau hanner ar wahân i’w gilydd yn llawn mynyddoedd a chymoedd, ac achosi i’r dŵr ffres yn y Môr Bach Mewnol gronni mewn llynnoedd a llifo mewn afonydd. Fe felltithiodd yr Haul y planhigion, a’u taenu nhw dros wyneb y blaned, gan ddweud na fydden nhw’n symud byth eto er na allai fe’i ddinistrio gwaith ei chwaer y Lleuad yn llwyr. Ac am iddi newid cymaint, y Nw Yrth o’dd enw’r blaned o hynny ymlaen. A dim ond cynyddu a wnâi’r ysbryd cystadlu rhwng mab a merch y gofod hefyd.

 

Ac felly, trwy’r brwydro di-ball rhwng y Lleuad Oriog a’r Haul Disglair fe ddaeth y ddau lwyth mawr i fyw ar y Nw Yrth, y naill o’r enw y Dladli ar y Cyfandir Gogleddol, a’r llall o’r enw y Sunri ar y Cyfandir Deheuol, fel dyn ni wedi clywed amdano yn y chwedl o’r enw Cân yr Haul. Ysgogwyr a chynhyrfwyr o’dd y Sunri gweithgar a difrifol, fyddai’n ymddangos fel swynwyr ffroenuchel a gorthrymus i hilion llai datblygedig. Ac fe fydden nhw’n dweud yn ddrwg am y Dladli, gan eu galw’n chwaraewyr gemau plentynnaidd, llabystiau gwladaidd gwirion, a gwastraffwyr amser ac adnoddau gwerthfawr, a honni taw dim ond segurwyr da i ddim o’n nhw.

 

Ynghylch y Dladli eu hun, dydyn ni’m yn gwybod llawer o gwbl, achos eu bod yn gyfrinachgar a dirgel, er gwaethaf eu nerth eithriadol. Felly, bydd gweddill yr hanes hwn yn ymwneud â’r Sunri, er bod y Dladli yn arfer dylanwad aruthrol arnyn nhw o’r tu hwnt i’r llenni. Digon dweud bod yn y pen draw, yr o’dd ar y naill lwyth angen y llall i oroesi, heb sôn am ffynnu. Ac yn yr un ffordd i’r Haul a’r Lleuad ddod o’r un sylwedd yn wreiddiol, er nad o’n nhw’n hoff iawn o addef y ffaith, ro’dd yn rhaid i’r ddau grŵp uno unwaith eto o’r diwedd.

 

Ymhlith y Sunri, ro’dd yna wyth pendefig, sef: y brawd a chwaer Lufsi yr heliwr a Tvetni y cerddor; y brawd a chwaer Nukti y ffermwr a Hepi y gof; y brodyr Orzi yr ysgolhaig ac Itsi y swynwr; a’r brawd a chwaer Sukti y ffŵl a Nezpi y morwr. A bod yn fanwl gywir, fe fyddai Nukti yn newid o fod yn ddyn i fod yn wraig bob yn ail flwyddyn am iddo syllu ar wyneb y Lleuad Las am yn rhy hir pan o’dd yn grwt. Do’dd y Sunri ddim yn bobl, na bwystfilod, nac ysbrydion chwaith, ond yn rhyw gyfuniad rhyfedd o’r tri pheth. Ro’dd Lufsi fel ceffyl dŵr, Tvetni fel aderyn llwch gwin, Orzi fel ci du fflamllyd, Nukti fel hwch albinaidd neu dwrch gwyn, Itsi fel afanc hedegog, Hepi fel caseg esgyrnog, Sukti fel draig driphen, a Nezpi fel llamhigyn y dŵr. Falle byddai’n deg dweud eu bod yn fodau hudol â phersonoliaethau’n debyg iawn i’r creaduriaid chwedlonol ‘na. Arweinydd y llwyth o’dd Lufsi yr heliwr, a daeth i fodoli mewn tair agwedd arall, sef fel Azli yr athro, Selki y lleidr, a Belzi y bwtsiwr.

 

“Lle i bawb, a phob un yn ei le,” o’dd arwyddair y Sunri. Ro’dd pob un ohonyn nhw’n falch iawn o’i gymeriad, a’i swydd, a’i safle cymdeithasol, heblaw am Sukti, o’dd eisiau prancio o gwmpas wrth neud y naill beth ar ôl y llall heb orffen yr un ohonyn nhw. Ro’dd y lleill yn dweud taw ffŵl o’dd Sukti chos taw yn eu tyb nhw yr ymddangosai fel petai fe’n gwrthod cymryd cyfrifoldeb dros yr un agwedd ar redeg y llwyth, na chydweithio gyda nhw i osod trefn ar y Nw Yrth. Mewn gwirionedd, ro’dd yn well gan Sukti deithio o gwmpas y blaned i ymweld â gwledydd anhysbys a darganfod cyfrinachau, tra o’dd pawb arall yn gweithio’n eithriadol o galed yn y famwlad ogoneddus. Fe ddywedai yntau taw cennad y Sunri i’r cenhedloedd dioddefus oedd e, a llysgennad llawnalluog ar grwydr, a’i fod yn dod â neges o ryddhad trwy ufudd-dod di-syfl, bodlonrwydd trwy ddisgyblaeth filwrol, a dealltwriaeth trwy ffydd ddall. Ond ar y slei bach, ro’dd Sukti yn ceisio cyflawni’i ddibenion dirgel ei hun, bid siŵr.

 

Ac yn wir, pan o’n nhw wedi ymsefydlu a thyfu’n ddigon cadarn, fe ddechreuodd y Sunri fynd o gwmpas gan hau hadau gwareiddiad a ddosbarthu bwyd, a nerth, a gwybodaeth. Fe roai Lufsi y bwa a saethau; Tvetni, ryfelganau a hwiangerddi; Nukti, yr aradr ac ŷd; Hepi, haearn a’r efail; Orzi, femrwn a glyffiau; Itsi, rifau a’r calendr; a Nezpi, fapiau a hwyliau. Dim ond chwilmantan, a gofyn cwestiynau, ac adeiladu dyfeisiau rhyfedd a wnâi Sukti. Ac yn wir, fe ddofai’r saith Sunri’r hilion cyntefig y daethon nhw ar eu traws, o’dd yn ganibaliaid anwaraidd yn ôl pob tebyg, ac a fyddai farw fel arfer yn ifanc iawn ar ôl bywyd truenus yn llawn ofn a phoen. Ond pan fyddai’r werin wedi derbyn eu hanrhegion, fe droai’r Sunri fel petai yn ddraig enfawr yn rhuo, “Gwnewch chi hyn,” a “Na wnewch chi hynny” dan gosb marwolaeth, neu waeth. A ble bynnag yr aen nhw, fe fydden nhw’n adeiladu dinasoedd ac ynddyn nhw slafweithdy, canolfannau cosbi a chyflyru, a thai ymostwng a deisyfu. Fe fydden nhw’n dal y werin leol yno, hanner ffordd rhwng peryglon cyffrous byd natur a gogoniant dychmygol y nefoedd, gan eu rhwymo gyda rheolau, deddfau, gorchmynion, crefyddau, rhwymedigaethau, dyletswyddau, a chyfrifon.

 

Ro’dd yn rhaid i’r Surni bob amser geisio llethu unigoliaeth fel byddai’r bobl yn chwarae rhan mân olwynion ym mheiriant cymdeithas. Ac fe ddysgen nhw’u taeogion i gofleidio’r gwerthoedd bydol o ddefnyddioldeb a chaffaelgarwch, yn lle’r rhai cysegredig, sef chwaraegarwch, gollwng, ac aberthu. Serch hynny, ddim gwir anrhegion gan blant yr Haul o’dd y rhai cyntaf, ond offerynnau i rwydo a gorthrechu’r rhai o’dd yn ceisio sadrwydd a diwedd ar boen. Sukti ymhlith y Sunri wrthododd ostwng yn ei arrau o flaen y delfrydau gormesol ‘ma, gan ddiodde’n enbyd yn y pen draw.

 

Fydd bynnag, fe fyddai draig y Sunri yn rhwymo pobl i hunaniaeth ac ofn fel na fydden nhw’n mwynhau’r arian, na’r pŵer, na’r moethau, na’r pleserau fyrdd a enillen, gan eu carcharu nhw yng nghanol aml system dra chymhleth a chydgysylltiedig, a rhyddhau drygioni i’r Nw Yrth. Hyd yn oed pan âi rhai rebeliaid i’r fforest ar hyd llwybrau anweledig, i chwilio am aur goleuni, fel cŵn ar y trywydd, a’i ddarganfod, fe fydden nhw’n dod ‘nôl i wareiddiad gan gario dim byd ond ulw siomedigaeth, os nad o’n nhw’n eithriadol gryf o ran corff ac enaid.

 

Yn y cyfamser, ro’dd y saith aelod gweithgar ond cwerylgar yn llwyth y Sunri, pob un ohonyn nhw heblaw am Sukti hynny yw, wedi meddiannu gwastadedd Mar-koza yng nghalon y Cyfandir Deheuol ac wedi’i drawsffurfio’n baradwys ffrwythlon â’u sgiliau eithriadol, ac adeiladu saith sigwrat yno i fyw ynddyn nhw wrth ddechrau rheoli a threfnu popeth o’u cwmpas nhw. Yng nghanol maes brwyn ymhlith y sigwratau rhowyd maen enfawr, gwastad ac ynddo ffynhonnell yn arwain yn ddwfn iawn i ddeunydd y Nw Yrth. Ac ro’dd y pydew ‘ma, ar ffurf crochan o bres gwyrdd bob amser yn llawn o hylif du, trwchus, a phan fyddai’r saith yn ei yfed, fe ddelen nhw’n dra chryf, a chlyfar ofnadw, a llawen iawn am sbel, nes i’r effeithiau bylu. Fel ma’n digwydd, achosai’r stwff ‘ma iddyn nhw fyw am flynyddoedd maith hefyd. Dyma o’dd y sefyllfa, felly. Dros y blynyddoedd, ro’dd y Sunri wedi dod i lywodraethu dros y Cyfandir Deheuol oll gyda chywirdeb milwrol a disgyblaeth ddiysgog, o’u pencadlys yn y sigwratau enfawr ymhlith maes brwyn.

 

Ro’dd y rhain yn llawn peiriannau gwyrthiol a drawsffurfiai’r egni cudd wedi’i gronni yng nghraidd y blaned yn wres, a golau, a symudiad, a sain. Gan eu bod yn credu taw’r Haul Disglair a roddai’r fath nerth a gallu iddyn nhw, fe o’dd eu duwdod, eu symbol, a’u gwarchodwr, tra taw’r Lleuad Oriog i’r gwrthwyneb o’dd yn amlwg y dwyllwraig, y gelyn, a chynrychiolydd popeth drwg ac i’w osgoi. Hyd yn oed yn fwy pendant o’dd y ffaith bod y Lloer Fradwrus yn gwenu ar y creaduriaid erchyll a hollol anhysbys ‘na’n craffu byw ar y cyfandir gogleddol mewn amgylchiadau anwaraidd a chyfwng iawn. Heb os nac oni bai, yn ôl y Sunri, y garfan arall haeddai gael eu dinistrio’n llwyr am eu bod wastad yn newid, a gwrthod arfer yr awdurdod priodol dros eu tiriogaeth helaeth, gwyllt. Wedi dweud hynny, fydden nhw byth yn ymosod ar wledydd y de, gan frwydro yn ôl dim ond pan fyddai rhaid iddyn nhw’u hamddiffyn eu hun mewn gwirionedd.

 

A bod yn berffaith onest, ma’n hollol wir taw dim ond eisiau cadw’r ddysgl yn wastad a wnâi’r Dladli o’dd yn arfer byw o luch i dafl gan hala’u hamser yn cyfeddach, gwledda a meddwi, chwarae chwaraeon di-drefn a danjerus, gwylio dramâu ffarsaidd a threisgar, a dawnsio’n ffyrnig drwy’r nos i fiwsig cyflym uchel, a ballu. Fe fydden nhw’n defnyddio’u hiaith gyfnewidiol fel teclyn i sbarduno cyfathrebu uniongyrchol o feddwl i feddwl, sythweld bosau astrus, a dyfalu’n gywir am bethau nad o’dd wedi digwydd eto. Yn hyn o beth ro’dd effeithiau iaith y Dladli yn debyg i dechnegau hudol wedi’u defnyddio mewn gwledydd eraill.

 

Er gwaetha hynny oll, y gwir yw taw brathu’r gaseg wen yn ei chynffon fyddai dweud taw casáu trefn, dyfalbarhad, ac ymroddiad a wnâi’r Dladli. Nhw a wyddai cystal â neb arall ar y Nw Yrth fod rheoleidd-dra’n gyffredin a phwysig iawn ym myd natur. Ond yn groes i’r Sunri, fe greden nhw’n angerddol, ac o’u profiad eu hun, na allai patrymau creadigol gael eu gorfodi, ac y dylen nhw godi’n ddigymell. A’r peth rhyfedda am y Dladli o’dd sut llwydden nhw i’w cuddio’u hun, am na allai dyn ddod o hyd iddyn nhw trwy’u ceisio nhw, na’u gweld nhw trwy edrych yn syth arnyn nhw. Yn bendant fe fyddai llawer yn amau nad o’n nhw yno o gwbl.

 

Ond o bryd i’w gilydd fe fyddai’r Dladli yn taro ar rywun ar hap a damwain fyddai eisiau’i dorri’i hun yn rhydd rhag gormes gwâr y Sunri, a dysgu, sut i ddechrau’i achub ei hun, ac wedyn, y byd a’i gyd greaduriaid, trwy gynnau gwreichion byw dychymyg yn ei fywyd. Fe fydden nhw’n esbonio bod ‘na ddu a gwyn mewn popeth o dan y Lleuad, ac fe fyddwn ni i gyd angen gweithio’n galed iawn drwy’r amser i ddewis y llwybr cywir i ni’n hun heb ormod o hunan-gasineb na hunan-gyfiawnder. Yn wir, fyddai dim pall ar angen dewis, newid, a thyfu, a dim ond tranc a arhosai ar ben y daith. Fe fyddai’r Dladli yn rhannu’u meddyliau, eu teimladau, a’u profiadau, am taw iddyn nhw, gweithrediad eilradd o’dd ymwybyddiaeth unigol.

 

Yn gyntaf, byddai rhaid i’r prentis baratoi trwy ddiodde’r profiadau caletaf, gan grwydro a mynd ar goll drwy’r amser, ond cael hyd i ryw agwedd o’i wir hunan bob tro byddai’n baglu a chwympo. Ac fe fyddai wedyn yn dechrau’i dderbyn a charu’i hun fel ro’dd e, yn hytrach nag fel ro’dd eisiau bod. Fel hyn gallai’i feddwl, ei ysbryd, ddechrau crwydro’n rhydd tu hwnt i derfynau’r corff, gan agor drysau mewn muriau gwag. Fel hyn fe fyddai’n llwyddo, falle, i ddisgyn i’r Isfyd, gan dreiddio i fydoedd colledig y cyndadau cysefin, a nofio o’r pedwerydd byd amryliw, i'r trydydd byd du, gwyn a llwyd, i’r ail fyd coch, melyn, gwyrdd, ac i lawr tuag at y byd cyntaf, glas, hyd yn oed. Yn ail byddai arno angen tynnu arfogaeth confensiynau cymdeithasol cyn treiddio i’r ogof fwya brawychus i ladd y ddraig sy’n gwarchod y trysor ro’dd wedi bod yn ei geisio mor ddyfal. Ar ôl neidio i’r gwagle, ar ffurf pysgod adeiniog, felly, ar ddechrau’i hediad heb amser na gofod, fe fyddai’n darganfod nad oes teyrnas lân ble ma’ ystyr sefydlog eitha’n bodoli. Ond yn lle hynny, fe gyrhaeddai gartre bod pur, ble nad oes tu mewn na thu mas rhagor, a ble ma’ ystyr oll wedi toddi.

 

Ac wedi i’r prentis ddileu’r grymoedd meddyliol yn ei rwymo, fel mae e ar yr un donfedd â’r byd fel ma’ e mewn gwirionedd, fe fyddai’n gweld taw’r un peth yw poen a phleser, da a drwg, uffern a nef, rhinwedd a llygredigaeth, duwdodau a chythreuliaid. Ac wedyn wedi cael gwared ar ei ymlyniad wrth bethau, fe sylweddolai na fyddai dim byd o bwys iddo’i neud rhagor, gan y gwelai taw disgyblaeth sy’n arwain at bleser, rhithiau sy’n ildio i oleuo, a thrwy geisio rhyddhad y caiff e’i ddal. Ymhellach, wedi cofleidio’r anghenfil drwg oddi mewn iddo, a’i garu, fe allai gyfuno â fe er mwyn ei ladd.

 

Fe fyddai’r arwr wedi cwblhau’r cylch, a dod yn hen ddewin hiraethus. Fe allai fe fynd yn ei ôl yna ar ffurf morfarch â llygaid gwalch, i rannu’r stori ac agor drysau breuddwyd i’r rhai eraill fyddai eisiau dysgu ganddo, gan dangos iddyn nhw sut i chwarae o ddifri eto. A falle os digwyddai hynny, fe fyddai gefynnau cymdeithas gyffredin yn diflannu heb fod yn rhaid iddyn nhw adael yr arddyrnau, fel petai. Ac yn wir ro’dd y Sunri yn ffieiddio'r Dladli o achos eu syniadau anhrefnus, eu dysgeidiaeth anffurfiol, a’u hymarferion chwyldroadol, ac yn gweithio nerth braich ac ysgwydd, a meddwl, ac enaid i ddwyn dylanwad eu gelynion glas i ddim.

 

Maes o law, yn ôl ym maes brwyn, fe briododd Itsi Hepi a gaethon nhw ferch, Zuvti, o’dd fel gafr ddu. Orzi hefyd a briododd Nukti, a esgorodd ar ferch o’r enw Harti, o’dd yn debyg i gyhyraeth. Fe fyddai Nezpi a Sukti bant ran fwya o’r amser, ond pan o’n nhw gartre, fe fydden nhw’n byw gyda’i gilydd ond ddim gŵr a gwraig o’n nhw. Ac ro’dd Sukti o leia’n genfigennus iawn o’r rhai eraill o’dd wedi cael plant, a naeth benderfynu rhwystro Lufsi a Tvetni rhag cael baban. Wel, dyna’r hyn ro’dd e’n sibrwd wrtho’i hun. Ond yn ei galon ro’dd e’n gandryll am fod e’n meddwl bod y Sunri eraill yn ei sarhau fe, a’i wawdio o achos ei goelion od a’i ymddygiad anarferol. Ro’dd e’n siŵr byddai pethau’n llawer gwell ac yntau wrth y llyw. Os byddai rhaid i Lufsi farw i gyflawni hyn, bydded felly! Tri chais i ddisodlwr fyddai oddi ar hynny, ‘lly, fel y gwelwn ni.

 

Yn gyntaf, fe balodd Sukti dwll dwfn yn llawn pigau miniog yn yr ardal ble ro’dd Lufsi yn arfer mynd i hela, a’i orchuddio â dail a changhennau. Pan gwympodd Lufsi i mewn iddo, gaeth e drywanu a marw. Ond dyna lle’r o’dd y planhigion o gwmpas y twll yn gollwng perlysiau iachusol ar ei gorff drylliedig, a’i lenwi â hwmws llaith, ffrwythlon. Ac yno gorweddai Lufsi am dri dydd gan gael ei drawsffurfio, a phan ddihunodd, Azli yr athro o’dd e, ac yn ei law lyfr hynafol achos iddo ddysgu cyfrinachau’r bedd. Pan welodd Sukti hyn, ro’dd arno ofn mawr, a ffoiodd yn syth i begwn y de cyn i’r lleill allu’i ddal, i fesur a phwyso’r sefyllfa a chynllwynio’r castiau nesa.

 

Wedyn, ar ôl cyfnod addas, fe adeiladodd Sukti dŵr tal, ysblennydd â staer droellog ynddo, ar draeth ddim yn rhy bell oddi wrth sigwratau’r Sunri a chynnau tân ar ei ben. Pan aeth Azli i archwilio, fe achosodd Sukti i’r drws gloi cyn iddo yntau gyrraedd y top. Ac wrth i Azli sefyll yno’n arolygu’i diriogaeth oll yn falch, fe daniodd ei elyn ffiws a ffrwydrodd y lle gan losgi Azli yn farwor a chwythwyd ymaith gan y gwynt. Ond gollyngodd yr awel bob brycheuyn o’r cols ar y pridd coch sych, yn llawn o waedfaen o gwmpas y tŵr ble ro’n nhw’n dal i losgi. Pan ddechreuodd fwrw glaw ar ôl tair wythnos, naeth y dŵr a’r awyr gymysgu â’r ulw, y clai llawn metel, a’r tân byw nas diffoddid. A dyna lle’r o’dd cawr â phenglog fflamllyd yn ei balu’i hun o’r ddaear. Dyma o’dd Selki y lleidr, o’dd wedi dwyn grym yr holl elfennau.

 

Ro’dd Sukti yn dychryn i’r fath raddau o glywed a gweld y creadur brawychus ‘ma’n rhuo iddo redeg bant fel cath i gythraul, neu wenci, neu ewig, neu filgi. Ro’dd e’n dal i redeg fel y gwynt pan gyrhaeddodd y cyfandir gogleddol. Ac yno, fe syrthiodd ar lawr bron â marw, ac yno ro’dd e’n llesgáu nes i drigolion anweledig yr ardal ddaeth ato, a gofalu amdano. Falle fod e’n wir na ellid eu gweld gan taw rhyw ffordd o ymestyn synhwyrau’r corff drwy aberthu’r corff ‘na sydd. Ond er bod eu geiriau’n nerthol iawn, llawer mwy na lleisiau yn unig o’n nhw. Wedi cryn amser, fe naeth Sukti ddadebru a dod at ei goed, gyda help eu hud uffernol effeithiol. Ond yn ogystal â’r bwyd, a’r moddion, ro’dd e wedi amsugno llawer o’u syniadau a’u hagweddau, a dysgu dulliau syfrdanol o chwarae’n wyllt gyda grymoedd natur gan y Dladli er na allai fe’u gweld nhw. Yn y pen draw ro’dd y ddau barti wrth eu boddau o ganlyniad i’r ymweliad annisgwyl, y naill achos bod nhw’n dwlu ar ledaenu cythreuldeb, y llall gan fod e’n credu y câi’i ffordd ei hun o’r diwedd a thalu’r pwyth yn ôl i’r Sunri creulon.

 

Nawr, ro’dd Selki yn hala dyddiau bwy gilydd yn sigwrat Tvetni a chyn pen dim ro’dd e wedi’i neud hi’n feichiog. Tra o’dd pawb arall yn dathlu, sleifiodd y cyfrifydd a hysbyswr Rumpi, mab i Shafti y bwtsiwr, ymaith i ddweud wrth ei feistr Sukti a lechai erbyn hynny mewn hen fwthyn glas ar lannau’r afon chwim ar droed y mynyddoedd o galchfaen ar gyrion y fforest binwydd o'r enw Nogrut ar ben gogleddol y Cyfandir Deheuol. Pan glywodd Sukti y newyddion hapus, bu bron iddo danio gan lid, ac yn y fan a’r lle fe benderfynodd gweithredu i niweidio’i elynion yn enbyd cyn gynted ag y byddai’n bosibl. Dan ddylanwad y Dladli cyfrwys, felly lluniodd Sukti ddyfais lanhau i chwistrellu dŵr poeth yn cynnwys cymysgedd o botas ac olew casia dros y corff i gyd. Enw yntau ar y peiriant rhyfeddol o’dd y “cawl od.”

 

Aeth y gwas bach Rumpi â’r ddyfais i sigwrat Selki a’i gadael yno gyda chyfarwyddiadau llawn ar sut i’w defnyddio. Nawr allai Tvetni ddim rhoi’r gorau i gwyno taw rhwng yr hela, a’r gormesu, a’r lladrata, ro’dd Selki yn drewi drwy’r amser. Yn wir, ro’dd e wastad yn gwynto fel petai fe newydd ei godi o’r bedd. Felly croesawodd yntau’r anrheg anhysbys yn gynnes, tynnu’i diwnig, ei goron lawryf, a’i sandalau ar unwaith, a neidio i mewn. Ond heb yn wybod iddo, ro’dd Sukti wedi trefnu i’r be-ti’n-galw gynhesu’r hylif glanhau cymaint nes byddai Selki yn llamu’n uchel yn yr awyr, a mas o’i groen. Wedyn, ac yntau hanner ffordd rhwng y ddaear a'r nefoedd, yn noethlymun ac yn sebon i gyd, fe fyddai weiren rasel wenwynllyd yn saethu mas a’i lapio, gan ei rwygo’n ddarnau. Yn ôl doethineb y Dladli, dyna o’dd yr unig ffordd o’i ladd e’n farw gorn. A dyna beth ddigwyddodd, a Rumpi cas yn hofran yno i gasglu’r talpiau gwaedlyd o gnawd a’u cludo nhw bant pan glywai fe’r sgrechian.

 

Gan glegar chwerthin naeth Sukti ei hun wasgaru’r lympiau o asgwrn a madruddyn, chyhyr a bloneg dros holl wyneb y Nw Yrth, yn yr afonydd, ar ben y mynyddoedd, ar waelod y môr, ymhlith y coedwigoedd, ac yn y dyffrynnoedd, fel na allai neb gael hyd iddyn nhw i gyd i ail-greu’i gas elyn. Ac er fod e’n mynd yn ysig ac yn gleisiau i gyd, ro’dd e’n mwynhau’i waith yn enfawr. Ond fedrai fe ddim teithio dros y mynyddoedd o galchfaen ger yr afon chwim i gyrraedd canol fforest binwydd Nogrut ar ben gogleddol y Cyfandir Deheuol. A dyna o’dd achos bod Elni a’r llengoedd o Filwragedd yn gwarchod y lle sanctaidd. Cyn iddo gerdded ymaith, fodd bynnag, a’r sach hesian yn cynnwys talpiau gwaedlyd o gorff Selki dros ei ysgwyd, fe naeth lwyddo i gipio llond dwrn o’r planhigyn â deiliant pluog o’r enw Spikni. A chyn gynted ag y naeth gyffwrdd â’i groen, fe wellodd ei friwiau oll.

 

Mor ofidus o’dd Tvetni o achos y trais ‘ma ar ei chymar, ac yn enwedig felly am ei bod yn gwybod ei bod hi ar fin ddod â’u plentyn diniwed a diamddiffyn i mewn i’r byd brwnt ac ysglyfaethus yn fuan iawn. Ond hefyd fe sylweddolodd taw, os byddai hi’n ymadael â maes brwyn i fynd i helpu Selki, fe fyddai arni angen nyrs i garco’r crwt iddi, a hithau’n crwydro’r Nw Yrth gan geisio cael hyd i’w chymar, a’i iacháu. Felly gyda chymorth y Sunri eraill, fe ddaeth hi â menyw o ryw Fyd Arall, a chyda hynny esgor ar fab, Blardi, o’dd yn debyg i wrgi, a’r person mwya hardd yn yr holl Nw Yrth.

 

Fe gytunodd y wraig i edrych ar ei ôl e tra byddai Tvetni bant, a’i amddiffyn rhag yr ymosodiadau di-baid gan Rumpi nes i’r llanc gyrraedd un deg chwech oed. A dyna a wnâi hi’n llwyddiannus iawn gan ennill clod a bri cyn dychwelyd i’w byd ei hun i esgor ar faban maes o law er taw morwyn o’dd hi. Fe aeth hi â chyfrinachau fyrdd ynghylch amaethyddiaeth yn ôl gyda hi, a’r enw Blardi hefyd, a dyna pam ma’ fersiynau arno mor gyffredin mewn gwledydd ar bwys y Coedwigoedd Iâ ar ei phlaned heddi. Yr endid mwya llachar a theg o bryd i’w weld erioed ar wyneb y Nw Yrth o’dd y llanc, o’dd â llygaid glas yr awyr, a gwallt hir, golau. Ond tra o’dd e’n gryf a deallus iawn, ro’dd e’n ystyfnig ac afreolus tu hwnt hefyd, a chreulon ar adegau. Fe a greodd i'r Sunri o'r llys cysefin yn y Pwll Diwaelod y dras o ddifodfilod arswydus, fel arfau byw i ladd, a rhwygo, a difetha.

 

Fe deithiai Tvetni o bant i dalar, gan chwilio a chwalu, a gofyn i bawb a phopeth a o’n nhw’n gwybod i ble ro’dd Selki wedi diflannu, ond ym mhob man fe gâi hi’r un ateb, “Ni wyddom ble ma’r Arglwydd.” Ond er gwaetha’i hing, fe gofiai hi hefyd ei bachgen bach, ac wrth iddi fynd o gwmpas, dywedai wrth y rhai siaradai â nhw, “Diolch yn fawr iawn, ddieithryn caredig! Ond ga i ofyn un ffafr fach arall gennych cyn i fi fynd ar fy hynt? Fyddwch chi addo peidio â niweidio fy mab, y person mwyaf hardd yn yr holl Nw Yrth, os gwelwch chi’n dda?”

 

Ac fe gytunai pawb yn syth, yn ei ffordd neilltuol ei hun. Dyna lle’r o’dd hi felly, yn ymdeithio dros holl wyneb y blaned o begwn y de i gors y gogledd. Er na allai neb ddweud ble ro’dd Selki, wrth iddi chwilio, fe ddaeth hi o hyd i dalpiau bychain o’i gorff a alwai arni o’r dyffrynnoedd, ymhlith y coedwigoedd, ar waelod y môr, ar ben y mynyddoedd, ac yn yr afonydd. Fe ofidiai hi fwy bob tro iddi ddarganfod talp arall, a thra o’dd pawb yn addo na fydden nhw’n newidio Blardi, serch hynny ro’dd Tvetni yn anobeithio am fedru casglu pob darn o gorff ei dad.

 

Pan naeth Tvetni gyrraedd gogledd pell y Cyfandir Deheuol, fe ddywedodd Elni, Tywysydd Medrus y Milwragedd wrthi iddyn nhw droi Sukti yn ei ôl, a threiddiai hithau ddim i’r fforest gysegredig o binwydd, chwaith. Ac felly, chytunodd un planhigyn ddim na fyddai’n drygu Blardi. A dyna o’dd yr un o’r enw Spikni sydd mor llyfn, ac mor aromatig â gwair ffres, ac yn tyfu’n wyllt yn y goedwig drwchus ymhlith y glaswelltir wedi’i amddiffyn gan fynyddoedd enfawr o galchfaen. Ac wedyn fe aeth Tvetni yn fwy digalon nag erioed o ddychmygu corff Selki wedi’i larpio, a meddwl na fyddai hi byth yn adennill y darnau oll. Elni a soniodd felly wrthi wedyn, “Er na allwn ni’ch helpu chi yn eich loes, cofiwch chi hyn. Yr Haul sy’n gweld popeth ac yn gwybod enw popeth. Pan fydd e’n galw, fe fydd popeth yn ateb. Pan fydd e’n gorchymyn, fe fydd pawb yn ufuddhau. Dilynwch yr Haul felly ac efallai fe ddewch chi o hyd i’r hyn rydych yn ei geisio.” Do’dd Tvetni ddim yn deall, ond aeth hi ar ei ffordd gan ddilyn trywydd yr Haul wrth ganu’i thelyn, a thros y blynyddoedd, fe nâi hi ymweld â phob cwr o’r Nw Yrth.

 

Wrth i Tvetni ymlwybro i lan ac i lawr, dros bant a bryn, fan hyn fan draw, ddydd ar ôl dydd, heb gwyno na grwgnach, fe ddechreuai hi ddirnad geiriau yn nhrydar yr adar, yn nhorri’r tonnau, yn sisial y glaswellt, ac yn y synau oll wedi’u neud gan bob peth dan yr Haul. Tra o’dd hyn yn digwydd, fodd bynnag, ro’dd yr Haul Disglair yn rhy brysur o lawer yn canu, a dawnsio, a chwerthin i dalu sylw i Tvetni yn clustfeinio, mor swynol o’dd sain ei thelyn. A dyna lle’r o’dd hithau felly’n dwyn geiriau’r Haul a’u gwau nhw i gyd i ffurfio cân fwy hudol na dim byd o’dd wedi’i glywed erioed o’r blaen—

 

"... Dalatha, bravlu, klendru, eshempa; Silpistí, madrolu, bamlaru, zileví; Turikikihí, thirularop, bahuakah, veraza; Endilda, andíshis, lilivalis, kestala; Brubumbu, elentlova, kualuru, tithihenta; Anvisashé, kouroakrí, ankelrerek, shezesista; Vilizda, huiklé, vildarsí, delkurí.” 

 

Yna fe arhosai Tvetni ei chyfle. Gyfnod y Lleuad Lawn yn ystod y seithfed mis, fe ddringodd hithau i ben y mynydd uchaf yn y Nw Yrth, a dechrau canu’r gân wedi’i dwyn oddi wrth yr Haul. Yn wir ro’dd y geiriau’n llifo heb rwystr o’i cheg bendig mor felys a nerthol achos bod nhw’n enwi pob peth yn bodoli ar wyneb y Nw Yrth, ac yn y moroedd a’r awyr hefyd, a datgan ei bwrpas a’i ffawd. Ond ro’n nhw eisoes wedi dechrau newid cyn iddyn nhw adael ei gwefusau —

 

“... Anthrathlu, hnaramru, hritharu, izalvu; Shehnethzí, hnirthlirí, hnanrelí, jelemí; Unthvlethla, thlelulba, mlavahva, hneleja; Inthnethré, andjendjé, rerehé, vishthavné; Mlarmuhlnu, irthlurlvu, havaru, thíhavu; Hvalashé, hvulahlé, avlivé, zethlizvlé; Hlervezthlo, vuhuhvo, hathraljo, thihrulo.”

 

Ac ro’n nhw’n gallu dal neu ollwng yn dibynnu ar wir ddymuniad yr un fyddai’n eu llafarganu. Am un deg saith o flynyddoedd ro’dd Tvetni wedi bod yn crwydro o amgylch yn ceisio Selki. Y noson honno, wrth gwrs, ro’dd hi eisiau’n anad dim ei gael e yn ôl, ac wrth iddi ganu, ymgasglodd yr holl ddarnau o’i gnawd at ei gilydd i ailffurfio’i gorff o’i blaen hi.

 

Wedi cael modd i fyw ro’dd Tvetni wedyn, ond ro’dd ei llawenydd yn fyrhoedlog, achos taw dim ond hongian yno’n siglo yn yr awel laith, goslyd wnâi’r ffurf welw heb yngan gair, gan ei gwawdio hi fel bloc garw o glai seimllyd cyn farwed â hoelen. Wyddai Tvetni’m beth i’w neud ond llefain, a phlycio tannau’r delyn, a chanu, ond nawr cân dra thrist o’dd hi. “Be na nawn i i’w gael e ‘nol?” gofynnodd hithau, gan ateb ei hun, “Yn wir, fe nawn i unrhyw beth, hyd yn oed rhoi ‘mywyd am ei un e!” Mor nerthol o’dd yr alaw taw rhyw hanfod cymar Tvetni a’i clywai o’r trydydd byd, a dyna lle’r o’dd y ddelw chwyslyd, hell yn gollwng dagrau ar ôl dagrau ar bridd llwm y mynydd, gan achosi iddo flaguro. Ond unwaith eto, ro’dd y geiriau’n wahanol —

 

“…Thalasa, fefa, hetha, furulu; Size, nilara, narala, sifi; Thurithe, thiropu, pahaha, pilisapa; Ethitha, athisa, lila, lenithe; Porupunu, eletha, uala, thiaha; Afirase, hourouhu, filife, sesiha; Filisitha, huiha, fathaleri, thehelo.”

 

Gyda hynny, ro’dd Tvetni yn synnu cymaint iddi lewygu, gan syrthio ar lawr wrth i’w hanfod gadael ei chorff a dilyn llwybr y dagrau tuag at y trydydd byd. Ac yno fe naeth enaid Tvetni ddarganfod ysbryd ei chymar, ac fe anwesai’r ddau, gan ymblethu, cyn codi gyda’i gilydd yn araf araf tuag at ben y mynydd uchaf unwaith ‘to. Pan lanion nhw yno, fe ailgydiodd pob un o’r ddau â’r corff cywir, ac ro’dd cymar Tvetni yn holliach, a dianaf, a chryf, a heini unwaith eto. Fe naeth y dagrau, fodd bynnag, ddianc, gan ddal i ddisgyn trwy haenau’r Isfyd, gan losgi’u ffordd alarus i lawr, ac o’r diwedd fe gyrhaeddon nhw’r byd glas cyntaf. Yno fe naethon nhw ymgrynhoi mewn twll mawr i ffurfio llyn dwfn, a’i wyneb yn berffaith lonydd fel pwll o arian byw, ble gallai dyn weld popeth yn digwydd yn unrhyw fan yn y pum byd, a’r tu hwnt os o’dd yn dymuno ‘lly. Ac wedyn yn ôl ar y Nw Yrth, ro’dd y cariadon yn gorweddian ym mreichiau’i gilydd am amser hir, cyn cusanu’n dyner unwaith.

 

A’r eiliad honno, ro’dd yna floeddio chwerthin uchel yn cythryblu’r awyr boeth ar arni ddrycsawr osôn, wrth i fflach ddirfawr o fellten rwygo’r nefoedd gan adael llewyrch fiolet ym mhob man. Gan i Tvetni fod yn fodlon ei haberthu’i hun, a hud yr Haul mor gryf, ro’dd hi wedi cael llusgo hanfod ei gymar yn ôl o’r Isfyd. Ond ma’na bob tro bris rhatach neu ddrutach i’w dalu am bob gweithred hudol, gredwch chi fi, achos bydd yn aflonyddu ar drefn fawr y cosmos i ryw raddau, boed hynny’n ddinod neu’n sylweddol. Pan o’dd y swyn wedi dod i ben felly, ddim Selki yr athro a orweddai yn ymyl Tvetni, ond Belzi y bwtsiwr ac yn ei llaw fwyell waedlyd, gan iddo goncro marwolaeth dair gwaith.

 

Yr hudoles fwya swynol ar y Nw Yrth fyddai Tvetni felly o hynny mlaen, a Mam y Meirwon Oll hefyd. Fe nâi atseiniau’i chân, o’dd yn ogoneddus, a lledf, a llawen ar yr un pryd, eu hargraffu'u hun ar ddeunydd yr Holl Fyd wrth iddyn nhw lifo drwy amser a'r gofod, gan doddi a thorri’n deilchion —

 

“…Tha la sa fe fa he tha fu ru lu Si ze ni la ra na ra la si fi

Thu ri the thi ro pu pa ha ha pi li sa pa E thi tha a thi sa li la le ni the

Po ru pu nu e le tha u a la thi a ha A fi ra se ho u ro u hu fi li fe se si ha

Fi li si tha hu i ha fa tha le ri the he lo.”

 

Hyd yn oed wedyn, fyddai canfod deyrnynnau o’r gân wreiddiol yn gadael i'r rhai allai’u hailgyfuno a chanu mewn cytgord â’r emyn, neu'r oernad, neu'r hanes newydd, fwrw hud nerthol iawn. Ond ro’dd y geiriau mor llithrig bwerus ei fod yn beryglus eu llefaru nhw, am y tuedden nhw i ddianc rhag rheolaeth y dewin, gan eu hail-drefnu'u hun i beri canlyniadau syfrdanol a daeargrynfaol yn amlach na pheidio. Ond nage dyna o’dd y cyfan. O ganlyniad i Ddisgyniad Tvetni, gyfnod y Lleuad Lawn yn seithfed mis pob blwyddyn o hynny ‘mlaen, fe agorai pyrth y trydydd byd fel gallai ysbrydion yr ymadawedig grwydro’n ddiatal ymhlith y rhai byw am noson gan helpu neu frifo yn ôl eu harfer.

 

Ac felly, pen-blwydd Blardi yn un deg chwech oed, pan fyddai’n cael ei dderbyn i rengoedd y Sunri, ddaeth yn ddathliad dwbl. Dyna pan ddelai’r mab i oed, a phan nelai’r tad ailanedig ddychwelyd mewn gogoniant. Mor grac a rhwystredig â llosgfynydd nad o’dd wedi cael echdorri ers milenia o’dd Sukti o sylweddoli hyn, a dweud y lleia. Fe aeth ar ei lw wedyn y byddai’n dial ar y teulu hapus unwaith ac am byth. Ond fe fyddai'n rhaid iddo weithredu ar ei liwt ei hun y tro ‘ma, gan i’w was bach Rumpi ddiflannu mor sydyn o’dd ar wyneb y Nw Yrth ar ôl methu cael gwaed ar y plentyn ffiaidd Blardi, o’dd yn cael ei gyfarch fel ysbryd harddwch caotig y blaned. Wythnos cyn y parti mawr, fe naeth Sukti hedfan i gael cyngor gan y Dladli ar y cyfandir gogleddol. Dyna lle’r o’dd y ffurfiau anweledig yn gorffwyll chwerthin o ddysgu iddo fynd â sbrigyn o Spikni o ymylon fforest binwydd y Milwragedd. Fe ddangosodd y castwyr e sut i lunio saeth o goesynnau Spikni, a dweud wrtho sut i’w chaledu a’i neud yn anataliadwy gan ddefnyddio swyn nerthol iawn o’r enw Defod Amsasi.

 

Fe frysiodd Sukti adre mor gyflym ag y gallai felly ar gefn eryr enfawr gwyn i gynllunio’r gwaith mawr, fyddai’n arwain at dranc Blardi a thorri calon Tvetni a Belzi. A thrwy neud hynny, a lladd unig etifedd y llwyth, falle byddai’n chwalu goruchafiaeth y Sunri dros y rhan fwya o’r Nw Yrth hefyd. Dyna o’dd ei gynllun diystyrllyd ac anfad. Wrth gwrs, fel y gwyddom ni, yn anffodus bryd hwnnw, dim ond gwrywod a gâi etifeddu grym a theyrnasu dros y llwyth, a dyna achosai gryn ddig i’r merched Zuvti a Harti, o’dd yn gryf, a hardd, a deallus, a phenstiff. A siarad yn blwmp ac yn blaen, cymaint ro’n nhw’n casáu Blardi, y crachfonheddwr ifanc, nes bydden nhw’n neud unrhyw beth i gael gwared arno fe.

 

Felly yn ystod y dyddiau cyn y wledd fawr, fe luniodd Sukti dair saeth o goesynnau Spikni, y planhigyn nad o’dd wedi addo na fyddai byth yn niweidio Blardi, a’u caledu nhw gyda geiriau Defod Amsasi dan olau’r Lleuad Oriog, nes bydden nhw’n anataliadwy. Pan naeth e yngan y geiriau am y tro cyntaf, a’i berfeddion yn llawn iâ – “He-tleki, Mi-tleki; Etzi, Itzi; E’tsetpi U’yi; Mi-vrasi El-rui” – fe ryddhaodd nerth aruthrol i’r Holl Fyd a ddatblygai’i fywyd ei hun, er na fyddai neb yn llefaru’r geiriau’n gywir eto. Ro’dd angen tair saeth, ni raid dweud, achos bod gan Blardi dri thad, mewn ffordd o siarad, sef Azli yr athro, Selki y lleidr, a Belzi y bwtsiwr.

 

Ro’dd yn hawdd i Sukti ddarbwyllo’r ddwy fenyw flin a sorllyd i chwarae rhan yn ei gynllun ofnadw, wedi’u swyno nhw â’u geiriau teg, ac fe roiodd yntau un saeth i Zuvti â’i gwallt golau’n llen dros hanner ei hwyneb, ac un saeth i Harti â’i gwallt du wedi’i dorri’n fyr iawn, wrth gadw’r drydedd iddo’i hun. Ac wedyn fe naeth Sukti drawsffurfio’i hun yn belen dentaclog o ectoplasm, ac wedyn dod yn folwsg mawr ysgithrog, ac yn olaf cymryd siâp morwyn o’r enw Dendri â ffluwch enfawr o wallt coch. Ddydd yr ŵyl fawr, ymgasglodd pawb i lygad-dystio i Blardi yn cael ei drochi yn y crochan enfawr o bres gwyrdd yng nghanol y maen du ymhlith sigwratau’r Sunri, â choron o lawryf am ei ben swynol ond didostur.

 

A dyna lle’r o’dd Dendri, Zuvti, a Harti yn sefyll ar uchafbwyntiau triongl hafalochrog ar gylchedd y maen enfawr, a saeth anataliadwy wedi’i chuddio lan llewys pob un. Ro’dd y saith Sunri arall yn ffurfio cylch o amgylch y crochan, a Blardi yn hongian mewn harnais uwch ei ben, yn gwisgo tiwnig draddodiadol o hesian gwyn a gwregys gwyrdd am ei ganol. Yr union eiliad naeth Belzi orchymyn i’r llanc gael ei ollwng i lawr i’r hylif gludiog, trwchus, du, fe daflodd y tri lleiddiad eu saethau’n gydamserol tuag ato fe nerth eu breichiau. Am nad o’dd y Spikni wedi gwrthod brifo Blardi, do’dd dim dewis gyda’r saethau, ac o dan ddylanwad Defod Amsasi ro’n nhw’n anataladwy’n wir. A dyna lle’r o’dd un yn trywanu’r llanc drwy’i lygad de, un arall drwy’i galon, ac y drydedd drwy’i glun chwith. Ro’dd Sukti wedi trefnu popeth nes byddai’n ymddangos bod y peiriant codi wedi torri gan ryddhau’r darnau miniog, angheuol. Ac felly fu farw Blardi, etifedd y Sunri a seren fydol.

 

Ar y gair, fe gaeth y lle’i lenwi â sŵn dychrynllyd, fel llewod yn rhuo, moroedd yn brochi, bleiddiaid yn udo, a chleddyfau’n llyncu bywydau. Ro’dd fel petai byddai’r twrw uffernol yn parhau am byth, a difa’r Nw Yrth oll, gan ei fod yn ormod i’r byd ei oddef. Aeth yr awyr yn borffor. Gwagiodd y crochan gan fyrlymu’n gyfoglyd. Holltodd y maen gyda chlep fyddarol, gan greu Bwlch Byrhoedlog rhwng y Nw Yrth a’r bydoedd eraill. Syrthiodd celain Blardi yn llwrw ei ddeudroed i lawr siafft y pydew yn dilyn y crochan. Trodd y pridd ffrwythlon yn anialdir o wydr toredig. Aeth y dŵr yn y ffos o amgylch yr anheddiad yn wirod pur fyddai’n ddiod lân wedi’i chysegru i Blardi colledig yn nes ymlaen.

 

A dyna lle’r o’dd pawb yn codymu’n bendramwnwgl i’r Bwlch Byrhoedlog o’dd wedi agor mor sydyn rhwng y pedwar byd, ac i lawr ac i lawr yr âi pawb, i’r agendor. Pan o’dd holl bendefigion llwyth y Sunri wedi mynd trwy’r hollt sgrechlyd, fe gaeodd hi tu ôl iddyn nhw fel safnau ymlusgiad aruthrol, diflas. Sukti o’dd yr un a ddisgynnodd bellaf, gan gyrraedd byd cyntaf y cyndadau cysefin. Ac yno fe gaeth e’i gloi mewn cwch glas dirboenus, islaw afon danddaearol o ble ro’dd e’n gorfod gwylio pob un peth a ddigwyddai yn y bydoedd eraill. Er do’dd e'm yno’i hun yn y cnawd i ymyrryd â chynlluniau’r Sunri, ro’dd e’n gallu neud llanast gyda chryn ymdrech. Ym mhen tipyn, fe ddechreuai fe estyn ei dentaclau seicig ar draws amser a’r gofod i neud drwg yn rhywle arall hefyd.

 

I’r ail fyd yr aeth y Sunri eraill, ble dysgen nhw lawer iawn, cyn llwyddo i ddychwelyd i’r Nw Yrth a phara’u rhyfel tragwyddol yn erbyn y Dladli. A beth am Blardi, y llanc mwya golygus a mwya anodd ei drin a fodolai erioed? Fe gwympodd e i’r trydydd byd, ble arhosai, a does neb yn gwybod ei ffawd, er taw falle fod e’n teyrnasu yno’n wyn ei fyd am byth. A falle byddai honno’n fargen dda: ffeirio bywyd Blardi am fywydau’i dri thad, Azli, Selki, a Belzi. Ond dywedir heddi gan swynwyr goleuedig taw’i ddyfyn-ysbrydion Pfenti, gair, a Rzahsi, gweithred, a ddaiff pan fydd y dewin yn galw ar enw’u meistr glân i’w amddiffyn rhag Zuvti y gythreules dân, a Harti yr ysbryd iâ.

 

Yn ystod alltudiaeth hirbarhaol y Sunri, fe ddigwyddai’n anfwriadol i’r Dladli ddod mewn cysylltiad meddyliol â breuddwydwyr, siamaniaid, artistiaid, a chyfrinwyr, ar blanedau eraill dros yr Holl Fyd, ac ro’dd eu neges chwyldroadol yn cael ei lledaenu ar draws ac ar hyd, er nad o’n nhw’n malu’r un botwm corn am hynny o gwbl. Ar ôl i’r Sunri grafangu’u ffordd yn ôl i’r Nw Yrth, tasg o’dd yn dra anodd am i’r Bwlch Byrhoedlog ei selio’i hun tu cefn iddyn nhw wedi’u cwymp, fe dreulien nhw gryn dipyn o’u hamser yn ffraeo ym mysg ei gilydd. Pan nad o’n nhw’n neud felly, âi’r frwydr rhwng y Dladli a’r Sunri yn ei blaen, a hyd yn oed yn fwy cenfigennus, a ffrom, a sbeitlyd o’dd y Sunri o weld llwyddiant anfwriadol eu gelynion marwol. Fe naethon nhw, felly, ddechrau anfon cenhadon cudd i’r bydoedd eraill, i wyrdroi dylanwad y Dladli, gan ddefnyddio technoleg wedi’i seilio ar hud cyntefig yr Isfyd i greu’r dreigiau cymhellol fyddai’n rhwymo a gostegu unigolion, ffrwyno gwrth-gydffurfiaeth, hawlio ufudd-dod, a rheoli cymdeithas. Ac yno fe fydden nhw’n bwydo ar rym bywiol y rhai byw, a hala eneidiau’r meirwon i lafurio yn y Pwll Diwaelod yn ôl ar y Nw Yrth.

 

Ym myd cyntaf y cyndadau csefin, roedd Sukti yn dod yn gryfach gryfach, a dechrau gwylltio’r Sunri. O ganlyniad. fe naeth Lufsi deithio i lawr i’r Cwch Glas Dirboenus ar ffurf Azli yr athro, Selki y lleidr, a Belzi y bwtsiwr, i fegian arno fe, ymresymu â fe, ac yn y pen draw i’w orchymyn a’i orfodi fe i fod eu llygad gwyliadwrus, eu cennad wedi’i garcharu, a’u llysgennad wedi’i rwydo. Ac er bod Sukti yn rhefru a rhuo, mor nerthol oedd Lufsi yn ei dri agwedd nad allai yntau ond cutuno. Nawr, er bod Sukti wedi’i ddarostwng, do’dd e byth yn rhoi’r ffidil yn y to o ran llesteirio cynlluniau’i gyn-gyd-wladwyr, gan geisio tarfu'r colomennod a chynhyrfu'r dyfroedd ar bob cyfle posibl. Ond bob tro anfonai fe’i goblynnod meddyliol neu’i fwbachod dychmygol mas i rwystro ymgyrchoedd ei gymheiriaid ffiaidd, fe fyddai’r ymgais yn mynd o’i le, a throi yn ei erbyn i’w helpu nhw yn lle’u niweidio yn y pen draw. Unwaith, fe naeth ddigwydd i’w chwarae anfedrus gyda’r continwwm cosmig agor porth i fyd arall o’r enw y Blaned Yrth, gan roi ffrwyn i’r saith Sunri newid hynt ei ddatblygiad yn gyfan gwbl ac am byth.

 

Yn ara bach a bob yn dipyn, fe gasglai Sukti, yng ngwedd y Peintiwr Coch a fedrai ystumio’r gofod, troi amser yn ôl, a neud i freuddwydion ddod yn sylweddol, acolitiaid, asiantau, a deiliaid dros yr Holl Fyd, gyda’i bwerau meddyliol a’i addewidion am glod, golud, a gwireddu pob dymuniad, yn ogystal â’i fygythiadau am artaith dragwyddol. Ar rai bydoedd, naen nhw ymddangos fel mynachod cycyllog, ond fel seirff llyfn eu tafod, dichellgar ar blanedau eraill, ac fe gymeren nhw lawer o ffurfiau amgen ar hynny. O’r diwedd, fodd bynnag, pan fyddai’r hen Haul Coch ar fin ffrwydro cyn dileu pob gronyn o fywyd oddi ar wyneb y Nw Yrth, Sukti a gamai i’r bwlch fel petai.

 

Ond ma’n sicr na fyddai wedi neud hynny oni bai i Lufsi ddisgyn i’r Cwch Glas Dirboenus ar waelod byd cyntaf y cyndadau cysefin aeonau di-rif o’r blaen, ddichon, i rwymo Sukti â’r hud mwya nerthol. Wedyn, ar ben yr oes gosmig nesaf, castiau cyson Sukti fyddai’n uno’r Dladli a’r Sunri i greu tras newydd o’r enw y Tlevki, gan eu hyrddio nhw oll trwy’r gofod tuag at blaned las, wyrdd, a ffrwythlon, ac un barod i’w hanrheithio, ble gwledden nhw’n orfoleddus ar gyrff, a meddyliau, ac eneidiau’r trigolion anwybodus am gryn amser. Serch hynny, yn ddigon naturiol, do’dd e’m yn bosibl i neb herio’r Drefn Fawr ynglŷn â newid, a dadfeilio, a thranc am byth, ac yn y pen draw, y rhai’n trio gorfodi’r Holl Fyd gâi’u twyllo a’u dymchwelyd hefyd. Wedi’r cwbl, hyd yn oed yr Haul Coch, y Lleuad Las, y Nw Yrth, a’r Planedau Niwlog fu farw wedi einioes hir ddychrynllyd, ac yn ddi-os fe fydd y Blaned Yrth drengi yn ei thro hefyd. Bid a fo am hynny, fe gosbid y Tlekvi yn briodol am eu rhyfyg fel petaen nhw’n blant drwg o’dd wedi dwyn tân a chael eu llosgi, ond dim ond wedi iddyn nhw newid cwrs y byd unwaith eto gan ddefnyddio’r sgiliau ro’n nhw wedi’u hennill ar y Blaned Yrth, ond nage yn y ffordd ro'n nhw wedi dychmygu na bwriadu.

 

Falle taw nage anhygoel fyddai mentro’r farn taw gwaeth na’r meistri’u hun o’dd y disgyblion hyffordden nhw. Ond eto i gyd, falle taw gwobr o’dd honno, i’r Tlevki o leia, nad o’dd ond llaid a heulwen i ddechrau. Er na châi Sukti etifedd, fe âi yn ei flaen i ddefnyddio llawer o enwau, gwisgo aml fasg, meddu ar sawl personoliaeth, a chwarae llawer o rannau, gan ymddangos fel amddifad, milwr, lleidr, meddyg, artist, athro, fferiad, a bardd ymhlith rhai eraill, ac ro’dd ei ddylanwad yn helaeth iawn yn wir. Ac enw’r blaned bitw ‘na o’dd y Ddaear, cyn belled i ffwrdd, ar goll yn niwloedd amser, a drawsffurfid tu hwnt i adnabyddiaeth gan y Tlevki, wrth i sillafu cân trawsffurfio Tvetni barhau i athreiddio i’r Holl Fyd, gan newid drwy’r amser —

 

“Li tha ru ha ho ha – si he ni sa a ra ze sa – la li tha the ra e – i lu a a pi fi a – e si pa la thu ni – ha tha se nu na thi – thi ru fa fa ra – si thi ro pa li fi – le la ri la fi fu – pu u thi pu ha – si le ro he tha fe hu – u po lo ri fi the sa – la le se ha tha tha – fe u the hu li…”

 

 

Ond dyna stori arall yn llwyr.

 

Wel, dyna chi ‘te, dyn ni di cyrraedd diwedd y chwedl, a dyna’r geiriau tyngedfennol i chi, y gosodiad hudol ola, “Ond dyna stori arall yn llwyr.” Pwy fydde wedi meddwl, a finnau’n cwato ‘ma’n crynu gan ofn? Wrth gwrs, nage stori arall mohoni hi o gwbl, dyna’r gwir noeth, ofnadw, ond bywyd go iawn, a ninnau oll yn ei ganol! Www, cymaint wi’n casáu sut mae pethau wedi mynd ers i’r mwnci bach ewn ‘na ma’n nhw’n alw’n Fab Darogan, a’r arweinydd cwlt, y Tywysydd Medrus, o’dd yn arfer bod yn artist graffiti neu be bynnag, ryddhau’r Tlevkimvi ar ein Byd druan ni. Ac wrth gwrs dyna’r enw cywir, yn golygu ‘Draig Farwol.’ Roedd y Doethur Du a’r Tafod Arian yn deall ‘ny ganrifoedd yn ôl, ond fe na’th Anathré Krosm·ethra (Andrea Großmann, hynny yw) ei gamddehongli fel Telok-vovim, ‘Y Syrthiedig.’ Ddim arna i mae’r bai, nethon nhw ‘nhwyllo i, y ddau ddiawl ‘na, Evlan Baks·ethra a Stharafan Krosm·ethra (Elfan a Steffan, wrth gwrs). Ro’dd ‘na lawer o anarchwyr technolegol, hacwyr bywyd, a môr-ladron yn y seiberofod yn llechu tu ôl i’w meddalwedd amgryptio, eu rhithffurfiau annymunol, a’u personoliaethau ffug o’dd yn eu helpu nhw fyd, gyda’u halgorithmau analytig, a’u cronfeydd data enfawr ac anhygoel.

 

Na’th pethau gychwyn digwydd yn ara ac yn ddigon anymwthiol, a rhai pobl yn tyfu cynffonau, cyrn, blew, pigau, cennau, carnau, neu adenydd. Do’n nhw’m yn bihafio’n fwystfilaidd gan amla i ddechrau, ond yn fuan roedd y croesiadau’n ffurfio gangiau a rhyfela yn erbyn ei gilydd. Ac wedyn na’th cymdeithas ddechrau chwalu wrth i’r bodau hybrid eu trefnu’u hunain a phenderfynu ymosod arnon ni’r ‘anailgyfluniedig’ dan orchymyn yr Ieuenctid Amgen bondigrybwyll. Dyn nhwythau’m yn newid wrth gwrs, ond yn mynd yn fwyfwy nerthol bob dydd. Yn ddiweddar fodd bynnag ma’ pethau wedi mynd o ddrwg i waeth. So hi’n wlad i hen wŷr bellach, wel, nage i fodau dynol o unrhyw oedran. Ma’ pobl yn newid drwy’r amser, gan fynd dros i’r ochr dywyll. Ma’na gimerâu’n prancio, a rhedeg o gwmpas, a hedfan dros bob man. Neu’n heidio i’r arfordir i fynd i fyw yn y môr.

 

Un o’r pethau gwaetha yw fod llengoedd o epaod hedegog arfog wedi cymryd lle Milisia'r Bobl Wlatgar a’r Ficeriaid Arfog. Ma’n nhw’n patrolio’r strydoedd, gorfodi cwrffyw, ysbeilio, ac ymosod ar unrhyw un digon twp i fentro mas ar ei ben ei hun heb ddiogelu’i hunan yn briodol gyda llach fflamllyd. Ma’r dinasoedd yn beryglus iawn nawr i’r rhai ac arnyn nhw arogl dynol ‘to. Ac eto, dyna’r nadredd adeiniog sy’n sleifio fel cysgodion rhewllyd drwy hunllef barhaol pawb, gefn nos a liw dydd, gan ddarllen ein meddyliau, gwylio’n pechodau, ceryddu, gorchymyn, beio, a chosbi gyda llais taranllyd fel rhyw ddraig hynafol o’n co’ ni’r hil ddynol.

 

Ond ma’na obaith eto, wi’n meddwl, gredwch chi fi. So popeth yn boen, dioddefaint, a cholled. Ma’na rai ohonon ni sy’n gwrthsefyll trawsffurfiad llwyr y Byd, rywsut. Ni’r gwrthodedig, yr anghofiedig, y brithgwn, y lliprynnod, y rhai amhur eu gwaed, hynny yw, falle. Ac wrth i’r Tlevkimvi ymrithio, dyna’r Grym Diatal yn dechrau llifo fwy chwim a chwyrn nag erioed o’r blaen. Wel, chwarae teg, ma’r laslances ddiog o Blaned ‘ma’n dihuno o’r diwedd, a chychwyn estyn ei chyhyrau. Fel ma’n digwydd, ma’ cryn nifer o’r gormeswyr gwirion ar yr ochr arall sy di trio amsugno’r pŵer wedi’u chwythu ymaith i pwy ŵyr ble ganddo, diolch i’r drefn. Ar y llaw arall, dyna aelodau newydd o’n Hurdd ni’n ymddangos o unman, yn ddynion, menyw, a chryts, yn fwyfwy aml. Wel, wi’n feddwl taw dewis dod yn aelodau wnân nhw, pan fyddan nhw angen ein help i stopio’u holl ddymuniadau, ofnau, a meddyliau eraill rhag dirhau, ac yn y blaen.

 

Am unwaith dyn ni i gyd yn yr Urdd (wel fwy neu lai) yn cydweithio i raddau helaeth, gan gofio’n haddunedau i atal y Byd rhag mynd rhwng y cŵn a’r brain yn dyddio ‘nôl i gyfnod ein sefydlwr Sorakados Ddewin. Gobeithio fod e’n falch ohonon ni wrth iddo’n gwylio’r rhai ffyddlon yn ein plith ni’n slafio fel lladd nadredd i achub y Ddaear, o’i orsedd ddur glas tu hwnt i’r sêr, yr hen walch. Hmm, a sôn am hen hocedwyr, falle bod Dai Procter yno gyda fe, wedi ffoi rhag yr holl stŵr dychrynllyd a gwaedlyd wedi’i gorddi yn sgil ei gynllwynion gorffwyll, a’i weithrediadau mwy byrbwyll byth. Wel, bid a fo am ‘ny, hyd yn oed o fan hyn, fe alla i weld y llecynnau o wrthsafiad yn egino a datblygu yn y drych sgrio mawr ar wal neuadd cerfluniau byw Gertrude yn ddwfn dan y Maenordy. (Sut naeth hi nhw, ni wn i fyth, bendith y Dienyddiau Annaearol arni! Falle bod hi'n defnyddio cerddoriaeth, iaith y Tair Hen Dduwies Hardd ac Anfad 'na, sy bob tro'n rhagori ar leferydd o ran ennyn emosiynau a chyflawni'i nodau heb yr un gair, yn nwylo ymarferwr celfydd o leia, er na all dyn ei rheoli'n hawdd iawn, gwaetha'r modd! Fel canu afon, neu wrthdaro cledd yn erbyn cleddyf, neu lif gwaed yw'i halawon atgofus a'i rhythmau gwyllt, sy'n gallu dofi cythreuliaid iâ a thân, agor drysau, a chreu bydoedd, medd Mamrick, hyd yn oed heb hud.) Ta be, ma’n rhwyd ni’n dechrau ymdaenu dros y Byd unwaith ‘to’n araf iawn, wrth i ni dyfu’n gryfach fesul mis.

 

Pan naiff pob hyfforddai ychwanegol ymrwymo i’n hachos yn gorff, meddwl, ac enaid, dyna fydd dafn bychan purddu arall o ambrosia byw’n ymddangos yn y crochan pres gwyrdd, fel dagrau Lushfé a dene Tefnuth i lawr i’r Isfyd, neu’r sylwedd cysefin greodd popeth arall. O ble ma’n dod, sai’n gallu dyfalu, rhyw Fyd Arall yr ochr arall i’r gofod mawr, synnwn i’m.

 

Ond un peth dwi’n siŵr ohono yw taw pan fydd y crochan yn orlawn fe yfwn ni’r hylif glân a dod fel yr uwch-arwyr yn yr holl gomics ‘na. Wel, does ‘na ddim pall ar obaith, on’d oes, sbo? Yn y cyfamser, falle bod ni’n dysgu rhywfaint gan y Tlevkimvi fyd, trwy’u hastudio mor agos atyn nhw wrth iddyn nhw ymosod arnon ni’n ddiorffwys. Ac yn wir, wrth i ni ddisgyblu’n meddyliau a chyfuno’n hewyllysiau, dyna rai ohonon ni’n llwyddo i ddiflannu o olwg eu draig hollweledol am sbel. Os gallwn ni ond eu dynwared i ryw raddau, fe fyddwn ni’n gallu treiddio’r llen a dianc o’r cylch o fodolaeth ‘ma. Ond be fydd yn digwydd wedyn, ‘dwn i’m.

 

Ta, be, fe a i i lawr i’r seler nawr i guddio rhag y chwilod baldorddus, ffiaidd sy di bod yn diffeithio’r wlad, gan draflyncu dail a chnawd fel ei gilydd. Wi’n gallu’u clywed nhw’n heigio tu fas, gan rincian eu malwyr a hisian siantau rhyfel mor fygythiol a byddarol, ond fedran nhw’m treiddio i mewn lawr fanna drwy’r ithfaen. O, hawyr bach, ma’ syllu mor astud ar yr holl globylau symudliw o sudd yn pwlsadu a chwyrlïo yn y crochan yn neud i ‘mhen droi a chodi pwys arna i. Ma’ fel ‘sen i’n gallu clywed lleisiau’n gweddïo mewn pob iaith yn yr Holl Fyd ar yr un pryd. Fe fydda i’n cael joch mawr o’r hen Olew Lethí (wedi’i echdynnu o’r maen glas enwog i’w gael yn yr ogofeydd ambr ar waelod y Cefnfor Berw), cyn setlo i lawr. Dyn ni’n credu fod e’n debyg i ddagrau Lushfé, ac yn gallu neud yn union be sy angen bob tro. Dyna pam na’th Nebesh hala’i gwas Lotké i lawr i’r Isfyd i drio dwyn y dafnau ariannaidd, amhrisiadwy oddi ar Swtach, wrth gwrs. Gobeithio bydda i’n cwympo i gysgu’n syth, a hala noson heb hunllef am newid, gan ddianc o’r glyn wylofain ‘ma am ennyd bendigedig, ond fetiwn i’m ar ‘ny. Dyma fi lly, Hlothrig Faland·ashé, Ffred Phantastig, Ffredrig Llwynlesg, yn cau pen y mwdwl am y tro.

 

 

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[*] Addesir y bennod hon o nodiadau wedi'u hysgrifennu ar bapur erwydd a recordiad sain y daethpwyd o hyd iddynt yn seler Maenordy Challavas.  Mae wedi'i chyhoeddi bellach yn “Gwir Chwedlau Gwerin o Galon y Cyfandir,” gan Pjetër Mamrick (casglwr), o recordiad sain gan Ffrederig Llwynlesg. — P.M.