Mother Universe

Each and every tale, new and old, forgotten and hazily remembered, begins and ends with something greater than the tale itself. Every tale, for words cannot stand alone for long …

This little epic, my friends, is no different.

To begin something as encompassing as The Valla’s tales may turn out to be, one needs to begin with the spectacular concept in which all life resides.

The Universe.

Lifegiver and Life-bearer, one may only equate such vastness to a woman. She is already eternally ancient, older than all time, yet she is younger than a babe in the womb. She is moody, volatile, quiet and serene; she nurtures and succours, and is also truly unpredictable and extremely dangerous.

Lo, she destroys as easily as she creates … however, let it be known, this is neither an evil nor a good deed. This is fact and she simply is. There is within her no frenzy or action that is willfully conceived, nor is there whim, punishment or fantasy; she has no personal agenda.

Parts of her are known to many, other areas will become known  in the fullness of time, while the enormous majority of her intricate spaces may never be discovered … much less understood. Hidden behind the veils of impassibility, those infinite regions will only ever be guessed at, speculated upon, perhaps scientifically calculated … and will there be a certainty in existence to prove the validity of the science?

The Universe is mother, sister, daughter, lover and friend. She is a Goddess. The Mother Goddess who features so prominently in so many and such varied tales. The all-seeing and vulnerable Mother, for she is all-powerful … and utterly helpless.

Moving inexorably on, across and beyond all boundaries, she is simultaneously in control of and at the mercy of those lesser than her.

Here one must name those mysterious entities … for they are the subjects of this tale.

Sentient creatures, my friends, sentient beings. The concept ‘sentience’.

Moody and volatile, quiet and serene, nurturing and succouring, sentient beings are the faces of the Mother Goddess, her engendered likeness, but, lo, there is frenzy, there is action willfully conceived, there is whim and fantasy, as there is punishment, and each individual agenda is personal … for such is the nature of sentience.

In this lies the danger to the Goddess, for destruction is as easily conceived of as are creative energies, with due forethought, with terrible consequence, with blind stupidity … or utter uncaring.

They are good or evil or a strangely contradictory amalgam of the two.

Therein lays the meaning of these words.

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