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The Father and Mother - __denby - 05-02-2026
The Father and Mother
Solidarity and Repose
Solidarity and Repose
It is the duty of men to question that which lies present in the world around them. However, the scope of human ingenuity and understanding can only go so far. Other races may believe that they possess something of note, yet even they- the Elves for their longevity, and the Dwarves for their craft, the Men for their resilience, cannot answer all questions. Who then, may? To know all, to answer all, is reserved for that which may have existed since time immemorial- the entities whose essence forms the very foundation of the world.
In druidic legend, there is told of two- the Father and Mother. Entities who have been present since the very dawn of Time Immemorial. They are not Divine, nay- in fact, quite the opposite. Not a shred of power beyond what has been granted by sheer age, is thought present in these mythical beings. A Stone and a Tree, two paragons of structure, of progress- of existence. Comprised however, not from the energies of the Awakening- but from the coalescence of matter. Little is fundamentally special about the two, beyond that they are both the First of their Kind. With Ancient things, lies Ancient knowledge- and knowledge, is power.
When one speaks of the legend of the Father, the essence of ordered stagnancy is embodied. Solidarity- strength, durability, weight, and erosion. That which forms the constructive essence of the World, the bonds and forms which make life possible. The Father embodies in druidic legend, the first form, the structure of this world’s genesis. An anchor, for all that is- all that was- and all that is yet to be. The Father was the first stone, that first speck of dust which began the formation of this cosmically insignificant world. Yet, despite its insignificance in relation to the greatness of the Beyond, we owe all to the Father, whose simple and worthless existence gave meaning to all that has been since the dawn of creation. Because of this, it is rumored that the Father, that Rock of Solidarity, is something of an other: A being of unparallelled pointlessness- unable to be damaged, unable to be moved, and unable to be changed by any interaction.
When one speaks of the legend of the Mother, the essence of chaotic progress is embodied. A duality to the Father, yet meaningless to him beyond that the Mother could only produce upon the loins of the Father. Without structure, life could not take root. Without Life, however- we, the races of this realm, could not exist. In relation however, the Mother’s existence is significantly less ominous than the Father- her age, countless eons younger. Caring, as all Life is, to the existence of the elements- though the elements care not for life. The Mother was the first Tree, the propagator of complex life. Whose roots gave birth to the space in which beasts that crawl and creep may propagate; Whose trunk gave birth to the nourishment in which lively fluids sprang forth; Whose branches gave safety to all that scurry and fly; Whose leaves gave salubrious feast to the dry and uncaring soil; and whose presence gave solace to the grasses from the power of the scorching sun. All that lives, owes the cost of survival to the Mother- yet, her duties being done, yet they care not. The Mother, after unending ages, has become the nourishment still, in death- to her spawn. Set astride a deep and fog-mired bog, there stands an ancient and sprawling oak, whose life long ago expired. Yet, no axe may marr the surface of this antediluvian monarch, at least not long after the bearer of that axe has expired and fed the uncaring earth, all that made him who he was. No storm may topple her, nor may any machination of science rule her- not till long after all that is, has gone away.
The Father and the Mother, embody the concepts of Solidarity and Repose, the essence of Nature that exists unchanging and permanent. Time may pass, and nations may rise and be forgotten- yet among all this, the atavistic presence of the two at whose hands sprawl all creation, remain unchanged.