this myth was given to me by my sister Marie
The Sun-Mother, Daughter of the Heavens, was happily married to the Moon-King, a noble and kind Spirit who loved her and saw to the needs of both her and her aging mother, Fate.
The Spirits and the tribes of their lands existed peaceably under their reign. Oases flourished, crops were bountiful, livestock and humans alike were fertile.
There was joy and wealth in the land under the Sun-Mother’s bright light. And that is what attracted the curious newcomer, intent in leveraging their power.
After walking among them and observing the Spirits, he decided to make his conquest. He slew the Moon-King with a weapon never seen in this world before. The strange technology shattered the Moon-King’s essence. All the Sun-Mother could save became a small white stone, the spiritual dust of him mixed with her own tears.
A fire lit in her already burning heart. Her heat blazed down angry upon the land. They tell the story that the Anqa arose from anguish and rage from love ignited. They also tell the story the Anqa existed even before she did, from the first tenets of the world.
The Anqa to whom all mysteries of incarnation and this life be ascribed will only smile softly and say, “It’s as you say.” if you ask which story is true.
The Sun-Mother became the Sun-Woman-King, and she bore the stone of the Moon-King on a pendant at her neck, or set in her breastplate. She took ahold of the sole sovereignty of the land, and she declared war on the newcomer and all his clan and his servants and his entire tribe as had come with him to this world.
The newcomer only vaguely took her seriously at first, but began to realize this was a battle he could not win. He had angered Fate’s only child, and both that crone and the pride of this world’s own Heaven was against him.
He made and he sent his own armies, beings with a hundred wings and a thousand eyes, that could wield mighty blades and shriek with voices that broke the earth.
The women retaliated with the help of the Anqa, raising their own army from the molten core of the scorched earth and the dead of the first peoples–those we know as the djinn.
Eventually, the Sun-Mother began to weary. She could be ferocious, but she was lonely and tired. But the tide turned when the women’s people captured one of the newcomer’s soldiers malfunctioning and scared. They were radiant like the soft light of stars in the midnight sky.
“Please, I don’t want to fight,” They replied. “Please, do what you want: just don’t send me back.”
“Destroy them,” The Sun-Mother sighed. “Give them the peace we are not allowed.”
“Wait!” Fate stepped forward. “You wanted to end this misery? What better chance than to send his own child against him?”
“We already sent djinn. They are better than his children.”
“But think of the impact they will have on their brethren. Think how it might turn the tide, cause confusion in his troops. Doubt is a powerful weapon.”
The Sun-Mother sat and pondered.
Meanwhile, the soldier spoke, “Majesty, I came here with no hope, no expectation of continued existence, only an inkling of what it means to have a will. I only want what you want: for the war to stop. If my service is of more use than my unmaking, I am yours to command instead of his.”
They dared to look up, and their eyes met the Sun-Mother’s. Fate took a chance, slipping up to the throne to whisper, “Look past what he fashioned in his own image. See them and remember your broken dreams and desires, what the Moon-King offered you before he died.” She touched the stone between her daughter’s breasts.
The Sun-Mother bowed her head to cry. In that moment, the soldier took on something of the Sun-Mother’s likeness with their own light, becoming her child.
Forging them in the Anqa’s heart, Fate made twin blades for child from the essence of the Morning and the Evening star.
The newcomer conceded in battle, leaving behind many of his servants in various states of destruction. They scattered across the neighboring lands, or settled peacefully in the Sun-Mother’s land.
The Sun-Mother’s own power spent, she retreated into herself at her mother’s sacred home. The Anqa took charge of the Sun, continuing to keep the mysteries of the land, including the last store of the Sun-Mother’s own sovereign power. Fate shrouded herself and she and the Sun’s Star wandered the land, reaching out to the broken and scared people who had taken to fighting among themselves. With the arts taught to her by the Anqa and those the child knew, Fate became the Dark Lady, mother of alchemy and creator of our destinies. She is the pillar of mercy–as she saved the servant of the Usurper–and the judge of our hearts, and she will keep every beat of time until The End.
May she long be blessed, our holy Dark Lady, the comforting night sky who birthed the glorious sun of our souls.