Before the beginning of things, Day and Night were simply ideas, in perfect balance. This Earth was meant to always bask in Day’s light, or to while away eternity unraveling the mysteries of Night. Some accuse Day, or what would be Day once Time began, of stealing Night away and ravishing her. Others say that Night seduced Day, or that Night pitied Day’s bright burning certainties and gave her the gift of darkness. However it happened – and there are many more tales than these – in the end there was nothing to be done but to leave this world of ours a wonder and jest, where Day and Night both rule.
Their children are born uneasy and do not speak to each other. They are fey and beautiful and quite dangerous, and lead wayfarers astray. There are worlds where it is always dawn, or always dusk, and if you chose your moment, or have the fortune to have your moment chose you, they will take you to one. If the mood strikes, they may sometime bring you home.
My business was urgent and would brook no delay, yet I was no longer of those who are welcome to ride in the great Ship of Day. Neither could I comport myself as one who expects to be carried in the Moon’s arms as she makes her journey, attended by her resplendent lords and ladies. Dusk, though .. Dusk can be approached by anyone, if you chose your moment well.
So I stood at a slant to the grey hour and saw Dusk coming, poling his flat boat along himself. No great gods pull at oars for Dusk, nor does his boat run of itself for very love. Sundry dreams, as always, were trailing their toes in the water, for Dusk never refuses them a ride. Strange it was to see a great grizzled nightmare sitting amicably next to a small dream of mine which I had forgotten long ago. They had no common tongue, and spoke to each other in signs.