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.
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