Creation of the Gad Fly
Paul H. Kogel
Part II of "The Ancients"
The Descent of the Lady of Light
The Lady of Light, the Eternal One, and blessed of all things good and pure, found burning within her heart a desire for knowledge; for she grew weary of her own sweetness and naivety. So, she purposed in her heart to descend deep into the underworld, which is called Kur by those who dwell there, and Chaos by those who do not. She would descend to face the shadow of her own image and learn of the things on the other side of life.
Adorned in the golden garments of her station, she commanded at the first gate of Kur, but her way was barred with great contempt and guards were placed to secure the gate. So, she knocked and knocked and did not tire until her persistence brought the Gate Keeper once more from his place of lodging. This time she did not command, but bargained with the Gate Keeper. She was stripped of a piece of her royal gilding, and granted entrance through the first gate. She bargained like this at all the seven gates, and entered Kur as mortals are born in the Realm of Order, naked and helpless.
Now stripped of all her grandeur, clothed only in her burdensome naivety, she fell to her knees and wept, for sorrow clung heavy to the very air of this realm. She was lost and could not bear up to the dark side, to Kur the realm of Chaos, and even to her very own shadow. She had been forewarned, by the Lord of Wisdom of the loss of station that she would be forced to endure, but she could not endure it and greatly regretted her folly.
So she wept until her weeping caused such a disturbance that the creatures of Kur petitioned the Queen of Shadows to deal with this immortal from the realm of the gods.
And so she did.
The Queen of Shadows fell upon her and binding her, brought her into the darkness, which dwelt in the dungeons below her palace. The Lady of Light was devoured by the deep. She was chained to the wall and hung there until the flesh rotted off her bones. Mortality had entered the Eternal One and Death had taken its due. But her spirit had never ceased from weeping, and it wept from the echoing Halls of Doom.
Then the Lord of Wisdom had pity on her and moved on her behalf. He fashioned two creatures to act as his agents and to attempt a rescue of the Lady of Light. The two creatures were of no gender, had no names and were not bound to the laws of nature, for they were created for just this purpose and no other. So they transformed themselves into flies, and secretly slipped through cracks of the Seven Gates of Kur and entered the realm of Chaos.
They petitioned the Queen of Shadows for an audience with the promise of a gift, and were, with a great deal of coercion, allowed to speak with her. Her majesty was not alarmed by their appearance, for many strange creatures dwelt in her realm, and she listened to the agents and to their bargain.
“We know that in Kur there is much sorrow, and that your majesty is weary of the weight of it, even within this palace,” said the first agent. “We are able to grant you, by the grace of the Lord of Wisdom, a measure of solace and peace within these walls.”
“This gift we would bargain,” said the other, “for the fulfillment of our Lord’s desire.”
“And what would be your Lord’s desire?” she asked. “Tell me quickly, for I must say, your offer is truly an intriguing one.”
“He would that we bring out from Kur, the Lady of Light,” said the first.
Then the Queen of Shadows was sorely grieved. Had she erred by stealing away the Lady’s immortality? Had she done more than could be forgiven her? She had acted in haste, annoyed by the pleadings of her subjects. It was not her fault, she had convinced herself, but she feared she could not hide the truth from the Lord of Wisdom, whom she knew was held in the All Mighty One’s most high regard. The Lord or Wisdom was the only one of the Ancients that she feared nearly as much as the One.
“Does your Lord know the present state of your Lady?” She poorly hid her dread of their reply.
Again, the first one spoke saying, “Yes, he knows that she has forever lost her place among the Ancient Ones. He can bring her back, but not to immortality; for the Shadow of Doom is forever upon her, and Chaos Fire shall burn within her all the days of her life.”
Then fear struck the Queen anew; for she saw visions of scourging and blame. “It was not my fault…” she protested in agony, no longer attempting to conceal her dread.
“Forgive my interruption,” said the second one, “but my Lord seeks no retribution, and holds you to no account in this matter. He only wishes to bring her out of Kur and into the realm of mortals.”
So the bargain was struck, and the Lady of Light was brought out from the pit of Doom, out of the darkness of Chaos and placed into the realm of Order. She took an elfish name and lived for several millenniums upon the Earth, for her mortal blood was mixed with the blood of the Ancient Ones. She lived a life rich with adventure, and was a blessing to the inhabitants of the Earth, until once again, Death came to claim her and she perished from the face of the Earth.
But the legend does not end there.
The Birth of the Gad Flies
Of all the creatures that have entered Kur, few have ever returned. But none of them return unchanged, and so it was with the two agents of the Lord of Wisdom. In their blood, they carried the poison of the dark side, and its effect became manifest in them wickedly. They too, for the darkness in their hearts, were relegated to the realm of Order. But they could not grow old and could not die unless killed at the hands of a mortal.
They lived long upon the earth and grew bitter, for in the realm of Order they were now subjected to the laws of nature and could not transform from the image of a fly. And they grew angry at their loneliness, for they were created without gender, and could not produce others of their kind. So they slipped secretly once more, through the Seven Gates of Kur, and were again granted audience with the Queen of Shadows.
“Once more you enter my realm uninvited,” the Queen remarked upon seeing them enter her court. “If it were not for the pleasant outcome of our previous encounter, I would have you locked away where your slippery forms could not escape.”
“We know that it is within your right to do so, your majesty,” replied the first, “and that we would have no cause to protest against you, for we come this time not at the behest of a god, but of our own accord.”
“Once more I find you intriguing,” replied the Queen. “The last time we spoke, you had the strength of your Lord to stand upon. And very well did you stand. Now, what has become of him? Or is it you who have erred this time?”
They told her of their plight, and how Chaos Fire flowed through their veins. They explained their terrible loneliness in the realm of Order, and how they could not transform from the image of a fly.
“We are soundly caught in the grasp of Nature,” said the second creature, “and she will not allow us to reproduce; for it was the will of the Lord of Wisdom from the beginning, that we not do so.”
The Queen of Shadows considered their tale and wondered quietly for a time before speaking another word. If the Lord of Wisdom once created them and commissioned them to his will, could she bend them now and control them as her own agents against him? Did she dare?
“What of your Lord?” Caution won her over.
They hung their heads and the second creature cried, “Abandoned, forsaken, we have been forgotten.”
“Could it be,” still reaching out cautiously, “that he saw in Order less grievance than in Limbo? Could he not have felt that life in Order would be better than no life at all?”
“We are not immortal,” replied the second one, “and we know that we cannot live among the Ancients, but we can no longer bear our loneliness in Order.”
“What would you have of me?” asked the Queen. “And what can you grant me in return? You have no lord to stand with you, and therefore no power to enforce your will.”
“We have power enough to grant you this,” the first one began, “that if you give unto us the power to produce others of our own kind, and in our likeness, we will ward them over into your service for as long as there shall be our kind upon the face of the Earth.”
Now the Queen of Shadows had great insight of the ways of the gods, and though she could not always discern their motives, she was quite adept at descrying their methods. She studied the pitiful creatures for long moments, allowing her sorcery to probe their making. She found that the power of birth had not been denied them per se, but that they had never been given the ability in the first place. It had not been commanded of them as law, but that since they had only the one purpose, the ability had never been given them.
She also knew that if these two agents of the Lord of Wisdom would call upon him and request this deed, he would most likely grant it. But the creatures did not know this, for the Chaos Fire within them clouded their reason and the thought had never occurred to them. The Queen of Shadows knew how to turn this to her advantage. She would grant them the desire of their hearts, produce in them the essential organs, and they would never know that they had no need to strike such a bargain with the Courts of Chaos. She would, at last, have agents of her own outside of Kur.
So their request was granted and once they returned to Order, they found within them the ability to bring forth eggs. So, the two who were created for only one purpose, now had a purpose of their own, and the Gad Fly are their off-spring.
But their second visit to Kur had filled them to completeness with Chaos Fire, and it now burned hot in their blood. Darkness had consumed them, and their poison was passed down to every generation. Through the annals of time, decades upon decades, century after century, the Gad Fly’s poison brought much grief to the inhabitants of the earth. If not for their scarcity, for they reproduce very slowly - as true nature was not in it but the fires of Kur alone - who can tell what horror they might have wrought throughout the realm of Order?
Their descendants are with us to this day, and although, by the space of time, their poison has become diluted, it is said that a single bite from a Gad Fly can steal sight from the eyes of a human and bring palsy to the limbs of an elf.
Part II of "The Ancients"
© 2006 Paul H. Kogel. All Rights Reserved.