The Chronicles of Infel


Once upon a time…

In an endless universe

In phantasmagoric eternity

 A Goddess created a world.


. . .


In the white realm of Heaven, where the sky was gold and blue, and the grass was gold and green, the Gods looked out at an empty universe. They began, in their youth, to fill it with dust and with colors and with the things their minds could think of.

They created.

The made light, and sound, and dancing stars. They made earth and water. They painted the cosmos in every way they found they could. And with their gleeful curiosity at the limits of their strength, they gave meaning to an empty eternity.

And the universe was good.

But in all that they created, in all the Gods had done, nothing had been made that they truly, desperately loved. Nothing had come from their hands that they found was perfect. Nothing challenged them, nothing surprised them. Nothing tugged at their heart with the promise that it one day might be more than they imagined—more than they intended.

Nothing existed that they thought to be earnestly, magnificently, profound.


Until the day that the Gods, in their Heaven, found a world.


Found, of course, because they did not know where it had come from. None among them claimed to have made it, none before had seen it. It appeared one day in the sky of their home, a mysterious, brilliant orb. Where it truly was in the wide, wide universe was a mystery. But it was there, hanging in their sky that mirrored the cosmos, and it called to them like the distant lap of waves upon the seashore.

It was a world of colors. Azure took the sea, and emerald brushed leaf and forest. Amber and rich molten crimson made up the land, and soft flakes of tan scattered beaches and deserts. White was in the wind, black was in the deep places, and as the globe sailed swiftly around the stars, the sky, a hanging canvass, changed from a fiery pink to orange, grey, and finally to a quiet, midnight blue.

But that was not the half of it. This world teemed with life unbound, ever shifting, ever moving, ever changing. Plants and animals and creatures the Gods could never have dreamed of roamed the earth and the seas. They grew bigger, smaller, some became new and others disappeared entirely, all with the passage of time.

Not even the world itself stayed static. New land was made in fiery bursts, old earth drowned in torrents of lightning and rain. It rose and was devoured from and by the vast, endless sea.

The Gods looked upon this world with amazement—and with awe.


They sought it with great fervor. Many times they left to chase it. Always it proved a failure. The universe was too large, too wide and open, and the world was so small.

And so the Gods became content to merely watch it from their Heaven. When time permitted, and their duties were done, they laughed and wondered and gossiped over how it may have come to be, and over the many things that lived on it. They smiled, were filled with joy, when new things appeared. They were melancholy at times, when the things they liked vanished. But always they wondered, when they stopped to look at that chromatic gem that hung within their sky, from where it had come from.

They wondered and puzzled and questioned.

And the eons dragged on.


Then, one day, they found their answer.


One day, in a time not at all significant, dictated not at all by fate, but instead by a simple error in judgment…

…a falling star crashed upon the earth.


At a time when no one should have been looking, while the World in the sky was so low on the horizon that no one should have noticed, a falling star crashed to the earth. In its bright and shimmering light, it caught the attention of the people it had meant to go unnoticed by.

The Gods gathered in their Heaven, watched the star soar. They watched as it crashed to the earth, landing upon the soil in a brilliant splash like rain. It erupted into the air in sparkling, golden droplets.

And the star, the Gods were surprised to see, was one of their own kin.


A young Goddess walked the earth, smiling and vibrant. She began with her magic to shape and change the land. She widened valleys, nurtured trees and soil, grew fruit and grass and flowers and vines, and let snow fall across forests and plains. She shifted mountains, carved rivers, and made, with her thin hands, all of the things that the Gods so adored.

The Gods in Heaven stood aghast. Delighted at their question’s resolution yet dumbstruck at this revelation, they wondered at the meaning. Why had this Goddess not told them she had found the place they had for so long sought? Had she wanted to keep it to herself? Had she thought to hoard it, enjoy it all on her own? While still knowing how often the others looked to it in wonder?

Jealousy began to brew within the Gods.

But then, quite unannounced and very much to their surprise…

…alone on her world, at the morning dawn, the Goddess began to sing.

She sang.

She sang, and her voice dispelled their jealousy. She sang, and her voice melted their hearts. She sang, and from her song, new things began to appear. She sang, and earth and wind and rain took shape. She sang, and let drop from her body white droplets of her own blood. She sang, and the elements together began to form.

Long, slender shapes. Strong, curved muscles. Creatures that, to the God’s amazement, mirrored their creator in every way. Mirrored themselves in every way. Beautiful faces, graceful features, slender limbs and fingers, warm, inviting eyes.

These creatures stepped down upon the earth the Gods loved. Creatures who were beautiful; creatures who were like them.

And their creator had pulled them happily from her own flesh, and her own blood, and her own soul.

It was clear to the Gods, then, in their crowd stilled by silence, that this Goddess had not found the world they loved. She had created it.


All of Heaven was quiet when the Goddess returned. She stepped from the universe into her realm, and all eyes were suddenly upon her. Heaven was deathly still.

The Goddess froze. Panic welled inside her. Could they have seen it? Surely they must have seen it. Surely they must know, must be furious. But…


She had not lied to them. Never! She had never claimed not to have made it. She had never set out to deceive them.

The Gods broke the silence. They asked her: was it she who had created that magnificent world?

Yes, she replied. But she was not finished. She had more to say!

Yet her throat was dry.

Then the Gods asked another question. Why did you not tell us, they asked.

A long while passed.

“Because you grew to love it so much,” the Goddess said at length. “Because you marveled at it so. I worried that if you knew, if you thought you might have influence over it, you would try and shape it to your desires. I thought that you might coax me into changing it to your whims, that if you saw something you believed was a flaw, you could tell me to change it.”

“But it is not your world. It is my world! It is my idea of perfection. It is of my design. Not mine and another’s, not mine and a hundred’s, but mine and mine alone. Is that so wrong? Is it wrong of me, who has made something precious to her, to want to build it in the way she desires? Was it wrong of me to worry that, from your zeal, you might try to change it merely by your love of it?”

And the Goddess paused.

“I would not have hidden it forever,” she said. “Only until I was ready to show it. Only until it was finished in my eyes. Because, if it were finished—if it had been presented to you in its entirety, you would not feel it could be changed. Perhaps you may have had ideas on how it might have been better, but you would, at least, have accepted it in the way that it was.”

And the Goddess was so frustrated and so embarrassed, that she hid her face and fought back her emotions.

“And you; you all saw me in my most vulnerable moment. Your eyes were on me as I performed something more dear to me than all else. I do not want to be criticized, for I am not seeking it. I do not want to be appreciated, for that was not my purpose. I merely wanted to create something in the way I meant to create it!”

The Goddess slipped slowly into frustrated tears. She turned away, knelt down, and buried her face in her hands.

The other Gods looked from one to the other. For a moment they pitied her sadness.

Then they smiled, filled with empathy and compassion. They walked forward, placed their hands on the Goddesses’ shoulders, and called her name.

The Goddess looked up.

“Won’t you share your world with us? We are quite in love with it, you know.”

The Goddess stood, and wiped her tears.

“You are not upset?” she asked.

“Upset?” they laughed. “No.”

They pulled the Goddess to her feet, and looked into her eyes.

“We are in awe of you,” they said.