An Du-Ku's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

An Du-Ku ruled the highest heaven, but he could not reach the throne meant for him. It waited on the summit of the mountain called Du-Ku, the threshold where sky must meet earth. From there the first seeds of life would spring. An had descended toward it for a long age. Now, one step from the stone, a wall of darkness stopped him. It was old, older than his own light, and it clung to the peak like wet cloth. An pressed his hand into the black. Cold swallowed his fingers. He could not see the threshold beyond. He could not see his own arm. He pushed harder, and the dark pushed back. Something breathed inside it. A shape stepped out. A bull-man, taller than An, with great curved horns and powerful legs. Gold banded his arms. He fixed An with steady eyes and did not bow. He was a guardian, set here before An ever began his descent, keeping the boundary no god had crossed. "You are the Sky-Father," the bull-man said. "The seat is yours. But the dark is not mine to move. I only watch what guards it." "Then show me," An said. The guardian struck the ground with one hoof. Two more shapes uncoiled from the darkness. A serpent-dragon slid forward on eagle talons, its horned head low, its forked tongue tasting the air. Beside it rose a fish-scaled sage, half man, half creature of deep water, his eyes calm and ancient. "The darkness is knotted by three," the sage said. "Beast of the deep. Beast of the boundary. Beast of the storm. Cut one knot, and the peak opens. But the beast you spare will hate you." An understood the choice. He could not fight all three at once and hold his light against the dark. He looked at the guardian, who kept the threshold he needed. He looked at the dragon, coiled to strike. He looked at the sage, who spoke of hidden things. An chose the boundary. He seized the bull-man's horns. Light poured down his arms and into the guardian's chest. The guardian roared and gripped An's wrists, and the two strained against each other over the black. An forced him back, step by step, toward the edge of the summit. "You break the oldest law," the guardian said through his teeth. "I make a new one," An answered. He wrenched the horns sideways and threw the guardian down. The bull-man fell from the peak into the empty air below. The knot broke. The darkness tore open like a curtain, and light spilled across bare stone. An set his foot on the threshold at last. But the dragon and the sage remained. They had watched him cast their brother down. The serpent-dragon lowered its head and hissed. The fish-sage did not blink. "Now," the sage said, "two beasts remain, and both remember."