The sky was beautiful – more so than the ground – and this angered Turon greatly. The other forgers and the beings that had come to be, all turned to Astra’s realm and were in awe of its beauty. But Turon, who has never been known for his calm demeanour, raged. He shook the ground in an earthquake so fierce that the ocean boiled and the mountains cracked, spitting fire over land and sea. Turon was not going to let Astra steal away the glory from his own grand creation. His first plan was a simple one. He would create something more eye-catching and wondrous than Astra’s starry sky.
Turon thought big, as he often does when he tries to think, and began forging three mountains taller than anything ever dreamt or thought of before. Three gargantuan stone structures hiding treasures of precious metals and ores. He built one teeming with gold, one with a core completely made of silver and the third and largest one he built with tough and strong iron. He made them higher and higher trying to reach the closest stars, but Astra had placed them too far away and too far apart for him to reach. When he had reached the limit of his power and could no longer make them higher or wider, he stopped. Standing on top of the tallest of the three peaks he could barely see the world beneath him. Yet the stars were still out of reach. And while the peaks were impressive and awe inspiring their silhouettes only seemed to enhance the starry sky behind it. Turon, of course, was furious. Instead of hiding the sky he had only enhanced it by introducing contrast.
Struck down by this failure Turon decided to do something very dangerous. To change the very nature of things. He began with the golden mountain. He set his will, his mind and his command on this task. He made it so that every living thing would be drawn to gold. He made it so that creatures would strive to possess it and plants would grow towards it. He put his will, his mind and his command on this task and it became so. Trees started growing branches towards the golden mountain. Life began to thrive beneath its cliffs. Turon looked around and was pleased. Then he saw the ocean. The vast and rich domain of Ocra, forger of the seas. Its lush life and its waves seemed unaffected by the shimmering gold.
Turon then turned to the second mountain. The one made of silver. He set his will, his spirit and his command upon it and made it so that the sea and the waves always would flow towards it. He set his will, his spirit and his command upon this and it became so. The waves all started crashing against the mountainside and Turon was pleased. As he looked around a second time he found that everything wanted to be near his creation. To be a part of it. Everything but the things that dwell in the sky. The clouds, the winged beings of the wind and above all, the stars. So Turon turned to the third mountain, the one made of iron and he got to work. This time he needed to go big. And this was the mountain to do it, he thought. It was the largest object ever imagined. He set his strength and all of his will upon the mountain to make it so that all things would be drawn to it. Stars, beings, water, and wind. He set his will, his strength and his command upon this and it became so.
Water fell from the sky, ran down the mountains and made the rivers. Apples fell from trees and roots dug deeper into the earth. The wind howled and the stars… the stars came crashing down from the heaven. First to fall where the biggest and brightest. The lights of the world. They plunged towards the cliffs, shattered and bored their way through the rocks and hid deep in the mountains becoming crystals, gems and diamonds.The realm was thrust back into darkness.
Only then did Turon begin to realise his mistake. He tried to stop what he had begun, but what has been willed cannot be undone. He had changed the mountain and it would not change back. So Turon mustered all of his might and tried to break the mountain with his fist. He punched it so hard that it shattered. It broke with such force that its pieces flew across the plane. The bigger pieces made new mountains and mountain chains. Others landed in fields and on plains. Most fell into the ocean where they made islands or were ground into sand. The smallest pieces scattered across all of creation spreading the power of Turon’s will thin. But it was still there, pulling things towards the ground should one forget to hold them. And since nothing can break Turon’s will, so it will be until the end of all things.
The breaking of the mountain was enough to stop the starfall. But he was too late. The damage was done and the lightbringers had already fallen. Left were only the smallest and most distant of Astra’s jewels. And although they were many, their light was not enough to light up the world.
The beings and the forgers were devastated. For they had lost a thing most beautiful. Maru went into a deep silence. Ocra raged and spat, whipping the sea to a storm. Astra wept at the loss of her stars. But she was not angry. Turon was angry, at Astra, at the stars and at the mountains. But truly, deeply, they all knew he was most angry with himself. This was not the first time his pride had caused trouble (and it was not the last).
It was decided that as retribution for what he had destroyed Turon was to give the two remaining mountains to Astra. Although not as grand as the iron mountain had been, they were still grand and pulled at the world around them. Turon grudgingly agreed. The mountains and their riches would be Astra’s to command.
Astra went to work on the mountains. She took them one by one and shaped them into giant orbs. One golden, more beautiful than anything. One silver, so shimmering it could have been mistaken for a star if it hadn’t been so huge. She gave the silver orb two names. First a name for us to call it by, so that we may know it in the sky. Secondly a secret name, the hidden true name. A name that holds power in itself. And as she spoke it, the orb came to life and shone with a pale bright light.
The golden one she only gave one name. The name we know it by today. Instead of a secret name she leaned closed to the golden orb and gave it one single kiss. As soon as her lips touched the gold, it burst into flame and burnt brighter and hotter than anything and everything. It shone, brighter than any star had ever shone before. So bright it scared away the stars and turned the black sky pale. She set them both, golden orb and silver, in the sky, to dance across the plane, sharing the heaven between them. Giving the trees the golden Sun to reach towards and the waves the silver Moon to follow. This dance is what we now call day and night.
And now you know the story about how Turon’s pride made it so that the Fae have days, nights, a sun and a moon and that every time we let go of something, we can almost always be sure it will land on the ground.
This is just one of the stories from when the Fae was still young and the forgers walked among the mortals. Many are the tales, myths and legends of the forgers, but few stories are so grand as those who involve Turon. He is in many ways the mightiest of the forgers. Strongest in will. But brawn is not wisdom, and strength is not knowledge, and so he is less without than he is together with his kin.