The Night of Flaming Honey Mead

In the tapestry of time, before dawn unfurled and the gods walked separate paths, there existed a unity as vibrant as a sunrise. They reveled together, these deities of sky and earth, fire and sea, their laughter echoing across the nascent world. Their grand feasts, a celebration of victories won and seasons turned, were legendary. At the heart of these celebrations flowed the Flaming Honey Mead, a nectar brewed by celestial bees from the blossoms of starlight.   One moonlit night, as the revelry reached its peak, the golden mead flowed freely. Mortals, newly birthed and curious, lived on the periphery of the gods' domain. Amongst them, a young shepherd named Errai, captivated by the celestial music and the flickering firelight, dared to venture closer. He found himself on the fringes of the divine celebration, mesmerized by the radiant beauty of Izarre, goddess of the dawn.   Izarre, drawn to Errai's youthful innocence and the yearning in his eyes, shared a single cup of the Flaming Honey Mead with him. The mead, warm and alive on his tongue, ignited a spark within the mortal. Emboldened by the divine drink, Errai reached out and touched Aurora's hand.   A hush fell over the revelry. The gods, caught in a tableau of shock and outrage, witnessed a mortal breach the sacred boundary. Some, like Asterion the sun god, saw it as an act of hubris, a mortal daring to touch the divine. Others, like Jahitha, the earth mother, felt a pang of sympathy for Errai's innocent curiosity.   The night that followed was etched in the annals of time as the Night of Flaming Honey Mead. The once unified laughter of the gods turned into a cacophony of accusations. The celestial mead, once a symbol of unity, became a potent reminder of the transgression.   The debate raged on for an eternity, fracturing the once harmonious bond. In the end, the gods chose their paths. Some, like Asterion, retreated, guarding their divine power jealously. Others, like Jahitha, sought solace in the mortal realm, forever connected to the world Errai dared to touch.

The Flaming Honey Mead remained, a potent symbol of the night the gods divided. Mortals continued to whisper tales of its fiery touch and the forbidden taste that severed the bond between the divine and the mortal. The fate of Errai and Izrre, forever intertwined in that fateful night, became a cautionary tale, a reminder of the consequences of breaching boundaries and the lingering yearning between the celestial and the earthly.



Cover image: by Lady Wynter

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