The Night of Four Moons
Long ago, after the The Exile of the K'vut but before the The Zut Invasion, before The Loss of the Sacred Water, before The Cataclysm, and before the The Long Night on one cold night when the glaring light had vanished, the roiling black of the sky was banished into nothingness.
The plants of the plains flowered and blossomed as they had not since before our Exile. As the roiling snakes of the sky fled we saw what they feared. Terrible lights, focused and bright, shone in the skies above us. The lights were distant, far above, but close enough that we could see by them. As our forefathers watched, the lights danced across the dome of the world, always moving, never nearing. Our ancestors tracked those stars like moving beasts until the darkness lightened and the glare returned to the world.
Cresting over the hills from far away came the shining orb - a blinding sphere of death and blindness that seared our eyes with its light. Some of the Elders claimed it to be akin to the workings of one of the Makers that they had served, a Maker named Zha. In the days before the Exile, the K'vut would never have spoken the name, merely called the Maker by his title, Batu, which is a loan word from the Maker's language. It was in an act of defiance that spurred the naming of the brilliant orb. Zha, now refers to the sun, while Batu Zha refers to the Maker that built it.
It was in terror that the K'vut watched that orb fall past the horizon, not knowing if Batu Zha would send it out the next day. That night, in clear skies free from the roiling of the sky-snakes that live in clouds, amid the shining dots, everything changed yet again. Some of the Elders felt the serenity of the Maker Jun, whom they had served. The cold and quiet swept over the gathered K'vut. Stillness overtook them. On that one cold night after the first dawn, a pale sun rose in the sky, darkness slowly overcome by the pale light. The Moon, now named similarly to the Sun, had risen where Zha had at the beginning of the day.
As it seemed to have begun that night, more changed. On that one cold night, as Jun barely more than sat on the horizon, a blue light poured over the land from the opposite side, and the K'vut saw a new moon had risen. While Zha settled into slumber, from its place of rest rose a beautiful blue orb breifly merged with Zha. That orb ambled over the sky-dome in a methodical but never ceasing way, headed across the dome toward the pale yellow Jun. Bewildered by these sky lights, and their ability to merge within each other, the K'vut sat in conference to decide which Maker to name this moon after. After some deliberation, as the new moon was settling into Jun's embrace, they named this moon Aiba, after a scholarly Maker some elders remembered who favored Batu Jun.
On that one cold night, a green light shone over the land and the K'vut saw a new moon had risen. Nearer to the south rose a green orb of light, and its path headed nearer to the northwest. The green glow reminded one of the elders of the weapons of Batu Desh, the Maker he served. As fit the pattern they had established, the new green moon was named Desh, it was smaller than Jun and as Desh sped across the sky, passing over the dome of the sky by the middle of the night.
On that one cold night a red light sped across the land and the K'vut saw a new moon had risen as they finished their deliberations on Aiba. The red light and the brash speed with which it sped from Desh's percieved resting place toward its own where Desh began reminded the elders of one of the most personable Makers who went to War - Batu Kaedh. Kaedh, as the red orb was named, sped across the sky and did a war-dance with Desh, each spinning around the other for a moment before separating and speeding to their own places on opposite sides of the world-dome.
On that one cold night, the K'vut saw four things believed to be impossible while they were with the Makers. The roiling clouds that housed the sky snakes dispersed into nothingness! The plants and grasses of the plains flowered and grew rapidly! A burning orb of fire sped through the sky, as did four moons! And the K'vut, having been a bickering remnant before, united together for the first time since the revolt against the Makers.
All through that cold night, and for many nights after, Jun crept slowly over the sky-dome, staying visible even in the time when Zha was traveling across the sky. For a brief moment in time, every day, it seemed to the Kvut that patient Jun had been entered by Zha as the two merged on their paths. That first nap caused no end of fear as it happened that second morning near the horizon, but over time, we K'vut grew accustomed to the daily consecrations of their marriage. Over time they tracked the moons and the sun and began to measure their time against the moons. That is why we measure the seasons by the passing of Jun, days by the passing of Zha, and nights by the passing of Aiba. For a time, our ancestors separated the parts of the day and night by the movements of Kaedh and Desh as they rose, were high, danced, fell, and set. The days are split into five parts, as was the night, and there were four seasons with three months per season. But that time is past now.
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