November 14, 2004.

The daughters of Ontue

Back when the world was new, when the stars shone as brightly as diamonds in the night sky, the gods decided to amuse themselves and bring life to the barren globe below them. Their task lasted a million orbits of the sun, but finally it was done, and the gods rejoiced.

The gods looked down on their creation and saw a world teeming with life, with every manner of cloven beast and hoofed animal. Flora bloomed in the verdant glades, birds circled the sky, the oceans spilled their bounty onto pebbled shores and everywhere, the great cycle of life and death, of birth and renewal flowed through the seasons of the earth in a gentle rhythm. They were pleased with their creations, and most of all their favorite child, Man.

We must give him more than life, said the gods to each other. We must make Man more like us, and less like the beasts over which he has dominion. He deserves to see the world with wonder, to be able to make music and dream poetry, to assert his will over this world we have given him and play among his creations, as we have done.

I will give him wisdom, said the god of Wisdom. I will give him the gift of intelligence, so that he may learn and grow and reach the very limits of his imagination. He will be the wisest of all creatures, and will worship us all the more.

I will give him purpose, said the god of the Ambition. I will fill his heart with ambition for his time on earth. I will give him dreams that he will strive to fulfill, so that his every day will be an adventure towards his goals, and not merely a struggle for survival.

I will give him the gift of self-esteem, said the god of Pride. I will make him the only creature on earth who can know his own value, and feel esteem for himself and his accomplishments. He will know the pleasure of achieving his goals by his own effort and determination.

My gift will be extraordinary health, said the god of Life. He will outlive all other creatures, and never suffer a moment's ill health or suffering. His body will remain pure and perfect throughout the ages, so that he may continue to expand his greatness and explore his world.

From me he will receive benevolence, said the god of Abundance. He will be alone among creatures in that he can feel genuine affection and goodwill for his fellow man and fellow creatures of the earth. Seeing his own greatness, he will be generous and kind, and live in mutual respect and harmony with other Men.

I will give him sexuality, said the god of Love. I will give the gift of love to every man and woman so that they may enjoy each other's bodies and the act of love, so that their lives will be enriched with the delights of masculinity and femininity, and each will feel unique, necessary and important.

Finally, I will give him happiness, said the King of the gods. I will make his life on earth a true joy. I will make him smile at the start of every day and close his eyes at night with a contented sigh. I will fill his heart with the pleasure of being alive, and he will never know sadness, turmoil, or fear.

And so it was done. The gods drew together their gifts and bestowed them on man, who grew wise and benevolent, proud and purposeful, long-lived and blissfully happy in love.

But as man began to grow into these gifts, the gods became perturbed. Man was fearless now, and did not pray to the Gods for help or sustenance. He was more than capable of caring for himself and too proud to ask for help if he needed it. His wisdom grew to question whether the gods were necessary at all, and he began to set his sights on the stars, thinking that one day he could leave the confines of the earth and sail beyond them. Man was no longer a play toy or a needy child. He was god-like now, a god with no need for worshippers or something to worship.

The gods felt betrayed by their favored creation. They grumbled and cursed among themselves, causing the clouds below their feet to shake and rattle with their thunderous ire.

We must take these gifts back, the gods decreed. Man has abandoned us, he does not worship us as he should. But they knew they could not take the gifts back - they were as much a part of man now as the blood in his veins and the marrow in his bones.

Then the god of Memory intervened. I will put a spell on man, he said, as though he were sleeping, so that he might never remember these wondrous faculties he has. So powerful will this incantation be that only a scant few will ever be able to wrestle free from its hold; the rest of our creation will live as though a-slumber, and never know what bounty could be theirs. They will worship us again, and do our bidding, and never exceed their bounds. The gods agreed.

But the god of Wisdom disagreed. He loved man, and was proud of what man had grown into. He tried to persuade his brother gods to leave man as he was, to let him grow into what he would be, whether he worshipped them or not. Never, they thundered. Man's time has passed. And they warned him against favouring man with knowledge of this, lest he incur their wrath as well.

So one cloudless night, with the full moon bursting with light and the stars guiding his path, the god of Wisdom crept through the palace of the gods, to where each of his slumbering brothers lay. From each of them he secreted away some of the gifts they had bestowed on man, enough to blend together and fill a tankard of wine. Then he descended and spirited between the mountains of the earth, through the sleepy valleys and the misted forests, and happened upon a cottage in a thicket by a clear trickling stream.

Within he came upon a young farmer's wife, awake in the dark while her husband slept, kept from sleep by worry over the child growing in her belly. The god of Wisdom, disguised himself as a poor traveler and crept to her window to quietly beg for some bread and cheese and a rest by her fire, which she gladly gave him. As he warmed his feet at the hearth and partook of her simple food, he asked her what troubles kept her from her bed this night. She saw the world changing, she told him sadly. Where once men had been noble and good, hardworking and intelligent, now she saw them falling into lethargy and self-pity, clinging to the gods they once worshipped and turning against each other in jealousy and bitterness. She remembered clearly a time when men believed they could conquer the very stars above, but now she worried that her child's world would be filled with nothing but hardship and misery.

The god of Wisdom comforted her, and withdrew from his robes his tankard of wine. Let us drink to better times, he said, and poured the wine into her cup. Drink from this, he said. The child you bear will serve as a reminder to all men what strength and goodness they have in their hearts, and what wonders this world holds for those would break their bonds and choose to see it. The young wife drank the wine gladly, and fell into a deep slumber, so peaceful and gentle that she did not stir when the weary traveler slipped out of her cottage and disappeared into the night.

Many months later, the young farmer's wife gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, whom she named Ontue. From the moment of her birth, the child was unlike any other human being that had ever lived. She glowed with a divine beauty, and captured the hearts of all in the village who had never seen so pleasing a form or so heavenly a smile. And she grew into womanhood, her beauty only increased.

Where others had soft, small eyes, Ontue's were sharp and blue with the look of intelligence. Where others had furrowed brows from years of worry and strife, Ontue's face shone with a flawless smoothness, as though she had never seen anything but happiness. Where others had small, narrow chins and sunken eyes, Ontue's face was firm and determined. When others regarded the world with downcast eyes and pursed lips, Ontue held her head high and took in the world as though equal to any challenge it might invent to test her. She grew tall and strong, radiant with abundant health and appearing invincible. Her hair flowed about her in a cascade of silken chestnut, her breasts grew voluptuous and her body curved delicately to accentuate the feminine spirit within her. She was the most beautiful woman who had ever lived.

Whеrеvеr Ontυе went, men stopped their work to admire her beauty. Many sought her hand, but many more chose merely to admire her, and wonder at how such a creature could exist - and why. Men began to question what it meant, why the gods had chosen to bring such a vision of loveliness into the world. And as they pondered this question, the god of Wisdom watched them from above, urging them to remember, wishing he could but whisper in their ear that everything they needed to know was within them, they need only remember it.

It was all there, in Ontue. In her abundant beauty lay the answers to man's woe, lay the reminder of what men had once valued and could once again value if they would but open their eyes.

Ontue did marry, the finest man in her village, a man who had overcome the memory's god spell and used all the gifts the gods had given him. They had many children - fine, handsome, keen-minded children - but the girls born to Ontue and her husband were exceptionally so. Each grew to be as beautiful as her mother, and as they roamed the world with the spirit of adventure given to them by their father, they sought out other fine men to share their lives with.

That is why, even today, in even the farthest reaches of the world, there exist among the legions of Man a few possessed of extraordinary beauty. These are the daughters of a goddess on earth, the corporeal reminder of what the god of Wisdom so wished we would see. These are the Daughters of Ontue.

© 2004 by Body in Mind