Tiribtalla Legends and Myths Anthology I: Story of Creation and Birth of the Younger Gods
(South Cordilian Studies, General Anthropology, Religious Studies, Literature, Ancient History)
Collected and Translated by PUZ Yayyára & PULA Panata
Story of Creation
In the beginning, there was only the Churning Void, a realm without form or purpose where chaos roamed unchecked. From this abyss, Kalutir, the Allfather, rose with a hammer forged in the primal fires of existence. His breath was molten heat, and wherever his footsteps fell, sparks erupted into stars. He was a solitary being of unyielding power, tasked by fate itself to shape the world from raw chaos.
Alone in the boundless expanse, Kalutir wielded his mighty hammer, striking against the fabric of the void. With each blow, the deep waters of the world surged forth, steaming and turbulent, while great mountains erupted from beneath the waves. Rivers carved paths through the land as valleys yawned open in the wake of his creation. The seas boiled under his hammer’s heat, and though the land was vast and mighty, it remained harsh and lifeless—a realm of fire and stone yearning for balance.
It was then that Arkanaari, the Giver of Light and Life, beheld Kalutir’s labor from the celestial realms. She was radiant, woven from the very essence of stars and starlight, her laughter like the song of winds brushing across the endless skies. Compassion moved her heart as she witnessed the Allfather’s relentless toil and the barren beauty of the world he had forged.
Descending from the heavens on a shimmering bridge of rain and light, Arkanaari approached Kalutir. Her radiance illuminated the mountains and valleys, and the boiling seas calmed at her touch.
“Why do you toil alone, mighty Kalutir?” Arkanaari asked gently. “This world is fierce and wondrous, but it yearns for balance and harmony. Allow me to walk beside you, that we may together weave life and light into this creation.”
Kalutir, his voice deep as thunder, replied, “I have forged mountains, seas, and valleys with my hammer, but I cannot breathe warmth into this world. If you wish to aid me, let your starlight temper the fire of my forge and bring life where only stone now reigns.”
Together, Kalutir and Arkanaari reshaped the world into a realm of beauty and wonder, a place destined to be called Kraua.
Kalutir struck the earth with his hammer, raising towering mountains crowned with fire and mist. The mighty ranges of the Luzayyagaz and Alkantarak Mountains were born from these blows, strong and eternal. As he molded the lands, rivers surged forth from the fissures, fed by molten springs beneath the surface.
Arkanaari followed in his footsteps, tempering the heat with gentle rains and the cool breath of winds. Where she walked, deserts blossomed into fertile plains, valleys bloomed with wildflowers, and shimmering lakes mirrored the skies. She whispered to the stars, bidding them watch over this new world, and their light danced upon the waves of the great seas.
As Kalutir hammered the cliffs that would guard the coastline, Arkanaari crafted the skies, filling them with clouds that wept nourishing rains. She painted the firmament with hues of dawn and dusk, setting the rhythm for day and night.
When their labors neared completion, Kalutir lifted his hammer one final time, and with a mighty strike, he forged the Heartfire, a great molten core deep beneath the surface that would sustain the warmth of Kraua for all time. Arkanaari, in turn, wove a luminous web of stars above, creating a celestial map to guide those who would one day traverse the land and seas.
With Kraua forged and balanced Kalutir, the Allfather, gifted the mountains with resilience and the rivers with strength. “Let the bones of this world stand firm against the storms of fate,” he decreed. While Arkanaari, radiant mother of life, whispered blessings upon the lands and seas. “Let this world be abundant, a place where life may thrive and flourish beneath the stars.”
Their work complete, the two divine creators stood atop Mount Alkantarak, marveling at their creation—a world of rugged peaks, fertile valleys, shimmering seas, and endless skies.
Birth of the Younger Gods
Long ago, when the world was young and the fires of creation still smoldered in the depths of the earth, Kalutir, the mighty Allfather, stood atop Mount Alkantarak, shaping the mountains and valleys with his great hammer. Sparks from his forge flew into the sky, becoming stars that shimmered in the night. His heart was fierce but solitary, for no companion walked with him across the rugged peaks he had shaped with his hands of stone and flame.
One fateful night, a radiant light pierced the heavens. The stars trembled as the celestial realms parted, and Arkanaari, the Giver of Light and Life, descended to the mortal world on a bridge woven from starlight and rain. Her hair shimmered like the dawn, and her robes glowed with hues of the setting sun. Flowers bloomed wherever her feet touched the earth, and rains fell gently in her wake, nourishing the barren land.
When Arkanaari first beheld Mount Alkantarak, crowned with molten fire and cloaked in smoke, she was awestruck by its fierce beauty. Drawn by the sound of Kalutir’s hammer, which echoed like a heartbeat through the mountains, she ascended the treacherous slopes until she found the Allfather at his forge. Kalutir, his beard thick with ash and his eyes like embers, paused his labor as the brilliant goddess approached.
“Who are you, radiant one, who walks unburned through my fires?” Kalutir rumbled, his voice like grinding stone.
“I am Arkanaari,” she replied with a voice as soft as the morning breeze, “the Bringer of Rains, the Weaver of Light. I have come from the celestial realms to see this world that sings with your labor.”
Kalutir, who had never known awe, felt his heart stir. “Then stay, Arkanaari,” he said. “For though I have forged mountains and valleys, they lack life and color without your touch.”
So she stayed with Kalutir on Mount Alkantarak, and together they shaped the world anew — he with his hammer and she with her radiant light. Rains nourished the valleys, rivers coursed through the land, and green life sprang forth where once there had been only ash and stone.
In time, their union bore fruit. On a night when the sky blazed with meteors and the earth trembled with joy, Arkanaari gave birth to four children, each embodying a unique aspect of their parents’ divine powers.
The eldest child, Kevhirra, Keeper of the Harvest, was born with hands that made the land fertile and golden. As a baby, wherever he crawled, plants sprang up, laden with fruit and grain. He grew strong, wise, and gentle, a guardian of abundance and life.
Born in a mighty tempest that swept across the mountains, Velakar, Lord of the Tides and Storms, emerged with eyes that glowed like lightning and a voice that boomed like thunder. Even as a child, his moods were wild and unpredictable, but his heart held a fierce loyalty to his family.
Vyranaz, the Lady of the Valleys, was born under the veil of night, with shadows cradling her like a mother’s embrace. She walks between the realms of life and death, speaking in dreams and guiding souls across unseen paths. Gentle yet mysterious, she holds dominion over night, death, and the calm, quiet places of the world.
The youngest of the four, Talen, God of War and Honor, was born amid sparks from Kalutir’s forge. His infant cries were like the ringing of steel, and he grew with a fiery resolve, embodying both honor and strength. Even as a child, he wielded a small hammer, mimicking his father’s work with pride.
The children grew up atop Mount Alkantarak, playing among the clouds and valleys shaped by their parents. Kevhirra taught his siblings how to coax life from the soil, while Velakar summoned storms that drenched the mountain in rain. Vyranaz led them through hidden paths, showing them secret glades cloaked in twilight. Talen, ever eager to prove his strength, crafted weapons from fallen meteor shards, sparking playful duels with Velakar that often ended in thunderous laughter.
Kalutir watched his children with pride, teaching them the ways of endurance and transformation, while Arkanaari nurtured their hearts with compassion and joy. Together, the Allfather and the Giver of Light shaped their divine offspring into protectors of the world, each destined to play a vital role in its balance.
Yet even as joy reigned on Mount Alkantarak, whispers from the abyss foretold trials to come. The harmony forged by Arkanaari and Kalutir would soon be tested, as shadows stirred in distant realms, and the younger gods would be called upon to defend the world they cherished.
As the younger gods grew in power and wisdom, their laughter and joy echoed across the peaks of Mount Alkantarak, filling the world with light and life. Yet, even as harmony reigned, Arkanaari felt a stirring in the celestial winds— a whisper of unease that tugged at her radiant heart. One evening, as the stars shimmered above and the fires of Kalutir’s forge cast long shadows across the mountain, she gathered her children in the sacred grove where the first trees had sprung from her touch.
“My beloved children,” Arkanaari began, her voice soft yet carrying the weight of the heavens, “the world we have shaped together is beautiful and bountiful, but it is not without peril. Beyond the edges of creation, in the depths of the Churning Void, a shadow stirs. It is a force older than time, a remnant of the chaos that once ruled all. It seeks to unravel the balance we have forged, to plunge the world back into darkness.”
The younger gods listened in silence, their faces reflecting both awe and apprehension. Kevhirra, ever the calm and thoughtful one, spoke first. “Mother, if this shadow threatens the world, we will stand against it. We are your children, and we will protect what you and Father have created.”
Arkanaari smiled, but her eyes were filled with sorrow. “The shadow is cunning and patient. It will test you in ways you cannot yet imagine. It will seek to divide you, to turn your strengths against one another. Remember this: only by remaining united can you hope to withstand its power.”
Velakar, his eyes flashing like lightning, clenched his fists. “Let it come! I will summon storms to tear it apart!”
Vyranaz, her voice as gentle as the night breeze, placed a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Anger alone will not defeat it, Velakar. We must be wise as well as strong.”
Talen, ever eager for battle, raised his small hammer. “I will forge weapons to strike it down! No shadow will dare challenge us!”
Arkanaari’s gaze softened as she looked upon her children. “You are brave and true, but this shadow is not a foe to be defeated by strength alone. It is a test of your unity, your compassion, and your resolve. Remember the lessons of your father and me—fire and light, chaos and order, strength and compassion. Only together can you preserve the balance of the world.”
As Arkanaari spoke, Kalutir emerged from the depths of his forge, his hammer glowing with the heat of creation. His presence was like the rumble of distant thunder, and his eyes burned with determination. “Arkanaari speaks wisely,” he said, his voice echoing through the grove. “The shadow is a threat to all we have built, and it will not be easily vanquished. But I will not leave you unprepared.”
With a mighty swing of his hammer, Kalutir struck the heart of the mountain. The ground trembled, and from the fissure, he drew forth a weapon of unparalleled power—a spear forged from the molten core of the earth, its tip glowing with the light of a thousand stars. “This is Aeternis, the Eternal Flame,” he declared. “It is an instrument of creation and destruction, a symbol of the balance we have forged. Wield it wisely, for it carries the essence of both fire and light.”
Kalutir handed the spear to Talen, the youngest and most fiery of his children. “You, are the God of War and Honor, Talen. This weapon is yours to bear, but know— it is not a tool of conquest, but of protection. Use it to defend the world, not to dominate it.”
Talen accepted the spear with reverence, his small hands gripping the shaft tightly. “I will not fail you, Father.”
Kalutir then turned to his other children. “Kevhirra, your wisdom will guide them. Velakar, your storms will shield them. Vyranaz, your insight will reveal the shadow’s secrets. Together, you are stronger than any force that seeks to undo our work.”
With his final words, Kalutir’s form began to fade, his essence merging with the earth itself. “I must return to the depths, to the Heartfire that sustains this world. My strength is needed there, to keep the balance intact. But know this—I will always be with you, in the mountains, the rivers, and the fires that burn within your hearts.”
Arkanaari watched as Kalutir disappeared into the earth, her radiant form shimmering with both pride and sorrow. She turned to her children one last time. “The shadow will come, but you are not alone. The stars will guide you, the rains will nourish you, and the fires of creation will burn within you. Stand together, my children, and the world will endure.”
As Arkanaari ascended to the celestial realms, her light fading into the night sky, the younger gods stood atop Mount Alkantarak, their hearts filled with resolve. as shadows loomed on the horizon.
And so, the world awaited the trials to come, knowing that the younger gods would rise to meet them, a beacon of hope in the face of darkness.
References
Krauanagaz Historical Institute. (2017). Tiribtalla Pathenon: A Review of the Gods. National Academic Library.
International Federation for Early Civilizations. (2008). Polytheistic Religions in Southern Cordilia. Grovne: IFEC Publications.
University at Yayyára Department of Religious Studies. (2020) Tiribtalla Mythology and Early Adapatations. National Academic Library.