📖Book 1: Scarlet Garnett: Prologue I
Prologue [EDIT: March 22, 2022]
Long ago, the universe was nothing, but a single speck of sand lost in an endless abyss, alone. The speck could do and feel nothing but somehow it longed to not be alone. Though seemingly small and insignificant, To’o, the god of the abyss, identified with the speck. They both longed for companionship. To’o took the speck and doubled it, altering it just slightly, and had the two specks collide and scrape each other, creating more smaller specks. This cycle would continue until the specks’ gravity pulled them together into a burning core, the place where all things start and return.
The grains continued to multiply creating a layer of crust around the core, and another before forming the depths of the ocean and building to the large peaks of the tallest mountain. The heat of the core spilled out over the shaped sand and created solid land, but there was nothing to cool the land and set its foundations. To’o lifted a handful of grains, not letting any escape their grasp, and crushed them into water. To’o held the water as it multiplied until they couldn’t hold its weight any longer. They dropped the large sphere of water and watched as it coated the heated sand, creating the oceans and solidifying the ground.
The water settled into the shape of the crevasses the sand created but wouldn’t move on its own to water the land. The land radiated the heat from the core, which kept it from harboring growth upon itself. The grains had too stopped multiplying. To’o was perplexed by what the planet needed. They watched as the water stilled, they felt the heat of the core with the back of their hand, as if checking its temperature, creating a large crater in the earth. To’o looked to the other planets they’d created and realized things were too stiff.
To’o wondered how to give their project some sauce, cause what is a project without a little sauce. To’o took a deep breath, held that breath, and wrapped it around their planet. The sudden change caused the planet to spin like a top, but when it adjusted into the groove of the universe, all was well. To’o had created Earth, Fire, Water, and Wind.
To’o wanted life to grow on its new planet, but they didn’t want to rush it, so they waited and watched as the planet spun idly, trying different forms of new life. The dinosaurs were an interesting project, but the universe had dire plans for To’o’s first attempt at life. To’o mourned the loss of so many innocent lives but thought the second try should have a bit more structure. To’o looked to each planet for guidance and their eyes fell upon Jupiter. To’o found themselves lost in Jupiter’s eye, as if spellbound, and created a people that Jupiter would love.
To’o again started with one grain of sand and formed a being they called a Hi. They created a second type of being, from the first, a Bi, and a third as a separate being from the two, a Xi, who was left-handed. Those beings were tall, and their skin was as dark as the tapestry of the universe. Their minds were intelligent beyond their understanding, and their hearts were pure of intention but protective against malice. The Hi know of the sand and the soil, they planted food and often took it upon themselves to care for others. The Bi raised their voices and their hearts, they spoke when others wouldn’t and often stood as protection for the others. The Xi had hands blessed by To’o to create anything from inventions to music they crafted and shared from their own hands. Together, the three were harmonious, and they multiplied. These were the first of the Juit people that would eventually travel to Turtle Island.
The three birthed many and eventually had a small tribe under the guidance of Jupiter. Jupiter rejoiced at the birth of each baby as the generations formed and spoke their guidance to the young people of Earth as they learned their new world. To’o was thankful for the guidance of Jupiter but saw that its God was long gone from that system. To’o sent its thanks to the universe knowing the message would be received when it was due.
Beyond the guidance of Jupiter, To’o heard the praise of Plūto and the spite of Eris. To’o was the youngest of the system’s Gods and seemed to be on their path, which the universe encouraged, but their planet was third in line from the new sun which the older God, Eris, didn’t appreciate, having to share their orbit with Plūto, the second youngest. Jupiter stuck close to Earth in its formative years, occasionally sending help in dire times.
Thanks to the kindness of Jupiter, the people of Earth wanted to leave the planet behind and become part of Jupiter, which wounded To’o. To’o watched as their people built a tower to reach the surface of Jupiter, against the god’s consent, and sent the strike of thunder that toppled the Tower of Babel. To’o was wounded by the loss of lives in the tower but knew that the destruction had to be done. The people yearned so much for the abundance of Jupiter they ignored seeing the love and time spent to create their beautiful little planet. To’o sent Jupiter away, lest the people of Earth attempt to reach it again, but once the sky was cleared of Jupiter, Earth was open to attacks from Eris. Eris controlled the hearts of the people and made them vindictive, towards others and themselves. Those who yearned most for the abundance of Jupiter grew pale, as they distanced themselves from the universe’s tapestry. They became known to my people as Erians, those who To’o refutes.
Up to that point of history, we’d all lived as one tribe, like the original drop of water, we kept close and multiplied, but after the destruction of the tower, the tribe split into factions and those plagued with Erian spirits moved north, eventually leaving Alkebulan altogether. Our tribe was of the people that always went where we were needed most. After the land of Alkebulan was filled with cultures and songs, after the land had been blessed with life, and the people flourished, our tribe felt the need to travel The Great Sea, something that at the time hadn’t been done before, to their knowledge. They created boats that could sail for months and invented foods that would last through the passage of the sea. Their boats held farms that took the water of the ocean and blessed the roots of every plant as they grew.
Then, our ancestors, voyagers, traveled. They gathered their boats and set sail knowing only to head West. They carried the prayers from Tiamat as they journeyed across what they thought was an endless ocean. Our Hi were sent as doctors to the tribes’ voyagers. They were to protect them from the ocean’s many diseases and to keep them in good health until the tribe could rebuild in the new land. Our Xi were sent as messengers to inform our home Olorin, the lead Xi, of our safety. A small group of Bi were sent as well, to protect them as they didn’t know what dangers to expect.
After 44 days and nights at sea, as our food rations finally ran dry, we spotted a few small islands, but as we drew near, the Xi’s sensed a malicious intent, so we decided our boat should divert course. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise sending our arrival just north of Aztec lands. We fed ourselves off the foods of the land and grew stronger, as our bodies adjusted to their new continent. We drank of Turtle Island’s waters and purified ourselves to welcome connections with new gods. We were a people without words, using our bodies to speak, so we were nervous about meeting the Aztecs. We didn’t want to offend or anger them. We sent the first of Turtle Island’s Olorin, the lead Xi, to learn their language and build an ambassadorship between our two tribes. Unfortunately, before their work was done, the Spanish attacked, destroying the Aztec Empire for all the beauty it had built, capturing the Olorin, and poisoning the water with spilled blood. My people didn’t bring enough Bi on their first voyage, to avoid conflict and keep the peace, but at that moment they’d wished for the wisdom to have seen a war coming. Turtle Island’s first Olorin would remain in bondage, but they would never stop singing, praying to To’o for freedom either in peace or by death. Only death was granted.
Once the Aztec temples were seized, my people started to move North. They saw the Erian blood thick in the Spanish troops and knew that any engagement with them would lead to their death. Reluctantly, they turned their backs on the place they’d just started to claim as home and packed up to move again. Their feet blistered as they walked the rough earth. They wished for the creation of their Xi for better shoes, but their leader had just been taken, so creativity was momentarily silenced. They walked on aching feet until they reached soft soil, perfect for planting, and laid eyes on a bountiful lake. They rejoiced at the sight of the beautiful stretch of beachfront land and stood together as they bathed in its beautiful glow. They named the lake for To’o, which pleased the god immensely.
The blood spilled in Panama had poisoned the water spirits even there, so they began to peacefully purify the lake with song. They wrote melodies and harmonies that pleased even To’o’s ears, and once the songs of the nation had been written, they rested in the stillness their songs had granted.
Unfortunately, their work would forever remain undone. They were betrayed by one of their own Bi, who had abandoned them for a haven with the Spaniards and led an attack back to the others. At the earliest sunrise, the Spanish attacked with their sticks of fire (guns) and their burning catapults (cannons), killing none, but capturing most. Over time, the water that had been purified was emptied from its lake, and houses were built in its place, to be continuously washed by waters from great storms sent to drive the Erian spirits out. Our Lutalo, the lead Bi, did what he could to protect the council of leaders and their children, but the Spanish wanted to use them for breeding because they selfishly found them handsome.
For 500 years of war, those of Erian blood violated our people, they held them in bondage, they forced them into slavery, they violated our childbearing traditions, they erased our language and culture. They filled our heads with lies that erased our Xi, who they saw as a threat. They couldn’t understand our culture, and instead of asking questions for understanding, they just forced us to behave like them. They called us savages, as they did the people of Turtle Island.
Our people were locked in slavery even after we’d “escaped” to “freedom”. When the laws of the land changed to abolish slavery, they replaced it with a prison system that functioned to continue the same process with laws that specifically disadvantaged those with the mark of Jupiter, darker skin. In opposition to their attacks, we pleaded with Plūto to guide us, as the Erians had marked it for the underworld. Plūto meekly agreed to assist but knew not what they could do. Eris was always with them, as they were with each of us. Plūto said to them “a battle with Eris is always personal” which they took to heart.
Again and again, we tried and failed to escape the clutches of the Erians, but they always found a way to kill our motivation. A group of us that had been freed, purchased land and began to rebuild a city. We’d formed a stable economy and had plans to help forward the country, but the spirit of Eris was heavy in the colonizers of Turtle Island. They saw our shining city, and they bombed it. Any city that tried to resemble that one was poisoned from the inside and doomed to crumble under the needs of its people.
The lineage of the last of the true Xis were hidden in sex dungeons where they were forced to have multiple babies with both slaves and owners, experimented on, or killed for resisting. Though past the time of the 19th amendment, some of us were still locked up and would remain in bondage.
Then, something magical started. Two left-handed Juits from separate plantations met in a chamber where they were supposed to consummate, and instead Bi taught Xi how to speak, how to write, and how to give and receive love. The two never conceived a child, but Bi knew of Xi’s 13 children. On the last and most ambitious night of riots, the children were gathered and the 15 of them fled the plantation, splitting up in three directions. The oldest of the children took the 4 youngest and ran West. The Elekota, the Hi chosen by the people, the second oldest, took the rest of the 4 oldest children south, into enemy territory to free those who could not free themselves. The Bi, the Xi, and the remaining 3 children ran North, landing their roots in Detroit, where the assault would continue.
Freed from the bondage of slavery, they were trapped by the Spanish Flu and the Great Depression, then the World Wars which turned our Bi into military dogs by forced drafts. Then we entered an era of police brutality, forced masculinization, segregation, health crisis experiments, and media homicide. The Olorin could see the pain draining hope from the people’s eyes but felt powerless to stop the poisonous roots from taking hold. Then, after the next generation in Detroit had grown, the government introduced heroin, AIDS, and forced job labor to further kill our people before their spark could fully reignite the fires of Vesuvius boiling within them. Finally, they saw a break in the clouds. They heard the music of our voices ring throughout the land. Motown had gotten its roots firmly planted, in blessed soil and we saw it flourish.
The Erian blood boiled at the sight of our joy and in their rage, they set out to destroy it too, but Motown was spiritually protected so they had to get creative. They began to eat away at the infrastructure of the city. They stripped it of housing funds, removed assistance to needy families. They trapped women with husbands riddled with PTSD from the wars and no therapy to properly see their demons for what they were. Children were raised in hostile households and continued to perpetuate the same, but Motown brought about a shift. Secret bases were popping up in major cities across the country. Though Erian spirits did everything they could to own and destroy them too. The path to our true freedom finally felt like it had opened to us, but there was still fighting to do.
The Erians’ blood boiled at the sight of our joy and in their rage, they set out to destroy it too, but Detroit (Current day Di’Ton) was spiritually protected so they had to get creative. They began to eat away at the infrastructure of the city. They stripped it of housing funds, removed assistance to needy families. They trapped women with husbands riddled with PTSD from the wars and no therapy to properly see their demons for what they were. Children were raised in hostile households and continued to perpetuate the same, but Mo-ti brought about a shift. Secret bases were popping up in major cities across the country. Though Erian spirits did everything they could to own and destroy them too. The path to our true freedom finally felt like it had opened to us, but there was still fighting to do. We created our bridge back to our lost ancestors and continued to build our hidden country that would run without any Erian assistance or interference.
Our bases expanded in size until they were able to control full cities across the country, having enough power then to sway elections. Suddenly, a swift illness ravaged our land, sucking the wind out of the bodies of people with the misfortune to inhale it. The illness was preventable, but those of Erian blood still held the country tight between their evil clutches. The Great Loss caused much grief in our many communities. Many people lost hope, but in the silence of the night, we began to sing. Our gods came to comfort us as illness ravaged the Erian kinds, even some of our numbers were lost as well. Most of us were safe from the raging fires of the Aztec sun and the water passage washed our cities, but no harm was ultimately done. We were left with the broken, the bruised, and our perfect selves. We moved to our forced ancestral home, rebuilt, and came into our own. The Empire of Pluto was born. And Still, We Rise.