Tiamat’s Children

By Amy Kietzman

Part 1, The People of the North Star

In the beginning, long and long ago, when Tiamat was a new young star, one of the innumerable beings in the starry realm, she felt deep down that there was something special about her. She knew that she wanted more than the cozy spot on the elegant glittering arm of the Milky Way, in which she was held in her place by love, otherwise known as gravity. Tiamat wanted to shine brighter, more brilliantly than any other star in her community, in her galaxy, in the whole world. She grew and grew and grew, as some stars do, for eons. Although her girth was indeed beauteous to behold and her brilliance beyond compare, Tiamat knew she was destined for something more. Deep inside herself she felt a stirring, a coalescing, a growing that was of herself and more than herself. As she burned brighter and brighter and bigger and bigger on the outside, so the heat intensified beyond imagining on the inside. New, never before seen, elements were coming into existence within. And this, too, went on for eons and eons, until she felt that, perhaps, she had reached the peak of brilliance, girth and creativity.

Tiamat looked out and saw all the sparkling brilliance of the stars in the Milky Way, the dazzling beauty, star upon star upon star sparkling in the rich deep velvety blackness of the universe and she was also pleased. However, that something stirred within her, some need to explore unexplored territory, a need to be more than the biggest, brightest star she could see. At that very moment, Tiamat exploded, showering millions upon millions of particles in every direction. In an instant of agony and regret, she wondered what she had done! But then all was dark and the pain was gone; did she even exist anymore? In what seemed an eternity, but was not, the Milky Way embraced her using the great force of gravity, otherwise known as love, bringing all those pieces back and back and back toward a newly forming center. Another star was born, but not just a new star, surrounding this star were a dozen other beings, all different, all unique, all made from the amazing new elements Tiamat had created inside of herself by her yearning, her evolving, her heat and light, by her brilliance and her perseverance. Every part of her was used in the creation of this new community of beings- her children. Although Tiamat no longer existed as the biggest most brilliant star, she lives on in her community of children, our home, this jewel of a solar system, far, far out on a gorgeous arm of the spiral-dancing Milky Way galaxy.

Eons went by and, Gaiya, our mother, Tiamat’s child circling the new star, also experienced yearnings and longings and these came to fruition with tide after tide of life surging forth and dying back, upheavals and catastrophes from which it seemed she might not recover. The last of these was most traumatic, indeed; a giant flaming meteor struct her full force creating massive Tsunami waves and great firestorms which instantly killed most of her children. The sky darkened with the ash and debris, and blocked the warming rays of the Sun from delivering his life-giving energy for long enough, that all seemed lost. But slowly, slowly Gaiya recovered, and green children grew again and small and larger animals evolved, though never as large as the beautiful children she had lost. Then, one day she heaved and the youngest children emerged- the People. We were called the People of the Forest Garden because we emerged into a gorgeous forrest garden, full of delicious food and all our older siblings and auntie and uncle beings from flowering vines to crawling snakes, from ants to elephants, lions to monkeys, bees to lizards, an endless number of relatives. We were so grateful to have all these family members, elders and siblings to teach us everything we needed to know to grow strong and flourish and someday, perhaps, to grow wise. We played and ate and laughed and grew and learned many many things.

One day we stopped growing physically; we noticed that we were finished with that and we were pleased with ourselves. We were strong and beautiful, we could do many things, we lived in harmony with the forrest garden and all its inhabitants, all our kin. Nonetheless, there was that something, a hunger that began gnawing at us from inside. At first it felt a little like an itch that needed to be scratched, then grew into desires and deep longings. For many of us this was assuaged by creating new life, or weaving, or pottery making, creating new rituals, songs and dances. We even invented language, a way to communicate through words and stories. For others it was assuaged by going exploring, temporarily leaving, going on adventures and then coming back with interesting new plants or animals, and especially, new stories to tell around the fire. Some did not come back, the adventure had ended in death, but death was nothing new or even to fear particularly, though we all did, if even just a little.

Painting by sarajolena wolcott

Our numbers grew, there were more and more of us, and so, too, the hunger grew. New groups formed around separate fires where dreams and longings and stories were shared. Those that felt the longings most sharply, like a deep hunger or thirst that could not be slaked, those that had the longing of Tiamat so strongly within them, gathered their groups around them and left- saying tearful farewells, but as they turned away and set out, they also felt the thrill of adventure, the stirring of curiosity and something new- a satisfaction at being on the move.

One group went toward the rising sun, another toward the setting sun. The largest group set off toward the North Star. We became the People of the North Star. We were entranced by this star- not the brightest in the sky, but the most steady. It was always there, guiding us, steadfast in the deep darkness, not moving around from dry season to wet season, not dancing across the sky from horizon to horizon. It assuaged our fear of the unknown and reminded us of our goal, calling us ever northward. Where we were going and why we were going were unanswerable, and yet when we gazed upon this unmovable star, we felt we must go, seek our destiny and we knew we would get there.

Part 2: Ocean and Star

Generations came and went as we followed our star north. We crossed rivers, vast plains, deserts and mountains until one day we came to the end of the land. Where the land ended was only water; a sea so wide we could not see what lay across it, if, indeed, anything other than sea existed. Waves crashed, wind blew; it was a fearful sight. When one brave soul dared get close enough to taste the water, they coughed and gasped and spit it out- it was salty! Despite their fear and the repugnant saltiness of the water, the people found it's vastness, its mysteriousness both entrancing and fearsome. There was confusion among the people. This clearly was not the land of their dreams and yearnings, but how were they to continue following the North Star?

And so, after many prayers and supplications to the North Star and to the Creator of the North Star, after asking for some sign to show the way- and receiving none, the people settled, uneasily, into a life by the Great Sea. Some, as they grew old actually died of a broken heart, but some died believing they had been led here to this place by the North Star. There was a restlessness along with the unease and before that generation of elders passed on, a small group of young adults snuck off in the direction of the rising sun without the blessing of the elders, for they had no blessing to give. When it became known, there was grieving, many tears shed, especially by their parents. With their grief arose a feeling of shame and confusion for which there seemed to be no medicine and so the names of those who left were never spoken again, only murmured in the dimly remembered dreams of mothers.

Neither the tuber and plant gathering, nor the hunting was particularly good in this land, but a few brave souls learned to fish. Though fish was distasteful, at first, some grew to like it and all relished its life-giving nourishment. Most people still feared the sea, and the now permanent encampment was far enough away from it, not to be bothered by the storms that sometimes raged. There was sweet water nearby, and though there were few trees, drift wood could be found on the vast beaches, especially after storms. There were times, if not of starvation, of not quite enough: not enough to eat, few storms and not enough driftwood. Although the fishing was good most of the time, there were seasons when there were few fish. The birthrate declined, so that the people were not growing. Some began to have dreams of disaster and catastrophe looming.

It was then, that a set of twins was born, an extraordinarily good omen. However, the birthing was long and arduous and it was feared that the mother and the two babes would die. All three survived, though the mother barely long enough to give her blessing. With her last breaths, smiling, yet with tears rolling down her cheeks, she held them both in her arms and named them Ocean and Star. Each tiny fist held on to one of her fingers and she looked them in them in the eyes, whispering in their ears, “You will lead our people.” All present at the birth heard the unusual names, but only the father and grandmother standing close, heard the prophesy, though both promptly forgot in their grief and frantic caring for these motherless newborns.

There were at the time a few nursing mothers who readily agreed to take turns nursing the twins, though they were brought up by their father and grandmother. As Ocean and Star grew from infants to toddlers, there were not many, if any, who could tell them apart. Everyone new that Star was a girl and Ocean a boy, but they toddled and then ran around with the other children half-clothed, skin browned and hair streaming behind and since they were always together, there was no need to mistakenly call one by the others’s name, though neither would have minded in the least. They often felt like one being, with two bodies, able to communicate without speaking aloud.

Most days no one remembered that there was anything particularly special about the twins. They did their daily chores, ran and played with the other children and sat enraptured around the fire at night listening to stories. However, the older they got, the more often Star and Ocean left the others and went to the shore of the Great Sea. There they built things in the sand and made small toy boat rafts out of driftwood. They even went into the water and eventually learned how to swim with each others encouragement, and following the examples of the dolphins they often saw riding the waves and fishing.

Now, the people were afraid of the water. Some would walk along its edge and some had learned to fish from the shore, but few if any ventured into the water. There had been a few drownings, but not many because people were too afraid to get close, let alone in the water. Fear was instilled in the youngest by tales of monsters and evil spirits in the water- just waiting for juicy little young ones to venture too near. Therefore it was a startling surprise to the adults when it was discovered that the twins could swim. The elders forbade them from continuing to swim and also forbade them from teaching anyone else. But it was too late, for the bravest of the children had already secretly sought out Ocean and Star and learned despite their fear.

When the time approached for the momentous ceremony of adulthood for the twins and their age mates, it had become a little easier to tell them apart. Although they both were equal in height, their bodies subtly changed shape and it became clear which was Star and which was Ocean. The custom was to divide the transitioning group into male and female cohorts and take them off for separate instruction and testing of various qualities. At first Ocean and Star resisted. The elders stood firm and when it became clear that there would be no transition for them if they did not cooperate, they finally agreed.

The adulthood ceremony included a renaming. The Healer and the Dreamer, who lead the trainings and conducted the ceremony, collaborated in diving the new name for each one. This time Star and Ocean insisted that they be given their new names together as a pair. Since there was nothing forbidding this, and since twins were so unusual, it was agreed upon. At the very end of the ceremony, after all their age mates had gone, the twins stepped forward into the circle and knelt before the Dreamer and the Healer. All the people hushed. They were so quiet, even the babies; the only sounds that could be heard were the distant pounding of the waves and the crackle of the fire. As the Dreamer and the Healer placed their hands on the twins bowed heads they called out in unison, “Welcome! Welcome Ocean-crosser! Welcome! Welcome Star-talker!” All were stunned, and a collective gasp came from the people. All, that is, except the twins, themselves, who ere pleased and honored. This was the first time in living memory that adults had kept a version of their childhood names! And “what could these fearful names mean?” everyone wondered.

The feast, meager though it was, distracted everyone’s attention, and the twins and their age mates sat down with the elders to eat, for the first time. Stories were told, songs sung and then people began to leave for their beds, satisfied that a new cohort of adults had been duly honored and enfolded into the clan. Star-talker and Ocean-crosser snuck off to the shore of the sea before coming back exhausted but happy and falling into deep satisfying sleep.

As the twins and their cohort of new adult members of the clan grew into their new status, they began to understand that the people were in more dire circumstances than they had been aware of as children. The gathering and hunting continued to decline. Even the fish seemed to be dwindling. Storms came farther and farther apart and firewood was becoming dangerously low. They also noticed that the number of babies being born and surviving was also continuing to decrease, which on the one hand was good given the food situation, but was also concerning. It was then that some of the oldest stories about the Forrest Garden the people had left and about following the North Star were revived and elaborated upon. In the elders council some began to wonder about trying to find their way back. Others wondered about moving on, to the East or the West.

The unease grew among the people. Neither Ocean-crosser, nor Star-talker felt the urge to pair up with a mate and have a family. Nearly half of their age mates felt the same, Even while it could be seen, a developing love and passion for each other, many of them did not unite causing great sadness among the people.

Although no one else talked of crossing the Great Sea, the twins did with each other. Ocean, for most of his life had watched the sea and learned its seasons; when the storms came, when the calm periods were, what directions the winds blew and when they were the strongest. Star had also been watching the stars- she had a particular affinity for the North Star, and because they wordlessly shared so much, both come to the conclusion that the North Star could be used to navigate the Great Sea, just as the old stories told of it guiding the people here. They had also their entire lives played at building boat rafts and as they grew so, too, the boats grew. They always dismantled them before anyone could find them and brought the drift wood home for fuel, but, now, they built in earnest.

During this fearful uneasy time the group of young adults who, as children, had come to them to learn to swim and who had not paired up or started families, gravitated toward the twins. Secret meetings began to occur in the wee hours of the morning at the shore by the sea. They experimented with building bigger and bigger boat rafts. They made lengths and lengths of rope and many fish hooks and baskets and hid them in a cave near the shore. Though they were building boats and making plans to leave, to strike out on their own, cross the Great Sea, many still feared the water and their dreams of crossing the sea did not quite feel real.

One night the biggest storm that anyone could remember blew. It raged for days and nights; when it was over the beach was littered with more driftwood than anyone had ever imagined, let alone seen.There were whole trees, large branches and smaller pieces as far as the eye could see. Strar-talker and Ocean-crosser looked at each other and nodded. They called all the people together and explained what the group had been doing in secret and what needed to be done, now, for a large group to go across to the other side. They declared that the North Star would guide them and that, at last, they would find the land our ancestors had dreamed of.

Needless to say this created an uproar and many of the elders condemned the plan. iI was then that the father of the twins remembered his wife’s dying prophesy. He told the story, and their grandmother, who was, miraculously still alive, confirmed it. When some heard this their fear lessened and they began to hope, others did not believe and their fear increased. The elders’ council met, as the young people began to build large boat rafts and stock them with all the hidden tools and supplies. The families of many of the young people began to bring what meager supplies of food and pottery urns for water as they could spare. Some of the older children who would become adults soon, begged to go. The elders could not agree to whole-heartedly support this plan, but by now, it was clear that it would happen, blessing or no. It was also clear, that the children, their parents and frail elders would stay behind along with anyone else who did not wish to go.

Ten days later, all was ready, or as ready as any could make it. All looked to Ocean-crosser and Star-talker to lead. There were many tears of farewell shed and wails of lamentation, from those being left behind. Seven large raft boats set out, small sails furled in a pleasantly strong wind, a cloudless sky, carrying 90 people and a months worth of meager food and barely enough water. Cheers filled the air mixed with sobs and wails as those left behind gathered on the beach to watch the departure. They stood transfixed, until the boats became too small to see. Those on board were filled with excitement, and dreams of the lush wooded land on the other shore, facing north. Then more than half turned around to watch the tiny figures on the shore grow smaller and smaller. Now their throats ached and tears slid down their faces. They, too, were full grief as well as hope and fear.

Almost exactly one month later, 3 of the boats arrived on the far shore and nearly 50 people, bedraggled, half-starving, nearly crazy with thirst, struggled ashore, collapsing on the ground. Many kissed the ground as if embracing a long-lost relative. Others immediately searched for water to drink which was fortunately nearby. Not one looked back, at the water, or what was left of the boats. No one would even be able to speak of that treacherous crossing, or all the people lost for quite some time, if ever. They had made landfall. They were alive. They were filled with gratitude, and survival necessitated that they think about the living, look forward, find food and shelter. They were amazed at the lush forrest and beautiful meadows they encountered. There seemed evidence of plenty of game and much good foraging- this was, indeed, the land their ancestors had followed the North Star to find. What they did not yet know or sense was that this land was already home to a people much like themselves, yet also quite different. And they were being watched.

Part 4/5 Children of the Plague

After many generations, upheavals and waves of conquest, empires that rose and fell, the People settled into a way of life. As all people seem to do, they began to experience this way as The Way, forgetting much of how we got to it, and mistakenly acting as if this was and would be forever how things are. There were many good and pleasant things about the way that, at least, balanced, if not outweighed the uncomfortable and oft times heart-breaking bits. Although there was an uneasy coupling of the universal, compassionate religion with empire (one that had already fallen and a new one arising), with its condoning of war and a male presentation of G!d, there was also a deep recognition that the Divine resided equally in the what we have come to call nature or the natural world. There were still wise woman, often healers and midwives, and even a great Abbess reminding us of the beauty and divinity present in the green growing world that sustained us all.

This was a time of small villages and small castles or holdings, pastured animals, forrest gardens and vineyards, when there were still tracts of wild forrest that belonged to no-one and therefore, everyone, where wild game could be hunted and potent herbs collected. It was then that the Plague arrived. Called the Black Death, it swept over the land, wiping out entire villages. None of the wise women, priests, lords or abbesses, no amount of prayer, supplication, bargaining with saints and ancestors, or propitiating spirits could stop its devastation. Whole villages of people died agonizing deaths. In other villages there was loss and horror beyond belief; anyone who survived lost sons, daughters, grandmothers, fathers, wives. Rich and poor were struck down without regard to status, saints and “sinners’ were equally afflicted. Often there was no one to bury the dead.

And so it was, that not only did the People suffer from so much agony and death, they also suffered a deep and festering spiritual wound. Some began to feel they were cursed, and worse, project this onto each other. At first it was just strangers. Where tradition was to welcome the stranger, glad to hear the news and stories from afar, see new and interesting objects that the honored guest had brought with them- now strangers were shunned, sometimes run out of town, definitely avoided. As fear will, it feasted upon itself and created more fear, so that soon no-one trusted anyone outside the immediate family, and families grew smaller and smaller, until most families consisted of 2 parents and children. Even the children moved away as soon as they were able. Better to count on as few others as possible! We became the Children of the Plague.

Now, it came to pass, since the People were diminished severely, that there were often not enough hands, feet or backs to do the work that needed doing. Tiamat’s children, though they had long forgotten her, were nothing if not creative, inventive, risk-takers (though still not wise!). Indeed there was a virtual explosion of inventions, creating ways and things to do the work that people had formerly done. And, voila! machines were born; non-animal (non-human), not alive(!) things, usually with moving parts, that made work easier, or did the work by itself, more or less. Some good, perhaps even great things occurred as a result of both fewer people and new inventions. Since there were fewer common folk, peasants, their status rose, including the status of women. With this came less taxation, more freedom and greater expectations. Unfortunately, all of these consequences also fueled various backlashes and unleashed different sorts of plagues.

The new inventions allowed for more ready exploitation of land, resources and people. Wealth beyond what any had dreamed of was created (at what expense, would only become clear generations later). Stealing, ie, nobles wagging raids, battles and usurping the lands and fealties of those they defeated and killed became more common. Rebellions of the common folk arose. Some quite successfully ruled themselves without lords, if even just for a few years. The rebellions were put down in one place, only to arise in another. It was the twin plagues of the Inquisition and the Witch Hunts that divided the common folk from each other, and sealed the fate of the people, locking them into a culture of doubt, distrust, and alienation from anything other than their own inventions. So doubt and distrust were also plagues visited upon them. There seemed to be no comfort or succor from anything anywhere and a deep-seated uneasiness grew in their souls. G!d was now considered primarily a distant and judgmental father figure, so remote and inaccessible that for many he disappeared altogether. The more compassionate, in some ways, trinitarian religion, constantly berated the Children of the Plague for their depravity and sinfulness, which their experiences of life seemed to confirm, and and they lived only for the promise of a beautiful after-life.

Now, to be fair, there was a second wave of The Plague, the Black death, and it was not as devastating as the first because of the distance between people, the culture of separateness that had become the new Way of Being. Although this new way of being saved lives, it also deepened the spiritual wound. As land became unproductive due to overuse and extractive practices, and the commons, the tracts of wild land that had been for the use of all, were enclosed and claimed by the rich, two new plagues, human caused, arose: colonization and slavery- a new kind of slavery, based on skin color and place of origin. along with these plagues came the stealing of land, whole continents, even, and stealing labor, even to the point of death became the primary sources of wealth and so called progress.

Co-arising with these monstrous concepts and acts, came the conception that our mother, the very earth that sustains us, was a dead, un-alive thing, that we could exploit indefinitely. We imagined that we could extract from and dump our increasingly toxic waste upon and into her without consequence. Paradoxically this allowed for the birth and survival of astronomically unheard of numbers of people. We had, ourselves, become a Plague, causing death and destruction on an unprecedented scale. We also created new heights of beauty, compassion, knowledge and understanding, but a Plague, we were, nevertheless.

Perhaps, all was not lost. For there were remnants, pockets of folk who never succumbed, entirely, despite the genocides, to the Children of the Plague. Underground streams of the the deep-seated ways of old, coupled with new amalgamations of the best of all religious traditions began to emerge. ReMembering began, or grew, at first on the fringes, the margins, in the underground where they had survived. The task was enormous, and had to begin with healing; so much trauma to be healed! With the help of the more than human world, more than human beings, with the help of the mother of all, our beautiful Gaiya Earth and ALL her children- perhaps healing was possible and the era of Plagues would end.

And who will we be then, if we are so blessed as to find out?