Author’s note: This short piece is the cornerstone of Sangrithar’s history. It takes place after the story of the Vanara. When you’re finished, read the companion piece, “The God who Fell to Earth,” which tells how Sangrithar got its start..
The oceans of Heaven seethed with a rising tempest reflecting the greater battle between the brothers. Sworn into opposition by the grief of an age long gone, they railed against each other. Azure waves rose and fell like a molten battlefield, smashing together in violent retribution.
Heaven’s bedrock staggered in reply. On the Plains of Blessing, ripples of coruscating force rumbled over the meadows and the Pegasi ran, afraid the Elemenes were awakening after eons of slumber. Without the chattering of crickets and birdsong from the bough, the Singing Forest grew quiet for the first time since Nyllen the Minstrel taught the wood to sing. In the Caves of Iron, the endless burrowing of the tireless Vergar came to a halt. At the Mere, rainbows scintillated from the roil nearly toppling Harnor’s Spires.
Golden Finbardin, King of Heaven, watched his realm tremble and shook his head in discontent. Even in this new age, the Prophecies held sway. He could not forestall their fate. He had brought this on, this battle between the brothers, he and the Lady of Esel when they had contrived to bring forth the Vanara. He had started it, but not even the Seeress could say where it might end.
He had pinned his hopes on the Vanara and from those hopes had this battle sprung. Encouraged by One-Eye’s whispers, mad Rabyn had emerged from the depths to challenge Umbar, Lord of Sea and Storm, for his part in making the Vanara.
For time unmeasured the brothers had battled, unrelenting as the wind. Now, he sensed their battle drawing to a close. A spray of surf and foam erupted and the brothers were towering waves, crashing into one another and mingling like entwined lovers. Not even his discerning eye could tell them apart.
A spout formed around the battling titans. Small at first, it stretched from the ocean, swirling with the fury of a maelstrom. It pulled the brothers up and spat them into the Firmament. One caught himself on the lip.