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Quote by Craig D. Lounsbrough

“It’s not about the ashes, for they tell a tale of what was. It’s about having a vision sufficient to understand that the tale that lies among the ashes stands ready to build the dream that will rise above the ashes.”

Quote by Craig D. Lounsbrough

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Craig D. Lounsbrough

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“It’s a dream about how the world was made. It was made by a demented angel. Crazy with loneliness, he looked into a mirror and the mirror cracked, and thus the world was made. We can wander about picking up the pieces if we like, but all we ever see is our own face squinting back. Through a crack. Darkly. It’s a cold place, you see. A place of question and cold wind. And with such poor lighting that we can only see at all because the mirror’s back is black. It was a botched job, Cambridge. The Gnostics knew it. They knew there’s Gnothing for us here. So your father and mine would have been much wiser not to bring us here at all. They should have left us where we belong - out across that milky way which begins beyond the rim of the universe and ends between our thighs. But crazy angels that they were, they made us crazy angels too.”

Cosmogony
Book:The Chymical Wedding
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“AYA HAD TOLD OF the beginning of the world. She had been as fire in the void, twisting, churning, wanting to form. Over time she had taken shape, and it had hurt. Nemours knew how much, but Mother described it also as a joy. To become. From particles burning and melding she had grown into a great dragon, rough-hewn by the collisions of time. Sharp eyes watching the darkness, fire now her breath. The fire, raging alone, had made clouds, and the clouds made rain. The rain had fallen, sweet, and made a sea. The rain had turned salty with her tears and made more seas. And from that fire and rain and the very dust of stars Father had formed. Or so she liked to say. She described Virso coming together, shaped already like a man. The most beautiful of creatures, with the coldness of the moon on his skin, asleep still in the ether. So enamored was she that she had retreated into her own body and remade herself in his likeness. The dragon had hardened and cracked, and she had emerged from it with long limbs, awkward for a while, and reached for him. The body, empty, had fallen from her and into the sea. Aya had taken Virso by the hand and breathed fire and life into him. Their passion had begun. Beneath them, the gigantic dragon body in the water had petrified and become the world. Or so she liked to tell. It had always been difficult to catch Mother out of a poetic mood. She was magic, and she liked illusion.”

MagicDragonsBeginningEpic FantasyCosmogonyOrigin Myth
Book:The Rage of Princes: A Portal Fantasy Adventure
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