The trumpet sounded, and They were called down from the swirling navy and indigo cosmos, to meet. It had been some time, and as always, some of Them lingered, to put the finishing touches on an ocean, or one last stroke of colour in a nebula. They gathered around an obsidian table, as the Universe moved and breathed around Them. This was Their creation: The Universe, and all that lay within it. They were quite proud of it, though Their work was never done. Always, there was something that They wanted to change, or build, or sometimes destroy. But for today, They settled around the table, and plucked a single orb from the vast collection around them.
This planet had many names, to many different beings, but to the Humans on it, it was Earth. A little planet, not too big, but not too small either, Earth had become one of Their favourites. They had all had a hand in making it, and to this day, They will squabble over Who did the best work. Only a couple hundred years had passed since They’d last checked in, a blink of the eye for ones as old as Them, but Earth provided endless amusements.
Small as it was, the Humans that inhabited Earth were one of Their finest creations, and they made it quite the planet to watch. Of course, Humans were always an option, but only on Earth had they flourished, the touch of life blossoming into the little creatures. They placed the earth onto the dais at the centre of Their table, to take a peek at Their favourite globe.
There were so many of them, all milling about earth, looking for different things, and the same thing all at once. The Human Race, they had named themselves. Of course, They had a different name for them, but it was in a language so old and deeply rooted in the universe, that it can only be read in the stardust. They like the Humans, but recently, They had found them frustratingly odd. One microscopic life form, billions of years ago, had made everything possible. And now, left to chance, They had let it all flourish. But the Human Race did not share that method. They were dominant, violent, and possessive. They had claimed the Earth.
How silly of them, of course, to claim what wasn’t theirs, but of course they didn’t know much better. They fought over which Humans ought to lay claim to the lands, without realizing the cosmic eyes watching them, laying claim to them. What deeply amused Them the most, was their constant battles over who made them. Religion, they called it, a silly thing. Of course they were wrong every time. Some elements of truth were there, yes, but it was all their own history, not the history of the Universe.
If the Humans knew anything, they would realize that they were in their own playground, free to amuse Them with their little antics. The Humans once said that the stars and sky were painted just for them. This was absurd. They painted the skies for Themselves, to bring beauty to Their world. But still, they were amusing, with their thousands of names for everything and every one. Even They had Human names, which was the silliest, most naive thing of all.
The Humans had named Them, and drawn Them in their own image, fragile and fleshy. It was endearing. Of course, They were not Humans. Are not Human. Never will be human. This time though, They thought to make Their meeting a bit more fun. A masquerade, perhaps. Yes, today They would don Their Human faces, and bear Their Human names.
“Odin!” said God, in the language of starlight. “This was a wonderful idea! Oh how funny those little beings are. How are they doing, Our little Humans?”
“Oh I think they are doing well,” He replied.
“Right.” said Demeter, lounging across a chair, as She played with a vine. “Because wasting all those lovely trees I gave them is ‘doing well’. Not to mention the fact that they are boiling down there.”
“Oh, it’s only been a few hundred years, relax.” Ra interjected. He quite liked the bird mask He wore. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
“I only gave them a certain amount, dear Ra. They can’t grow back everything I gave them.”
“Ugh you really do know how to ruin a party, don’t you!” Acan cut in.
“Indeed,” God agreed. “We do not have to watch over every little thing they do. They rose from the life that We breathed into the Earth. What they do with it is up to them, not Us.”
“But they throw it away,” Vishnu said. “They are wasteful.”
“Yes. They do not appreciate the life We gave them. They seek only to end it.” Mars sat at the table, a lonesome gaze in His eyes. “War plagues their Earth, and over what? Petty, useless ideals. I have never regretted a creation before, but their carnal lust for violence is…”
“Their own.” Odin argued. “We gave them life, and all that came with it. We gave them the choice, and they chose this.”
“Not all of them did, though.” Buddha had been quiet until now, waiting for Their chance to speak. “Some of them are violent, yes, but some of them are kind, and soft, and gentle even in the face of it all.”
“And they are crushed.” The Hanged Man stood, gazing into the orb. “They are made martyrs for their causes. Sometimes, I wonder if it is worth it.” They circled the Earth, staring at it. Like all planets, and all experiments of life, They had each given something to it, to help it grow and flourish. But when They saw what had become of Their little Humans, They grew curious. In and of itself, that was a feat. They were rarely curious about anything at all, for there was no reason for Them to do so. Why should They wonder? Why should They care?
The Hierophant stood up, and cupped the orb in His palm. He had a special appreciation for the Humans, and for the Earth. He could feel them in a way that few of Them could.
“They are scared.” He said. “They are scared because they do not know. They do not know each other well enough to be trusting, and they do not know us well enough to be faithful.”
“Ah!” said Odin, “So they lack wisdom, then!”
“And whose fault would that be?” Demeter posed, a sarcastic lilt in Her voice.
“I gave it to them. It is not my fault if they don’t use it.”
“Odin, please. It is not a lack of wisdom. Some of them are very wise indeed, but there is a fear there, that overpowers it.” The Hierophant countered.
“But they are brave.” cooed Astarte. “They fight through the fear. Look there, I see it all over their little world. Sparks of courage.”
“Yes,” Yemaya agreed. “I see it too. Through all of the lives lost, more are made. A new generation born to usher in a new world. Many of their countries are still ignored, but the Humans are fierce, and yes, I think that soon they will rise above it all.”
Thoth took a step towards the orb, His image of an ibis’ beak just pecking the surface of it. “Yes, a new generation. Odin, you say they lack wisdom, yet look how smart they are.” He chuckled a little. “Many of them have forgotten us, through the millennia, but they have discovered something different. They are figuring out the way their Earth works, and all the little details behind it. Yes, they are so very clever.”
“Clever indeed. They are inventive as anything.” Vulcan spoke up from His seat, seeing into the hearts of factories, the boiling magma beneath the surface, roiling and bubbling up. He could hear the tinker of metal on metal, as the Humans built. “Sure, they may have ruined their trees, Demeter, and maybe they’ve got some things to learn still, but they are geniuses at one thing: rebuilding. We have left them this world, and they may tear it apart, but We forget that they have rebuilt and moved on from everything. They grow.”
“Yes, it is something that We do not do.” Izanami said. She spoke softly, from the far end of the table. “We gave them life, and death, but more importantly, We gave them something in between. The chance to grow. We are stagnant, just as We are eternal. Time passes at our will, but We maintain stasis. Everything around us moves, and changes, and grows, but We are the ones who they move around.”
“The Humans have grown so much, I would say.” Yemaya added. “Look at them all, milling about.”
“But they have fought each other for long,” Mars pointed out, “So many wars, and so much anger.”
“Ah, but they have grown to love as well. Listen.” Apollo floated up, resting on His side in a cloud of pale stardust. He had fashioned Himself a crown of sunlight, just as how the Humans drew Him. “Oh, listen! Their music is simply...divine.” He teased. “And look at them all, loving each other in all the ways that We could think of. They really are lovely.”
“Are they though?” asked God. He took a seat at the obsidian table, looking at the reflections of the Universe. They had all had a hand in making the Humans. And it was true that they had come very far. They were centuries ahead of any other little creatures. But they had laid waste to Earth, and they had ignored their own suffering people. Worst of all, they were ignoring Them. Here they sat, looking for answers in their endless sky, and They were there, looking back down at them. Their Creators. The Creators.
“I think so…” Odin offered, pensive and distant. He always was one of the thinkers, hence His choice in costume. “Perhaps we judge them too harshly. Perhaps, they still have more growing to do.”
“Oh, of course they do!” Thoth proclaimed. “They have so much more to learn, about Earth, about themselves, even about Us one day. But they are trying, very hard, to keep going. To learn.”
“You two can be so stubborn.” said Acan. “They will be fine.”
“Acan is right,” Apollo agreed. “You have every right to worry, but rest assured. I think that everything will turn out just fine for Our little pets. And it is as Izanami said, We gave them space to grow. So, before we pass judgement on their progress, we ought to let them grow. And Demeter, regarding your trees, I have good word that the Humans are working very hard to replant them. So please, do not be bitter.” Apollo winked at Her. He very much liked taking this form, as the whole prophecy deal was quite entertaining, and provided Him with endless amusement.
“Yes, well I will remain bitter until they fix it. I gave them a whole rainforest and they went and cut it down! But I suppose You are right. They have at least realized their mistake, and are trying rather hard to fix it.”
God nodded sagely, as The Creators each took their seats. He almost began to worry about Their Human creations, and the choices they were making. But no longer. No, The Creators did not need to worry. These Humans needed only time, before they would flourish fully. They had begun to flourish already, in the last century, and they were well on their way.
The Creators sat in silence, pondering the Humans, and their curiosity. It was, however, time for Their meeting to end. The masquerade was over, and They had to return to Their work. Nebulas do not paint themselves, nor are the planets molded of nothing. So, They shed Their Human forms and names, and placed the small blue orb back into its place. It returned to orbit around its star, perfectly timed, just as They had built it. The Creators said Their farewells, and returned to what they did best. They Created. Just as Humanity created problems, and solutions, and wars, and peace, and life, and death. They created the Future. Just as Humans do.
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