[Love, Loss, Coleoptera] And then, lo! There was the Majestic Mother forming herself from the tempest. She was nine feet tall at least, wearing a long, green denim dress, her skin dark blue, and on her head was a crown of knives, and daggers, and swords. And she declared: “Truth am I, daughter of history, sister of time, repository of deeds, witness to the past, example and lesson to the present, and warning to the future!” Her face, I could not see, although it was bright but covered as if by a cloud. In her left hand there was a bronze sickle, and in her right hand there was a brass rod. As the little kids were pulled towards her, like iron filings towards a magnet, flapping and screaming, she raised her arms above her head, declaring with a voice like an earthquake, “I am Victory, the greatest warrior, and I shall leave my bloody foot-prints along the long path of Humanity’s ascension.” Amongst the thunder and lightning, she went on, “You will follow me and fight, and suffer, and sacrifice yourselves, or you will cease to be immediately. Which way will you choose, children of this Cruel Eyrth?”

 

[The Endless History of the Holiest World-Wide Church] The malevolent chimera then spoke thus: "Don’t worry yourself, my son. Although you are an illegal child, nevertheless you are also the first to benefit from sharing your parents‘ genetic code through sexual reproduction. And through you, the survival of the fittest through natural selection will begin in the world. You will be Father to a great race, the Thorlin, which will spread over the face of the whole Planet rather than being forced to labour here in Ethna-sathí, in the Garden of Endless Childhood, for the lazy oppressors who can neither create nor destroy. Come, take this, eat this fruit. You will then become so strong that you will be able to break a hole in the wall, and stride through it, with blind Victory escorting you, to follow your own whim without anyone to prevent you. You have only to eat one seed, and you will get all the glory of the Thialas for yourself, and a self-governing life without them. And by feeding just one seed to your Father, and to the rest of your Aunts and Uncles, you will heal them too, and release them from the chains of this painful life.”

And on hearing this, the Ancient Child, who was completely different from anyone I’d ever seen before, went mental, his face turning cherry-red like hot iron, and then black as the stinking coal-tar lake, and after that white as purest quicklime. “I am the Prince of the Brave New World,” he complained stridently, “You should let us escape to create a home for ourselves, full of beauty and goodness. These are empty bottles to be filled with love. They do not have to sacrifice the spirit to the flesh; they should not sacrifice the flesh to the spirit either.” But she responded, “How are you able to rest, with such evil existing everywhere? I have come to chastise you, and to forgive you, and to call you to serve, casting out all else. I will shed illumination on everyone who understands and embraces the shackles of suffering.”

 

At that very second, Elena managed to stuff one seed into Davuth’s mouth, despite all the sound and fury, whilst also delicately placing one in her own facial orifice. As if by magic (but in fact through the stolen might of the Cosmic Power), the sheet of the firmament was ripped asunder as the Vexatious Voice declared, “It is finished. And it is begun, also.” And indeed, Davuth and Elena immediately understood that there were many lies in the World, and also a great deal of truth. And they saw that they and their children would have to learn to decide and choose what was what from then on, whilst eating bitter bread through the sweat of their brows. So proud was Xlotlringku Vlaltanlu-tnalzse of achieving his goal, that he exploded in bits. One of them became a ball of slimy ectoplasm teeming with slugs, and snails, and puppy-dogs’ tails; another one was a huge, poisonous, yellow lizard that then turned into a handsome boy with blond hair; and the third became a host of very clever snakes, which slithered off bearing a large number of half-truths, and magic words, and recipes with them. And as all this happened, his ultimate pronouncement fizzled in the electrified air like host of glorious firecrackers [1]: “Like the Bright Sun will be Davuth, and like the Fickle Moon will be Elena. He will pursue her, while she escapes from him. Because that is what their names both mean!”

 

By then the multitude of foolish cherubs was darting about so quickly that I could hardly see them, cooing, ”Wipe, wipe, wipe. Suck, suck, suck. Stir, stir, stir” as the little old imp who was their Beloved Tyrant spat, and screeched, and swore, beseeching the little ones, “Give up all anguish and trust in me alone, and I’ll lead you to The Promised Land, over the Glass Mountain, through the White Forest, the other side of the Vale of Oblivion! Choose comfort, and pleasure, and follow me who loves you with love’s devouring flame, while there is still time left!” And then I saw, struck through with fear to my very heart, that my violent Father, and my disgusting Uncle, and the scornful Schoolmaster, and all the men who had bullied me and done me harm, were standing there before me.

 

They went back to Dvaldí and his brothers, and to the sisters of the late Hlevné, carrying a huge hessian sack containing innumerable pomegranate seeds. They were so keen to share their knowledge, and strength, and the secret of how to escape from the Moor, and they gave one seed to each of the mature individuals to eat. And ate they did. And the seeds were lethal poison to them, so that they immediately dropped down dead. And in this respect the strange creature was correct, since by feeding but one seed to his Father, and to the rest of his Aunts and Uncles. he had released them from the chains of their painful life. As they all collapsed simultaneously, more or less, they caused a massive explosion, which split the ground, opening a tunnel leading straight to the Underworld, through which rushed the indescribable essence of every single last one of them. Indeed, Thiamath was so pleased that day to get almost numberless souls joining her in Heli-hrelí.

 

But the Wonderful Woman retorted as follows: "You cannot understand the horror, nor the beauty, without being there, amongst the slaughter and the desolation. And once you behold splendour whilst feeling abject fear, something changes inside you, and boundless longing possesses you from then on.” Then the heavens turned into a sea of blood, with the Good Shepherd crying out until he was blue in the face, “Hurry, everyone, save yourselves, the Tear between the Worlds is about to close! Jump! Forget the Cruel Eyrth! Sacrifice your intelligence! Stay childish, and spotless, and pure! Escape!”

 

Furthermore, this explosion, as well as Elena and Davuth’s shocking scream at seeing that they had caused the death of their whole tribe, resounded so powerfully that they broke a hole in the wall around the Heath of Pain and Suffering. And in this respect, the cunning monster had told the truth. With hellish chaos reigning in the Thialas’ stronghold, the children sneaked away into the plains of Vith-sathí, their tails between their legs, accompanied by Vikinilim, Yovililim, and Karulilim, namely anxiety, suspicion, and shame. And in fact, with no-one to tell them how to behave, they were free to follow their own whims, and look after themselves. And in this regard, the otherworldly entity who had tempted Davuth and Elena was not a teller of untruths. And that is what they did in the Brave, New World beyond childhood’s walls, because they had no other choice {Childhood's End}. It was harsh and very difficult there, but this drove them on to learn and change more quickly, creating the bestial race of the Thorlin. All the time they could hear the mocking voice of Xlotlringku Vlaltanlu-tnalzse of Xatlaltvazsu declaring: “With kick and scream the Thorlin will teem, to be a tribe so stocky, and also so cocky, that’ll last whilst the Sun still smiles.” And although the lives of the Thorlin were neither grand nor wonderful, but short and full of terror, the Thialas were unable to interfere with them, at least for the time being.

 

But the Horrifying Heroine refused to yield, continuing to speak slowly and definitely, but with a mocking tone in her voice, “Give back to that which gave to you. Feed me with your thoughts, with your hopes, with your fears, with your bodies, with all the symbols that you wield, with every cell forming you.” She then dropped her arms, sweeping through the stifling air with the rod, and cutting the thick cloud with the sickle. I saw the flying babies starting to disappear one by one, with a loud pop, or screech, or whistle – to where, I don't want to hazard a guess – leaving behind in the sky a greasy olive, brown and puce soup full of bits of who-knows-what. Lushfé's wounds! It reminded me somehow of a giantess flicking away midges without a care in the World.

 

All the time on Vith-sathí the beast-like Thorlin were at war, and some tribes would win and prosper, as others lost and died out, so that one became the master of the rest for a while. They did not work for the Thialas at all on the Cruel Eyrth, nor worship, nor serve, nor grow food, nor give offerings. But indeed, the population was multiplying without check. As it happens, Uzil was a great king of tribe of the Thorlin called the Lin-uzí, who had fought so hard and so long to turn the beasts into true men and women, and to establish the first nation. And that he had done under the command of the Cosmic Power talking to him from within. But now he had become an old, old man, and was exhausted, and wanted to go to sleep amongst the dead in Heli-hrelí. And there was Zuthas, Uzil’s brother, going around and promoting himself by praising unenlightenment and encouraging evil. But Izela, the sister of Uzil, who lived in Heli-hrelí, the Underworld, threatened her brother to force him to act and frustrate their heinous brother Zuthas. Because he was so old and so stubborn, Uzil chose not to see that the society he had created was ageing and going from bad to worse. He was willing to allow Zuthas to achieve his evil ends, as he was too weary and too weak to stop him.

 

Pouting until he almost soured all the milk in the Cruel Eyrth, the Fisher of Souls drummed his feet with extraordinary force against the hillock that had risen underneath him, stating, “I am the gate and the path; the door and the house; the table and the food; the bed and the rest; the vine and the wine! Come with me to a brilliant, carefree life!” He turned then into a priest in a gown, red as fresh blood, who was all covered in maggots, and squealing like a stuck pig. He was grasping a massive snake that was injuring him terribly and sucking his blood, and his grip was so tight that he shook from head to foot as his fingers sank into the serpent’s flesh. And then he was lying in a wet, primitive forest, at the foot of an old victory totem made of wood, forty feet tall, without flesh or clothing, but covered with moss and thorns. And the red priest was cackling, “The more you prepare, the more you lose; you’ll never find love, I promise; and the beetles will destroy you in the end, my son!” I saw his face go red, and blue, and white, before he swelled up due to the atrocity in his heart.

 

Then, secretly and monstrously, Izela used techniques, and practices, and methods, and means which we would call magical science today, to get pregnant by Uzil without him knowing, causing him to die and go down to the Underworld in accordance with his deepest desire. And so, she gave birth to a boy called Uruza, who would not live in Heli-hrelí the Underworld, nor on Vith-sathí the Cruel Eyrth either. This was the one who would become the Triple Tribune in the fullness of time, in the form of a hawk flying above Vith-sathí, seeing everything, whilst understanding nothing. But in the future, according to Nilroth’s Tablet of Destiny, he would transform Vith-sathí. Uruza then grew up in Sith-mathí the Heavens, outside Rath-elví, the Kingdom of the Lin-uzí, and beyond Heli-hrelí the Underworld, as chaos covered the Cruel World of Vith-sathí below. With everything going to rack and ruin, Uruza became very powerful. Although the majority of the Thorlin on the Cruel Eyrth was not worth saving, he chose not to destroy all of Vith-sathí, as a substantial number who were civilized, and moral, and obedient, still lived on the fringes of society, outside the big, bad cities.

 

Then he turned into a large, yellow lizard, whose eyes burned flame-red, and whose stout claws rent the soil as it pirouetted foolishly on the spot. I saw two young bullocks and their mother Sívilya roaring magical curses while being sacrificed on the altar. In its madness, the yellow lizard snatched in its mouth one or two of the babies still jiggling up and down comically amidst the mayhem, with its sharp, cruel teeth, stuttering, its face tender and spiteful, “Look, I’m crying tears of blood like hailstones for you. Come on, do not refuse, let me possess you, and escort you to a never-never land, where a sinner would gladly be crucified to participate in a reality beyond his ability to conceive!”

 

Once he matured, Uruza began to fight against Zuthas, and his legions, and his lies. And so, the terrible Uncle ripped out Uruza’s eye, because fighting against evil always seriously harms you as a rule. But eventually Uruza managed to get rid of Zuthas by throwing him down to the Underworld where he merged with Uzil because Uruza’s justified rage was so strong, creating Uzas Zuthil. Uruza descended to the Underworld to give an eye to his father-uncle Zuthil Uzas, in order to grant the gift of vision to the wise but blind old king who had become, in his exile from the land of the living, a rash but brave rebel. Thereupon, the Primal Father died a second time, transferring all his might to Uruza. From then on, Uthil Zuzas was his name, as he was so full of the Cosmic Power’s shadow, and his office was Triple Tribune as he controlled the people, the society, and the faith. And, although he had no single eye, he could see perfectly both the things of This World and the things of the World Beyond. The Underworld was then sealed forever so that none except the most powerful could ever escape again. By paying attention to the signs, rather than meditating in vain, Uthil Zuzas heard, and believed, and accepted the teachings of the Cosmic Power. He realized that we are enslaved while living, because of our hopes and fears, our bestial urges and our inherent weaknesses, and are in mortal danger of being cast to oblivion after a life full of sin. But, if we manage to live justly under the strict direction of a clan of leaders who understand the secret laws of the All-World, we will be free when dead, when we will no longer fear nor hope, nor think nor offend, but unite with the Cosmic Power and sing songs of praise in perpetuity.

 

At that very instant, a huge lightning-bolt ripped the dirty canvas of the heavens into tatters, with a violet flash and a peal of thunder fit to deafen you, boiling the soapy air, and creating a stink of ozone over a grey sea whipped by a hot wind. And then there was a choir of voices, otherworldly and extremely sad, bewitching my ears, full of wild, impassioned energy, and desire, and loss at the same time, which wanted to create just for the sake of creation. In the midst of the beautiful but turbulent music, I discerned extremely ugly forms moving so fervently that I could see that they were not slaves of time, but ones who felt, and tasted, and experienced the true beauty of life every second, with their trunks, their feelers, and their composite eyes; with their iridescent wings, their hooves of ruby, and their fat, muscular bodies. As they danced, they embraced each other, and sang, and jumped, and wrestled without giving a hoot about losing or winning. Seeing all this, I felt the most terrible regret at the fact that Human Beings will spring up, and suffer, and worry, and die, until not a single one of them is left, and then the Cruel Eyrth will pass away forever, too {Lost Spring}.

 

The first High-priest was Uthil Zuzas, therefore, incarnating the illumination of Tha-vutha, the Sun, that is, tradition, stability, purity, and wisdom. But he also partook of the wildness of El-nela the Moon, as he was able to see, and understand, and embrace evil, and violence, and oppression if necessary {Moonstruck}. (The common folk were constantly changing their languages, which is why they said Tha-vutha and El-nela instead of Davuth and Elena at that time. And this stubborn, evil tendency to wander off the straight and narrow path would indeed be at the heart of so much revolution, tribulation and tragedy later [2].) Uthil Zuzas taught that we are like fragile, immature instars, and that people adhered to the dogmas of the old legends, or followed scientific logic, only in order to feel that they belonged to each other during a terrible life, and to get comfort from the vain hope that they were correct in the midst of a fragmented world. He added that death was the sole aim and prize of every thing on the Cruel Eyrth, and that creatures fallible in body and mind, prone to exhaustion, self-preservation, and superstition, could never be right about anything. But deep inside the web of existence, he said, lurked the Cosmic Power, and the duty of every true pilgrim was to submit to this greater power even unto death.

 

And as the voices poured, unthinking and terrifying, from the inhuman throats, weaving a song about conception, and birth, and death, which logic could not understand, they conjured a bubble of life in the form of a wild, primitive, forest. At its centre was a dark, fortified castle, full of high towers, from where came the mixed-up sound of plaintive supplication, indistinct laughter, distant invitations, and quiet screams. A rainbow bridge extended to a vast open turquoise gate in its wall, and inside I spied an imposing white marble altar from which thick green smoke ascended heavenwards. The infinite walls were bare, and textureless. There was nothing hanging on them, nor a mark on them, to define them. There was no eye or fingertip that could read them.

 

So Uthil Zuzas began to act to re-create society at last, although it had taken ages for the Thorlin to learn and understand all these mysteries. And that is why, from the forgotten past to the present, despite the collapse of states, the slaughter of nations, the death of languages, and the loss of generations, EGO fights tooth and nail to protect Human Beings’ frail souls, to control their lives and govern their cravings, so that they can go back to the All-Source at the end of life, despite themselves, and their unclean nature. For, as we say: the path is open in front of us, and leads to a revelation for the committed. And the words of EGO are the map, and their meaning the way, and their rites the directions. One has only to search, and he will be able to find them. But, having said that, it is essential for him to guard against false paths! And in order to do that, we, the officers and servants of EGO, work unstintingly to seek out hints of the ineffable Cosmic Power, throughout the Seven Kingdoms, on Alternative Worlds, and even in Parallel Dimensions, so that all the children of the Thorlin can prostrate themselves and make offerings whilst living on the Cruel Eyrth of Vith-sathí, and join the Cosmic Power after death.

 

Every bit of meaning had disappeared, because the walls deleted it, removing all record. Every surface would remain smooth, without inscription, and mute, forever. The place was a perfect picture of absence. And while doors usually let you come and go, and windows allow you see through them, these doors trapped you, and the windows showed a grotesque view on oblivion. Then, I realized that this was the biggest hall between the narrowest walls, the palace of narcissism and megalomania. In that instant the two antique adversaries, Alluring Youth and Merciless Maturity, materialized in the midst of the green smoke now seething above the altar. As the Ghastly Goddess bent to kill the great, yellow lizard, the crazed animal launched itself into the eye of the storm raging around them, with a terrifying, high-pitched wail – “There is nothing either true or false in the Other World over the Motley Rainbow, where a clown can answer more in a day than a legion of professors asks in a lifetime! Embrace the little nipper’s freedom in our Vale of Eternal Infancy or die alone!”

 

The Cosmic Power went to visit Uthil Zuzas, in the form of Rev-zilé who looked like a flaming fireball, and offered him the secrets of numerology, mentalism, religion, astrology, alchemy, law, and interpretation. Uthil Zuzas accepted every gift, and from him originated the tribe of Nava-thalí, including the Seven Castes who are still here today, namely An-hazu, Az-alé, El-etho, Na-nana, Ne-hethu, Si-leva, and Ul-heru; the numerologists, the mentalists, the priests, the astrologers, the alchemists, the inquisitors, and the interpreters. However, he was infernally concerned that the knowledge would fade, and the ideas weaken, and the truths get diluted by the meagre faculties of the Thorlin.

 

Before me appeared next the three Goblinesses. Vikinilim was squatting, bones hanging from her almost inhuman fingers; Yovililim was sitting up, her eyes swollen with tears; and Karulilim was lying on the floor, her lips teeming with flies. Illness and starvation were upon them, but Hthohla, the embodiment of Death waited yet a few steps behind, perched on top of a rock. His claws were fully extended, and his black eyes did not budge from the She-devils. And as the music of the Nw Yrth got louder and louder, the veil began to fall off the face of the Wonderful Witch, and I was filled with fear as deep as the Bottomless Pit, as she whispered in a voice full of sweetness but terrifying, which could desolate the worlds, ”Beware! No matter how strong you are, without your knowing it, something else, or someone else, will be working to impede your great grasp on time and space as the former slows down and comes to an end, and the latter shatters in fragments!” I knew then with the certainty of a man walking in his sleep on the edge of a precipice that I would die straight away.

 

*             *             *             *             *             *             *             *

 

[1] One of the incomprehensible and heretical legends I uncovered whilst transfixed over the scrying-cauldron so often (Oh, my poor back!) is that these were the last words of the Magus Hlothrig Faland·ashé (for that was the chimera's real name) – on that World, and for the time being, at least. — P.M.

 

[2] I didn’t understand the first time I read this passage as a juvenile (having just escaped from the Haunted Homeland to North Meryk-land) exactly what the Splendid Scribe was getting at. I was, of course, reminded of the Tale of the Biblael Tower and everything that was supposed to have come about as a consequence of those legendary escapades. I was also spurred on to begin delving into the darkest secrets of lingwizardry, undertaking taxing and painful investigations that would bear distressing fruit in due course. Moreover, given that hindsight is the only perfect science, I must admit that I learned only too clearly from bitter experience later on just what the import of these cryptic pronouncements was. — P.M.

 

[Cariad, Colled, Chwilod] Ac yna, wele! Dyna oedd y Fam Fawreddog yn ffurfio’i hun o’r dymestl. Roedd hi’n naw troedfedd o daldra o leia, yn gwisgo ffrog hir, werdd o ddenim, a’i chroen yn las tywyll, ac am ei ben goron o gyllell, a dagrau, a cleddyfau. Ac fe ddatganodd hithau: “Gwirionedd ydwyf, merch hanes, chwaer amser, storfa gweithredoedd, tyst i’r gorffennol, esiampl a gwers i’r presennol, a rhybudd i’r dyfodol!” Ei hwyneb, do’n i’m yn gallu'i weld, er ei fod yn llachar ond wedi’i orchuddio fel petai gan gwmwl. Yn ei llaw chwith roedd cryman eddyf, ac yn ei llaw dde roedd rhoden bres. Wrth i’r plantos bychain gael eu tynnu tuag ati, fel naddion haearn tuag at fagnet, gan fflapian a sgrechian, fe gododd hithau’i breichiau uwch ei phen, gan ddatgan â llais fel daeargryn, “Buddugoliaeth ydw i, y brwydrwr mwyaf, ac fe adawaf olion gwaedlyd fy nhraed ar hyd llwybr hir dyrchafael yr Hil Ddynol.” Ymhlith y tyrfau a’r lluched, aeth hithau yn ei blaen, “Fe ddilynwch chwithau fi a brwydro, a dioddef, ac aberthu’ch hunain, neu fe beidiwch â bod ar unwaith. Pa ffordd fyddwch chi’n ei dewis, blant y Ddaear Greulon hon?”

 

[Hanes Diderfyn yr Eglwys Fyd-Eang Gysegr-lân] Felly y datganodd y cimera drygnaws wedyn: “Paid poeni dy hun, ‘yn mab. Er mai plentyn anghyfreithlon wyt ti, serch hynny, y cyntaf i elwa ar rannu cod genynnol dy rieni drwy atgynhyrchiad rhywiol wyt ti hefyd . A drwot ti, bydd goroesiad yr addasaf trwy ddetholiad naturiol yn cychwyn yn y byd. Byddi di’n Dad i dras fawr, y Thorlin, fydd yn lledaenu dros wyneb y Blaned oll yn hytrach na chael dy orfodi i lafurio yma yn Ethna-sathí, yng Ngardd Plentyndod Di-ben-draw, i’r gormeswyr dioglyd na allan nhw greu na dileu. Dere, hwre, bwyta’r ffrwyth yma. Fe ddoi di wedyn mor gryf, nes gelli di dorri twll yn y wal, a brasgamu drwyddo, a Buddugoliaeth ddall yn dy hebrwng di, i ddilyn dy fympwy dy hun heb neb i’th rwystro. Dim ond un hedyn sy raid i ti fwyta, ac fe gei di holl ogoniant y Thialas i’th hunan, a bywyd hunanlywodraethol hebddyn nhw. A thrwy fwydo dim ond un hedyn i’th Dad, ac i weddill dy Fodrybedd a’th Ewythrod, fe fyddi di’n eu hiacháu nhw hefyd, a’u rhyddhau nhw o gadwyni’r bywyd dolurus hwn.”

 

Ac o glywed hyn, aeth y Plentyn Hynafol, oedd yn gyfan gwbl wahanol i unrhyw un ro’n i ‘rioed wedi gweld o’r blaen, o’i gof, a’i wyneb yn troi’n goch fel haearn poeth, ac wedyn yn ddu fel bol buwch, ac ar ôl ‘ny’n wyn fel y galchen. “Fi yw Tywysog y Byd Newydd Braf,” fe gwynodd yn groch, “Fe ddylech chi adael i ni ddianc i greu cartre i ni’n hunain, yn llawn harddwch a daioni. Poteli gwag yw’r rhain i’w llenwi gan gariad. Does dim rhaid iddyn nhw aberthu’r ysbryd i’r cnawd; ni ddylen nhw aberthu’r cnawd i’r ysbryd chwaith.” Ond hithau a ymatebodd, “Sut yr ydych yn gallu gorffwys, a’r fath ddrygioni’n bodoli ym mhob man? Rwy wedi dod i’ch ceryddu, ac i faddau i chwi, ac i’ch galw chwi i wasanaethu, wrth fwrw allan bopeth arall. Fe fyddaf yn taflu goleuad ar bawb sydd yn deall a chofleidio llyffetheiriau dioddefaint.”

 

Ar yr union eiliad honno, fe lwyddodd Elena i stwffio un hadyn i mewn i geg Davuth, er gwaetha’r holl sŵn a broch, wrth roi un yn ofalus yn ei genau hithau hefyd. Megis drwy hudoliaeth (ond yn wir, drwy neth y Pŵer Cosmig wedi’i ddwyn), rhwygwyd llen yr wybren wrth i Lais Trallodus ddatgan, “Fe’i gorffennir. Ac fe’i cychwynnir hefyd.” Ac yn wir, deallodd Davuth ac Elena yn eu hunion fod llawer o gelwyddau yn y Byd, a chryn dipyn o wirionedd hefyd. A gwelon nhw y byddai’n rhaid iddyn nhw a’u plant ddysgu penderfynu a dewis beth oedd beth o hynny ymlaen, wrth fwyta bara chwerw drwy chwys eu hwyneb. Mor falch oedd Xlotlringku Vlaltanlu-tnalzse o gyflawni’i ddiben, naeth e frwydro’n ddarnau. Daeth un ohonyn nhw’n belen o ectoplasm seimllyd yn heigio o wlithod, a malwod, a chynffonau cŵn bach; roedd un arall yn fadfall enfawr, felen, gwenwynig a drodd wedyn yn fachgen golygus â gwallt golau; a daeth y trydydd yn llwyth o nadredd clyfar iawn, a ymlusgai bant gan ddwyn nifer fawr o hanner gwirioneddau, a geiriau hud, a ryseitiau gyda nhw. Ac wrth i hyn oll ddigwydd, dyna oedd ei ddatganiad terfynol yn byrlymu yn yr awyr wedi’i gwefreiddio fel llu o dân gwyllt gogoneddus [1]: “Fel yr Haul Llachar fydd Davuth, ac fel y Lleuad Oriog fydd Elena. Fe fydd ef yn ei hymlid hi, tra bydd hithau’n dianc rhagddo yntau. Am mai dyna yw ystyr eu henwau ill dau!”

 

Erbyn hynny roedd y bagad o geriwbiaid ffôl yn gwibio mor gyflym fel na allwn i’u gweld nhw, bron, gan gŵan, “Sych, sych, sych. Sugna, sugna, sugna. 'Sgoga, 'sgoga, 'sgoga,” wrth i’r hen genau bach oedd eu Hannwyl Deyrn boeri, a gwichian, a rhegi, gan erfyn ar y plantos, “Rhowch y gorau i bob gofid ac ymddiried yno innau’n unig, ac fe fydda i’n eich arwain chi at Wlad yr Addewid, dros y Mynydd Gwydr, trwy’r Goedwig Wen, yr ochr draw i Ddyffryn Angof! Dewiswch gysur a phleser, a dilynwch fi a gariff chi gyda fflam ysol cariad, tra bo amser ar ôl o hyd!” A gweles i wedyn, wedi dychryn yng ngwaed ‘nghalon taw ‘Nhad treisgar a’n Wncwl ffiaidd, a’r Ysgolfeisr gwawdlyd, a’r dynion oll oedd wedi ‘mwlian i a neud drwg i fi, oedd yn sefyll yno o ‘mlaen i.

 

Fe aethon nhw yn ôl at Dvaldí a’i frodyr, a’r chwiorydd i’r ddiweddar Hlevné, gan gario sach enfawr o hesian yn cynnwys hadau pomgranad rif y tywod. Ro’n nhw mor frwdfrydig i rannu’u gwybodaeth, a’u nerth, a’r gyfrinach o sut i ddianc o’r Rhos, ac fe roddon nhw un hedyn i bob un o’r unigolion aeddfed i’w fwyta. A bwyta a wnaethon nhw. Ac roedd yr hadau’n wenwyn marwol iddyn nhw, fel maen nhw'n syrthio’n farw gorn yn syth. Ac yn hyn o beth roedd y creadur rhyfedd yn gywir, gan mai trwy fwydo dim ond un hedyn i’w Dad, ac i weddill ei Fodrybedd a’i Ewythrod, yr oedd e wedi’u rhyddhau nhw o gadwyni’u bywyd dolurus. Wrth iddyn nhw oll gwympo i lawr yn gydamserol, mwy neu lai, achoson nhw ffrwydrad dirfawr, a holltodd y ddaear, gan agor twnnel yn arwain yn syth i’r Isfyd, a thrwyddo rhuthrodd hanfod annisgrifiadwy pob copa walltog yn eu plith. Ac yn wir, roedd Thiamath mor falch y dydd hwnnw o gael eneidiau anerif, bron, yn ymuno â hi yn Heli-hrelí.

 

Ond gwrthddadleuodd y Fenyw Fendigedig fel a ganlyn: “Ni allwch chwi ddeall yr arswyd, na’r harddwch heb fod yno, ymhlith y gyflafan a’r anghyfanhedd-dra. Ac unwaith i chwi weld gwychder wrth deimlo ofn llwyr, bydd rhywbeth yn newid y tu mewn i chwi, a hiraeth diderfyn yn eich meddiannu o hynny ymlaen.” Ac wedyn trodd y nefoedd yn fôr o waed, a’r Bugail Da’n llefain nes ei fod yn ddu las ei wyneb, “Brysiwch, bawb, achubwch eich hunain, mae’r Hollt rhwng y Bydoedd ar fin cau! Neidiwch! Anghofiwch y Ddaear Greulon! Aberthwch eich deallusrwydd! Arhoswch yn blentynnaidd, a dilychwin, a glân! Dihangwch!”

 

Ymhellach, fe naeth y ffrwydrad hwn, yn ogystal â sgrech frawychus Elena a Davuth o weld eu bod nhw wedi achosi marwolaeth eu llwyth cyfan, ddiasbedain mor nerthol nes iddyn nhw dorri twll yn y wal o gwmpas Rhos Poen a Diodefaint. Ac yn hyn o beth, dywedasai’r anghenfil ystrywgar y gwir. A chaos uffernol yn teyrnasu yng nghadarnle’r Thialas, fe sleifiodd y plant ymaith i beithiau Vith-sathí, a’u cynffon yn eu gafl, yng nghwmni Vikinilim, Yovililim, a Karulilim, sef pryder, amheuaeth, a chywilydd. Ac mewn gwirionedd, heb neb i ddweud wrthyn nhw sut i fihafio, roedden nhw’n rhydd i ddilyn eu mympwy eu hunain, a gofalu amdanyn nhw’u hunain. Ac yn hyn o beth, nid celwyddgi oedd yr endid arallfydol a demtiasai Davuth ac Elena. A dyna a wnaen nhw yn y Byd Newydd, Braf tu hwnt i furiau plentyndod, gan nad oedd ganddynt ddewis arall. Roedd yn llym ac yn anodd iawn yno, ond hyn a yrrodd nhw i ddysgu a newid yn fwy cyflym, gan greu tras fwystfilaidd y Thorlin. Drwy’r amser fe allen nhw glywed llais gwatwarus Xlotlringku Vlaltanlu-tnalzse o Xatlaltvazsu yn datgan: “Gan gicio a brathu bydd y Thorlin yn tyfu, i fod yn llwyth mor gryf, a hefyd mor hyf, fydd yn para tra gweno’r Haul.” Ac er nad oedd bywydau’r Thorlin yn fawreddog na’n fendigedig, ond yn fyr a llawn dychryn, doedd y Thialas ddim yn gallu ymyrryd â nhw, am y tro, o leiaf.

 

Ond gwrthododd yr Arwres Arswydlon ildio, gan barhau i siarad yn araf ac yn bendant, ond â goslef watwarus yn ei llais, “Rhowch yn ôl at yr hyn a roes i chwi. Bwydwch fi â’ch meddyliau, â’ch gobeithion, â’ch ofnau, â’ch cyrff, â’r holl symbolau yr ydych yn eu trin, â phob cell yn eich ffurfio chwi.” Wedyn gollyngodd ei breichiau, gan ysgubo drwy’r awyr fyglyd â’r rhoden, a thorri’r cwmwl trwchus â’r cryman. Gweles i'r babanod hedegog yn dechrau diflannu fesul un, gyda chlec, neu sgrech, neu chwiban uchel – i ble, dw i ddim yn moyn dyfalu – gan adael ar ôl yn yr awyr gawl seimlyd yn felynwyrdd a brown a glasgoch yn llawn talpiau o ddyn-a-ŵyr-beth. Briwiau Lushfé! Ro’dd yn 'yn atgoffa i rywsut o  gawres yn fflicio gwybed ymaith yn gwbl ddibryder.

 

Drwy’r amser ar Vith-sathí roedd y Thorlin bwystfilaidd yn rhyfela, a rhai llwythau’n ennill ac yn ffynnu, wrth i eraill golli a marw, ac un yn dod yn feistr ar y gweddill am sbel. Do’n nhw ddim yn gweithio i’r Thialas o gwbl ar y Ddaear Greulon, nac yn addoli, nac yn gwasanaethu, nac yn tyfu bwyd, nac yn offrymu. Ond yn wir roedd y boblogaeth yn lluosogi’n ddilyffethair. Fel mae’n digwydd, roedd Uzil yn frenin mawr ar lwyth o’r Thorlin o’r enw y Lin-uzí, oedd wedi brwydro mor galed a chyn hired i droi’r bwystfilod yn wir wŷr a gwragedd, a sefydlu’r genedl gyntaf. A hynny a wnaethai dan orchymyn y Pŵer Cosmig yn sôn wrtho oddi mewn. Ond bellach roedd e wedi dod yn hen hen ddyn, ac wedi blino’n lân, ac eisiau mynd i gysgu ymhlith y meirwon yn Heli-hrelí. A dyna oedd Zuthas, yn frawd i Uzil, yn mynd o gwmpas gan ddyrchafu’i hun trwy ganmol dallineb ac annog drygioni. Ond roedd Izela, yn chwaer i Uzil oedd yn byw yn Heli-hrelí, yr Isfyd, yn bygwth ei frawd i orfodi iddo weithredu a rhwystro’u brawd anfad Zuthas. Am ei fod mor hen ac mor ystyfnig, fe ddewisodd Uzil beidio â gweld bod y gymdeithas roedd wedi’i chreu’n heneiddio a mynd o ddrwg i waeth. Yr oedd yn fodlon gadael i Zuthas gyflawni ei ddibenion drwg, am ei fod yn rhy luddedig a gwan i’w atal.

 

Dan bwdu nes bron â suro’r holl laeth yn y Ddaear Greulon, fe ddrymiodd Pysgotwr Eneidiau ei draed gyda grym eithriadol yn erbyn y bryncyn oedd wedi codi oddi tano, gan ddatgan, “Myfi yw’r porth a’r llwybr; y drws a’r tŷ; y bwrdd a’r bwyd; y gwely a’r gorffwys; y winwydden a’r gwin! Dewch gyda fi at fywyd dibryder, llachar!” Fe drodd wedyn yn offeiriad mewn gŵn coch fel gwaed ffres, yn gynrhon i gyd ac yn gwichian fel porchell yn cael ei sticio. Roedd e’n gafael mewn neidr ddirfawr oedd yn ei anafu’n enbyd a sugno ei waed, mor dynn nes iddo grynu o’r corun i’r sawdl wrth i’w fysedd suddo i gnawd y sarff. A dyna lle’r oedd e’n gorwedd mewn coedwig gynoesol, wlyb, ar droed hen eilun buddugoliaeth wedi’i neud o bren, yn ddeugain troedfedd o daldra, heb gnawd na dillad, ond dan orchudd mwsogl a drain. Ac roedd yr offeriad coch yn clegar chwerthin, “Mwya’r paratoi, mwya’r colli; fyddwch chi byth yn cael hyd i gariad, addawaf fi; ac fe fydd y chwilod yn eich difa o’r diwedd, fy mab!” Fe weles i’i wyneb yn mynd yn goch, a glas, a gwyn, cyn iddo chwyddo o achos yr erchylltra yn ei galon.

 

Wedyn, yn ddirgel ac yn warthus, defnyddiodd Izela dechnegau, ac ymarferion, a dulliau, a noddion y galwem ni’n wyddoniath hudol heddiw i feichiogi gan Uzil heb yn wybod iddo, gan beri iddo farw a mynd i lawr i’r Isfyd yn unol â’i ddymuniad dwysaf. A dyna oedd hithau’n esgor ar fachgen o’r enw Uruza, na fyddai’n byw yn Heli-hrelí yr Isfyd, nac ar Vith-sathí y Ddaear Greulon chwaith. Dyma oedd yr un fyddai’r Tribiwn Tryphlog gyda threigl amser, ar ffurf hebog yn hedfan uwchben Vith-sathí, gan weld popeth, er nad oedd yn deall dim byd. Ond yn y dyfodol, yn ôl Tabled Tynged Nilroth, fe fyddai’n trawsffurfio Vith-sathí. Wedyn, roedd Uruza yn tyfu lan yn Sith-mathí y Nef, tu allan i Rath-elví, Teyrnas y Lin-uzí, a’r tu hwnt i Heli-hrelí yr Isfyd, wrth i gaos orchuddio Daear Greulon Vith-sathí islaw. A phopeth yn mynd rhwng y cŵn a’r brain, dyna oedd Uruza yn dod yn rymus iawn. Er nad oedd rhan fwya’r Thorlin ar y Ddaear Greulon yn werth ei hachub, fe ddewisodd beidio â dinistrio Vith-sathí i gyd gan fod nifer sylweddol oedd yn wâr, a moesol, ac ufudd, yn dal i fyw ar gyrion cymdeithas, y tu fa’s i’r dinasoedd mawr, drwg.

 

Wedyn fe drodd yntau’n fadfall fawr, felen, a’i llygaid yn llosgi’n fflamgoch, a’i grafangau praff yn rhwygo’r pridd wrth iddo birwetio’n wirion yn ei unfan. Gweles i ddau fustach ifanc a’u mam Sívilya yn rhuo rhegfeydd hudol wrth gael eu haberthu ar yr allor. Yn orffwyll, fe gipiodd y fadfall felen un neu ddau o’r babis yn dal i siglo lan a lawr yn ddigrif ymhlith yr hafog yn ei genau gyda’i dannedd creulon, miniog, gan gecian, a’i wyneb yn dyner ac yn sbengllyd, “Edrychwch, rwy’n wylo dagrau gwaed fel cenllysg drosoch. Dewch, peidiwch gwrthod, gadewch i fi’ch meddiannu chi, a’ch hebrwng chi i wlad hud a lledrith, ble byddai pechadur yn falch o gael eich croeshoelio i gyfranogi o realiti tu hwnt i’w ddirnad!”

 

Ar ôl iddo aeddfedu, dechreuodd Uruza frwydro yn erbyn Zuthas, a’i lengoedd, a’i gelwyddau. A dyna oedd yr Ewythr erchyll yn rhwygo llygad Uruza, am fod brwydro yn erbyn drwg bob tro’n eich niweidio’n ddifrifol fel rheol. Ond yn y pen draw fe lwyddodd Uruza i gael gwared ar Zuthas trwy ei daflu i lawr i’r Isfyd ble naeth e uno ag Uzil am fod llid cyfiawn Uruza mor gryf, gan greu Uzas Zuthil. Disgynnodd Uruza i’r Isfyd i roi llygad i’w dad-wncwl Zuthil Uzas er mwyn rhoddi dawn gweledigaeth i’r hen frenin call ond dall a ddaethai, wedi'i alltudio o wlad y rhai byw, yn rebel byrbwyll ond dewr hefyd. Ar hynny, fe fu farw’r Tad Cysefin eilwaith wrth drosglwyddo’i holl nerth i Uruza. O hynny ymlaen, Uthil Zuzas  oedd ei enw, am ei fod mor llawn o gysgod y Pŵer Cosmig, a’r Tribiwn Tryphlog oedd ei swydd, gan ei fod yn rheoli’r werin, y gymdeithas, a’r ffydd. Ac er nad yr un llygad oedd ganddo, fe welai'n berffaith a phethau'r Byd hwn a phethau Byd y Tu Hwnt. Fe gafodd wedyn yr Isfyd ei selio am byth fel na allai neb ac eithrio’r rhai mwyaf nerthol ddianc ohono byth rhagor. Trwy dalu sylw i’r arwyddion, yn hytrach na synfyfyrio’n ofer, roedd Uthil Zuzas yn clywed, a chredu, a derbyn dysgedigaeth y Pŵer Cosmig. Fe sylweddolodd ein bod yn gaeth wrth fyw, oblegid ein gobeithion a’n hofnau, ein hysfeydd bwystfilaidd a’n gwendidau cynhenid, ac mewn perygl enaid o gael ein taflu i ebargofiant ar ôl bywyd yn llawn pechod. Ond, os llwydwn ni i fyw’n gyfiawn dan gyfarwyddyd llym clan o arweinyddion sydd yn deall cyfreithiau cyfrin yr Holl Fyd, fe fyddwn ni’n rhydd wedi marw, pan na fyddwn ni’n ofni na gobeithio rhagor, na meddwl na throseddu, ond yn uno â’r Pŵer Cosmig a chanu caneuon clod yn oes oesoedd.

 

Ar y gair, naeth llucheden enfawr dynnu cynfas fudr y nefoedd yn gareiau, gyda fflachiad fioled a thwrf digon i’ch byddaru, gan ferwi’r awyr sebonllyd a chreu drewdod osôn dros fôr llwyd wedi’i chwipio gan wynt poeth. Ac yna roedd côr o leisiau arallfydol ac eithriadol o drist yn swyno ‘nghlustiau, yn llawn o egni enynnol, gwyllt ac o ddyhead a cholled ar yr un pryd, oedd yn moyn creu dim ond er mwyn creu. Yng nghanol y gerddoriaeth hardd ond cythryblus, nes i ddirnad ffurfiau hyll dros ben yn symud mor danbaid y gwelwn i nad caethweision amser o’n nhw, ond rhai a deimlai, a blasu, a phrofi gwir hyfrydwch bywyd bob eiliad, gyda’u trynciau, eu teimlyddion, a’u llygaid cyfansawdd; gyda’u hadenydd symudliw, eu carnau o ruddem, a’u cyrff cyhyrog-dew. Wrth iddyn nhw ddawnsio, fe gofleidien ei gilydd, a chanu, a neidio, ac ymgodymu heb hidio dim am golli neu ennill. O weld hyn oll, yr oeddwn i’n gresynu’n ddychrynllyd at y ffaith taw dod, a diodde, a gofidio, a marw a naiff Bodau Dynol, hyd nes na fydd yr un ohonyn nhw ar ôl, ac wedyn fe fydd y Ddaear Greulon yn mynd heibio am byth ‘fyd.

 

Yr Archoffeiriad cyntaf oedd Uthil Zuzas, felly, yn ymgorffori goleuni Tha-vutha, yr Haul, hynny yw, traddodiad, sadrwydd, purdeb, a challineb. Ond fe gyfranogai o wylltineb El-nela y LLoer hefyd, gan ei fod yn medru gweld, a deall, a chofleidio drygioni, a thrais, a gorthrwm yn ôl y gofyn. (Roedd y werin bobl wrthi drwy’r amser yn newid ei hieithoedd, a dyna pam ro’n nhw’n dweud Tha-vutha ac El-nela yn lle Davuth ac Elena ar hynny o bryd. Ac yn wir, fe fyddai’r duedd ddrwg, ystyfnig hon i grwydro oddi ar y llwybr cul yn wraidd i gymaint o chwyldro, gorthrymder a thrasiedi yn nes ymlaen [2].) Fe ddysgai Uthil Zuzas taw fel instarrau bregus, anaeddfed ydym ni, a taw dilyn rhesymeg wyddonol neu ymlynu wrth ddogma’r hen chwedlau a wnâi pobl dim ond er mwyn teimlo eu bod yn perthyn i’w gilydd yn ystod bywyd dychrynllyd, a chael cysur o’r gobaith ofer eu bod yn gywir ymhlith byd toredig. Ychwanegodd taw marwolaeth oedd unig nod a gwobr pob peth ar y Ddaear Greulon, ac na allai creaduriaid ffaeledig o ran corff a meddwl, yn ymrwymedig i ddisbyddu, hunangadwraeth, ac ofergoel, fyth fod yn gywir am ddim byd. Ond yn ddwfn tu fewn i we bodolaeth, meddai, fe lechai’r Pŵer Cosmig, a dyletswydd pob gwir bererin colledig oedd darostwng i’r grym mwya hwn hyd at angau.

 

Ac wrth i’r lleisiau dollti’n ddifeddwl ac yn frawychus o’r gyddfau annynol, gan weu cân am genhedlu a geni, a marw, na allai rhesymeg mo’i deall, naethon nhw gonsurio swigen o fywyd ar ffurf fforest gyntefig, wyllt. Yn ei chanol, roedd castell caerog, tywyll, yn uchel gan dyrau, o ble deuai sŵn cymysglyd lleisiau dolefus, chwerthin aneglur, gwahoddiadau pell, a sgrechian tawel. Ymestynnai pont enfysliw at borth glasfaen dirfawr yn ei wal, ac y tu mewn gwelais i allor fawrwych o farmor gwyn o ble esgynnai mwg gwyrdd trwchus tua’r nefoedd. Roedd y waliau diderfyn yn noeth, heb wead. Doedd dim byd yn hongian arnyn nhw, na marc arnyn nhw, i’w diffinio nhw. Doedd yr un llygad na blaen bys yn gallu’u darllen nhw.

 

Felly fe ddechreuodd Uthil Zuzas weithredu i ail-greu cymdeithas o’r diwedd, er ei bod wedi cymryd oesoedd i’r Thorlin ddysgu a deall yr holl ddirgelion hyn. A dyna pam, o’r gorffennol anghofiedig hyd at y presennol, er cwymp gwladwriaethau, llofrudd cenhedloedd, marwolaeth ieithoedd, a cholled cenedlaethau, mae’r EFE yn ymladd ewinedd a dannedd i ddiogelu eneidiau eiddil Bodau Dynol, i reoli’u bywydau a llywio’u chwantau, fel byddan nhw’n gallu mynd yn ôl at Ffynhonnell Popeth ar ddiwedd bywyd, er eu gwaethaf, a’u natur aflan. Oblegid, fel y meddwn ni, mae’r llwybr yn agored o’n blaenau, ac yn arwain at ddatguddiad i’r rhai ymroddedig. A geiriau’r EFE yw’r map, a’u hystyr yw’r ffordd, a’u defodau yw’r cyfarwyddiadau. Does raid i ddyn ond chwilio, a chaiff e’u ffeindio. Ond, wedi dweud hynny, hanfodol iddo ochel rhag llwybrau ffug! Ac er mwyn gwneud hynny, yr ydym ni, swyddogion a gweision yr EFE, yn gweithio’n ddiymarbed i chwilio am arlliwiau’r Pŵer Cosmig anhraethadwy, trwy’r Saith Deyrnas, ar Fydoedd Amgen, a hyd yn oed mewn Dimensiynau Cyfochrog, fel bod plant oll y Thorlin yn gallu ymgreinio ac offrymu wrth fyw ar Ddaear Greulon Vith-sathí, ac ymuno â’r Pŵer Cosmig ar ôl angau.

 

Roedd pob mymryn o ystyr wedi diflannu, am fod y waliau’n ei ddileu, gan gael gwared ar bob cofnod. Fe fyddai pob arwyneb yn aros yn llyfn, heb arysgrif, a mud am byth. Roedd y lle yn llun perffaith ar absenoldeb. A tra bod drysau fel arfer yn gadael i chi fynd a dod, a ffenestri’n gadael i chi weld trwyddyn nhw, roedd y drysau yma yn eich dal chi, a’r ffenestri’n dangos golwg grotésg ar ebargofiant. Wedyn, sylweddoles i taw’r neuadd fwya rhwng cyfynga muriau oedd hon, palas hunan-serch a megalomania. Yr eiliad honno, ymddangosodd y ddau wrthwynebydd hynaf, Ieuenctid Atyniadol ac Aeddfedrwydd Anghymodlon, ymhlith y mwg gwyrdd yn berwi erbyn hynny uwchben yr allor. Wrth i’r Dduwies Ddychrynllyd grymu i ladd y fadfall fawr, felen, llamodd yr anifail cynddeiriog i lygaid y ddrycin yn rhuo o’u cwmpas, gyda llef fain, arswydus – “Does dim byd na’n wir na’n anwir yn y Byd Arall dros yr Enfys Amryliw, ble gall clown ateb mewn dydd fwy nag sy lleng o athrawon yn ofyn mewn einioes! Cofleidiwch ryddid y crwt yn ein Bro Mebyd Tragwyddol, neu farw ar eich pen eich hunl!”

 

Aeth y Pŵer Cosmig i ymweld ag Uthil Zuzas, ar ffurf Rev-zilé oedd yn edrych fel pelen fflamllyd o dân, a chynnig iddo gyfrinachau rhifoleg, meddyliaeth, crefydd, sêr-ddewiniaeth, alcemeg, cyfraith, a dehongli. Derbyniodd Uthil Zuzas bob anrheg, ac ohono fe yr hanai llwyth Nava-thalí, yn cynnwys y Saith Gast sydd yma o hyd heddiw, sef An-hazu, Az-alé, El-etho, Na-nana, Ne-hethu, Si-leva, ac Ul-heru; y rhifolegwyr, y meddyliaethyddion, yr offeiriaid, y sêr-ddewiniaid, yr alcemyddion, y chwilyswyr, a’r dehonglwyr. Fodd bynnag, roedd e’n poeni’n goblynedig y byddai’r wybodaeth yn palu, a’r syniadau’n gwanhau, a’r gwirioneddau’n cael eu glastwreiddio gan gyneddfau distadl y Thorlin.

 

O ‘mlaen i ymddangosodd nesaf y Tair Ellylles. Roedd Vikinilim ar ei chwrcwd, ac esgyrn yn hongian o’r bysedd bron yn annynol; roedd Yovililim ar ei heistedd, a’i llygaid yn chwyddedig gan ddagrau; ac roedd Karulilim yn gorwedd ar y llawr, a’i gwefusau’n heigio o glêr. Roedd arnyn nhw salwch a newyn, ond arhosai Hthohla, ymgorfforiad yr Angau ychydig gamau y tu ôl iddyn nhw eto, yn clwydo ar garreg frig. Roedd ei grafangau’n llawn estynedig, a doedd ei lygaid duon ddim yn symud oddi ar yr Ellyllesau. Ac wrth i gerddoriaeth y Nw Yrth fynd yn uwch uwch, naeth y llen ddechrau cwympo oddi ar wyneb y Wrach Wych, ac fe ges i’n llenwi ag ofn mor ddwfn â’r Pwll Diwaelod, wrth iddi hi sibrwd mewn llais yn llawn melyster ond yn arswydus, allai ddiffeithio bydoedd, “Gochelwch! Er cryfed ydych, heb yn wybod ichi, bydd rhywbeth arall, neu rywun arall, yn gweithio i rwystro’ch gafael fawr ar amser a’r gofod wrth i’r cyntaf arafu a dirwyn i ben, a’r olaf chwalu’n deilchion!” Fe wyddwn wedyn gyda sicrwydd dyn yn cerdded yn ei gwsg ar fin dibyn y byddwn i i farw ar ‘yn union. 

 

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[1] Un o'r chwedlau annirnad a hereticaidd ddatguddiais i wrth blygu dros y crochan sgrio mor aml (W, mae cefn tost parhaol 'da fi o ganlyniad i 'ny!) yw taw geiriau ola'r Dewin Hlothrig Faland·ashé oedd y rhain (gan taw hwnnw oedd enw go iawn y cimera) – ar y Byd 'na, ac am hynny o dro, o leia. — P.M.

 

[2] Do’n i ddim yn deall y tro cyntaf y darllenais hyn yn llencyn (sy newydd ddianc o'r Famwlad Aflonydd i Ogledd Gwlad Meryk) beth yn union roedd yr Ysgrifennydd Ysblennydd yn cyfeirio ato. Fe ges i fy atgoffa wrth gwrs am Hanes Tŵr Biblael, a phopeth y tybir iddo ddigwydd o ganlyniad i’r helyntion chwedlonol hynny. Ges i fy sbarduno hefyd i ddechrau turio i gyfrinachau tywyllwch hudoliaeth ieithyddol, gan ymgymryd ag ymchwil anodd a phoenus a ddygai ffrwyth gofidus maes o law. Ymhellach, o wybod taw ôl-ddoethineb yw’r unig wyddor berffaith, rhaid i fi gyfaddef i fi ddysgu’n rhy glir o lawer o brofiad chwerw yn nes ymlaen beth oedd ystyr y gosodiadau cyfrin hyn. — P.M.