Creation Genesis – The Seventh Day

Chronicle Entry – Secret Annex
Recorded by Brother Wyn of Caermynach, Anno Domini 918
Known As: The Seventh Day, Y Seithfed Dydd
Date of Events: The Seventh Day of Creation (Anno Mundi 1)
Source Text: Holy Scripture and accounts from one who refused
Status: Concerns direct rebellion against divine command

God rested on the seventh day, and the world held to what had already been set. Land and sea kept their bounds. The lights continued in their courses. The vineyard bore its order without further touch, and the labour of the previous days asked nothing more.

The Ancient Ones did not return to their tending.

Across the ground, paths once cleared were left as they stood. Where hands had worked without pause, tools lay where they had last been set down, and the small movements that had carried the long labour forward did not resume. The quiet of the day did not ease what had been unsettled.

Beyond the vineyard, Eden lay whole and undisturbed, seen and set apart. No one mistook it for the ground beneath their feet. Eyes went there and stayed.

The Council

Where the fabric of the world thinned, they gathered, stepping into a space reached without passage. With the weight of mountains still upon them, Titans arrived and settled their mass. Jotnar followed more slowly, their care taken against what lay beneath them. Dragons came last, landing unevenly and never fully holding their places.

At the centre of that motion, Brenin Fawr held.

Unmoved.

Near him remained Cadarn, his attention fixed. Further back, Ysgar held with his wings drawn tighter than before, his attention passing between the two. The space between them did not close.

When Brenin spoke, attention was already with him. The labour behind them entered the space through his words: land drawn up from the deep, waters guided to their bounds, the long placing of lights across the dark. The sound of it settled and did not leave.

Only then did Eden find its place in what was said. It stood as a standard laid against their work. The vineyard had been placed into their keeping, but what lay beyond it had not been named as theirs.

Brenin spoke as though the matter now lay open before them.

Those nearest did not move. Further out, the ground answered a single adjustment.

After the pause, Cadarn came forward with softer strides. His voice carried without effort or appeal. The vineyard, he said, had been given into their hands for work. Possession had never been named, and Eden had not been given. Its true purpose remained unspoken.

The quiet that followed lasted long enough for breath to be drawn and then restrained. Brenin did not look away. His voice did not rise or press. Waiting, he said, has its place. This was not it. Caution, once praised, grows accustomed to defending itself against wisdom.

No invitation to reply was offered directly. The words were left where they had fallen.

Ysgar grasped the space that was left open, and heads turned without signal. Labour, he said, had been given without regard. The shaping of the world had been delivered in good faith, only to find inheritance spoken of elsewhere. Eden had marked that difference. A movement passed through the nearest dragons.

Iapetus asked what would follow if God answered them in kind.

Kronos did not wait for the question to settle. When the hand that gives orders is not seen, he said, others reach for what lies ready. What has been shaped does not remain open for long. The valleys of the vineyard would not stand empty while God withheld His answer. If God would not show Himself among them, the Titans would take what lay unattended.

The Jotnar remained set. Mimir’s hands tightened on his staff and eased again. No word came from him.

Brenin allowed the pause to lengthen before speaking. If God opposed them, he said, then He would be answered. If Eden stood at the root of what had been withheld, then it must be cut. The circle around him tightened.

Cadarn spoke again, his voice lowered. Strength raised against God, he said, may not come to rest where it was aimed. Eden was not a thing to strike safely.

Nothing answered.

Brenin turned from Cadarn. God’s word, he said, would be heard directly. Their course would not be set by fragments carried across distance.

No vow would be spoken aloud, and the tools remained untended. The Ancient Ones left in ones and twos, and the circle thinned until it no longer held.

Final Entry

They returned from their council as the light began to shift. The vineyard lay whole beneath its sky, and for a short while it answered as it had an hour before. Then steps slowed without instruction. The air pressed back where it had yielded, and distance took on a weight it had not carried the day before.

At the first breaking of the eighth day, the horizon changed its shape. Where far light had stood unbroken, three vast forms now occupied the bounds, one set to each reach. They held their places without motion, and the open distances no longer passed cleanly around them.

Only then did the quiet of the seventh day take its full measure.