Dance of the Four Gods

The book is a recounting of old histories and tales gathered from far flung unnamed lands, by an unnamed author who provides commentary that ranges from wry to incredulous. Despite the dismissive tone they project about the stories they capture, the author does dutifully capture the stories both in writing and pictorially with care and skill–suggesting they perhaps give the stories an ounce more credence than they doth protest.

The section of interest spans a series of pages, with text accompanying art portraying a pair of men and a pair of women in archaic but impressive tableaus. The four same individuals are always depicted with faces turned out to the reader, unchanging and unnerving underneath four unique and theatrical masks. Their limbs are presented outstretched and clasped differently across the panels, making it appear as if they were dancing through the pages in a form of pagan ritual. As the story continues, one man and one woman depart the dance, leaving only two on the final panel.

The words and images portray the following myth…

In a time before time, when the land was as young and sweet, it was the dominion of four gods. These beings lived among the people, each dwelling in a city made besuited to their liking.

The four, together, were the balance of all creation. They represented reality in its many wheels. They were the turning of the seasons, they were turning of the day, they were the turning of the four directions - and they were the turning of life. The dance of the four gods.

First, as the sun would rise, there was the Morning Lord. He was youthful and handsome and a joy to all around him. He was the dawn, he was the spring - he was all things come to life. He dwelled in the eastern city atop a rise to cast beauty across the land.

Then, there was the White Sun. Brilliant and bold and strong, he was so great it was almost too much to look upon him. He dwelled in the south, high and lording over the land.

Next was Hallowed Eve. Graceful yet sad, melancholic yet joyful—the quietest of the four. She dwelled in a vibrant but humble city in the west on a hill by her favorite tree, that lit up like jewels in the setting sun.

Finally there was Mother Night. She was darkness, but not evil—or not fully so. She was the deep night with bright stars, the luminous and vacillating moon. She lived in the north, in the howling winter hills. But more than the others she dwelt not in her city but flew out among the people in the chilly night winds to offer both solace and malice alike.

For a time there was harmony among the four and happiness in the valley. 

But then, White Sun burned himself out. There is almost no memory of him now, his lofty city long lost, and he no longer shines here. It is said that one small piece, his flaming tear as he burnt out, landed somewhere in the valley. The imbalance left an opening, and Mother Night—who had always been jealous of Hallowed Eve—slipped quietly into her city and deposed her, taking her place. Now, Mother Night has claimed more dominion—evening is not a time for the unwary.

That has left the world with two: the Morning Lord and Mother Night. The Morning Lord remains popular with the people. They pray to him in the hopes he saves them from Mother Night, like the dawn ends the darkness. Mother Night has been ascendant for some time however, though not many would say they actually worship her. Those that do often have unusual arrangements with her, or are creatures of darkness that dwell in her time.

And such sits the state of the world, both balanced and imbalanced.

The authors commentary is as follows:

“These particular myths are some of the oldest collected here, at this point are of little matter besides children’s tales and sad elven paeans. Even the two gods we know of today in Barovia, which map to this tale, do not have any presence–let alone physical form. And their cities, if such existed, vanished from the world. However, considering the valley and its locales, it can be fairly said that — with some basic surveyance —  one might find some semblance of proof of them. The last footprints of the four.”