FANTASY PIECES

THE TALE of CHAOS and ORDER

November 20, 2018

CHAOS AND ORDER.

Two souls, one body…

We were lovers born together, intertwined in the womb, side by side we formed, in the days of yore. Black and white, two souls in a body inanimate; we took a lifeless form for a host and grew like twin ivy crawling over a dead log. Our strength would enchant the inert body to life and it would quake in our wake, spasmodically flailing its limbs as the two of us roiled massively inside, violently warring and loving.

But then came the time when one had to leave this hollow body and efflux into the world – to be exhaled into the air and to take the wind as its thrall, to hold the Earth in its iron fingers. And the other one was left a lonely prisoner inside, slowly waxing, watching, waiting to strike. I loved her and she me, but the spellwork of this body held us separated; one outside in the wide world, another inside this host of a body. She could no more go where I was, and I no more where she was, for…

…she was the soul of chaos and I the soul of order. We couldn’t live side by side.

So we engaged in this amusing dance, where we kill and birth each other rhythmically. This battle between us, ever-graceful and unceasing, decides the fate of the Earth that we hold.

We war silently for days. Then one day, vanquished at the tip of my sword she retreats into the body for refuge and sleeps there in the depth, silently gathering power and reforming. In the meanwhile, I drift across the boundary of the body and seal myself in her place outside. We switch.

Time flows and I reach my zenith of strength in the outside, controlling the Earth in the law of order, while she has reformed completely again, well rested and powerful, waiting in the womb, patiently to strike. I rise, high and high, and higher to the peak of order. That’s when she rushes out at me, shoving me off my precipice, felling me to my death. Now vanquished, I return weak to the womb, and she takes my crown, breaking out the world into chaos. Chaos, rising from the heart of order.

So people sing, that from the heights of order is born the chaos. That the end of the era of order is the beginning of the days of chaos, and the peak of the days of chaos ends in a scream of plea for order. This is the cycle, the way of the world. This is our dance, eternal and unchanging.

Now I drawl in defeat, and withdraw into the shadows, as powerless as chaos once was in this world. With every breath reforming, I wait in the womb, while chaos runs her rule rampant on Earth.

.

In my silence, confined in this body, I think of her, my twin, my saviour. For as much as we are death to one another, we are comrades as well, granting the boon of life to each other. She reigns the Earth in my place when I rest, and as she grows weary I bear her crown for her. Together we hold the Earth in our rule, order and chaos; together, for one couldn’t do it alone for too long.

That’s why we were two souls in a body, intertwined, black and white. While men thought that order killed chaos and chaos killed order, in truth we gave life to each other. What would happen if one had to die? How long would the other rule without breaking to the bone with the longing for respite?

No, we are immortal because we hold one another. Isn’t the very definition of chaos the absence of order, and that of me the absence of chaos? So how would one exist without the other?

Together we are rulers, alone we are ruined. We are two souls in one body.

.

© 2018 Sahana Narendran

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