CHAPTER 1 - THE SEASONS

When our world was very young, spring and fall were the shortest of seasons, lasting so few days that they were not given names or acknowledged as seasons. During the long summer, when all the land was fertile and clad in vibrant greens underneath white clouds, the Prince of the Green sheltered all creatures and plants within his gentle embrace. The look of a man to disguise himself when traversing the land, the Prince of the Green wore upon his head antlers made of tree branches and a crown of ferns and flowers trellised upon those branches. He wrapped himself in a mantle of moss and leaves as he wandered forests to grant his favor upon the plants and animals. He smelled of the plants and where he stepped bloomed fantastic flowers that no man had ever seen. He was the most beautiful of all the gods, with hair spun of sunlight that rustled in the warm breeze. The Prince of the Green's beauty was coveted by all who saw him, and all wished to gain his attention.

All but one harbored affection for the Prince of the Green, and that one was whom the Prince of the Green sought.

During the long winter, the Prince of the White would visit the lands that the Prince of the Green had ruled for just as many cycles of the moon. He had a youthful face and icy white skin, but his disposition was cold and none would dare to anger him. Before the current gods had come to rule, the Prince of the White had lived before when the world was frozen in ice. He was the oldest of the gods and his bitterness at no longer ruling everything was well known. When it was time for him to change the season, he would make short conversation with the Prince of the Green, if he made conversation at all. It was clear to all that he disliked sharing his time on the land. All creatures had once been his to rule over, and now they belonged to both. The Prince of the Green understood the old god's anger and respected him greatly.

When summer was at its hottest and no breeze was found, the Prince of the Green called to his friend the Wind and asked for advice.

"Oh, Iven," called the Prince of the Green, for that was the true name of the Wind, "I ask you to blow a breeze that laps at the cold lands of the north. I ask for you to come and sit with me and talk with me."

The Wind, like the other gods, harbored affection for the Prince of the Green, but all knew that his affection was far deeper. Man called it love, but the Wind knew only that being in the company of the keeper of summer gave him great joy and happiness. The Wind did come, a cloth of airy fabric draped over his head that hid his deep eyes, and the Wind did blow his winds from the cold lands of the north, and the Wind did seat himself beside the Prince of the Green.

"You called for me, Elunir," for that was the true name of the Prince of the Green, "and I have come. What is't you desire to speak?"

"You will think me silly, but I wish to call on the affection of Shiramir," for that was the true name of the Prince of the White. "He hates me, I know, yet I desire nothing more than to tell him how much I respect him. He is far more ancient than us."

"He is," Iven agreed, "but 'tis hard to reverse hate."

"Does he think me a threat to his duties?" asked Elunir.

"I known't," answered the Wind. "I'm not he."

"Oh, Iven," cried the Prince of the Green, "should I speak with him? Would it make him hate me more to know that all I seek is his blessings before each season's change?"

"His face looks gentle, but he has gone through much," replied Iven. "I known't him well enough to know of his temperament. He does seek attentions and he does seek adulations, but I known’t enough to say how he is truly."

"You and Selni," for that was the true name of the Water, "are the only ones who know him well. You both speak with him more than I do. He keeps himself on the land all day, hidden in his castle of ice and snow. Oh, Iven, is it possible to visit him?"

Iven sighed a breath of chilly air, "Selni has been with him more than I. Speak with him. He may or mayn't know the ease of finding Shiramir's affection." The Wind stood and left in a swift gust.

Elunir walked to a river and again called out, this time for the Water. It was little time when the Water came, a handsome face showing itself within clear waters. The Water smiled and spoke, "You called for me and I did come. What is it you wish of me?"

"Do you know the temperament of Shiramir?" asked the Prince of the Green. "I wish to speak with him, but wish not to anger him further."

The Water lifted himself from the river and formed the shape of a man so he could look directly into the eyes of the Prince of the Green. "He is not angry with you, nor does he hate you," said Selni, "but he fears that he has become weaker while others have grown stronger. We are younger than he is and he knows that in this age we are more powerful. He dislikes how he is portrayed, as cold and full of hate. He is both intimidated and awed by you, though he would never say as much. The pride in his essence makes him incapable of seeking you out and saying his true feelings. I would think, above all things, that he is lonely in his frozen empire. To know your true feelings for him would possibly give him joy."

The Prince of the Green said nothing.

"You should go to him." The Water gave the Prince of the Green a parting nod and vanished back into the river.

It was not until the leaves began to change their colors that the Prince of the Green felt courageous enough to speak with the Prince of the White. A great chill was falling over everything in Elunir’s domain and he knew that he would have to return to the clouds when winter came. The Prince of the White soon arrived to claim the land as his own, and greeted the Prince of the Green with lowered eyes.

"Elunir," said the Prince of the White, "it is winter soon."

"Yes, it is," replied Elunir. Normally, they would part after these words, but the Prince of the Green was determined to make their meeting last longer. "I hope you have a good season. I think I will come back a little later for summer's start."

The Prince of the White looked up at the Prince of the Green fiercely. "You should have those you protect freeze instead of thrive?"

"It is time for a harsh winter. There has been overpopulation. Too many creatures are just as bad as too few. Ahen," for that was the true name of the Sky, "had been distracted this season and could not convince Deanir," for that was the true name of the Prince of the Storms, "to send lightning and set the forest ablaze. It is necessary and I know you should like to have more time among the creatures of the land."

"I don't want your charity," growled Shiramir.

"It is not charity," said the Prince of the Green quickly. "I respect your abilities. I respect you as the ruler of the cold and snow. I trust you to help me."

Shiramir said nothing for a time, puffing his cheeks out and in. His face was round and plump, and he looked like one to endure winters well. Skin white like snow and cold to the touch, he wore armor of ice and adorned his head with a crown of holly. Elunir adored Shiramir's soft face and features, but could never touch him. All who touched the Prince of the White would take in his cold.

"Do you really trust in my abilities?" asked Shiramir at last. "Do you really respect my place?"

"I always have," said Elunir, his eyes filled of sincerity.

"You will not take the opportunity to mock me?" asked the Prince of the White nervously.

"Why would I mock someone so powerful?" replied the Prince of the Green. "A single touch and I would no longer be."

Shiramir laughed at those words, "A single touch and I would no longer be, either. I would freeze your foliage and you would melt my snow. What are you trying at?"

Elunir locked his gaze with the other, "I ask only for friendship. I have been infatuated with you for a long time, and I wish for you to know that I care about you and hold you in the highest regard."

The Prince of the White frowned at this. Infatuation between gods never ended well. Though he was charmed by the beautiful face of the Prince of the Green, Shiramir had resigned himself to knowing he could never be worthy of the verdant prince before him. "Of all the gods who want for your affection, you would give it to me?"

"You are the most deserving of my affection," said Elunir with a nod.

"I was once the ruler of everything," Shiramir sighed. "My domain was vast and cold. You all grew stronger to overthrow me. Now I only have half of the year to rule my domain and share the other half with you. You should revel in having overthrown the Frozen Tyrant."

"But you are not a tyrant," the Prince of the Green insisted. "You have always been good and kind. You are lonely and you are sad. That is what Selni has said. I don't want you to be lonely or sad. You are always in your frozen kingdom in the north and I always depart for the clouds. From the clouds, I have never been able to see you, despite longing to. Men call it love, and that is surely what I must feel for you. It is love I feel for you. I want you to not be lonely or sad. I want you to be surrounded by love and happiness, even if it is only from me."

The old god stood in silence, the chill from his body frosting over the plants at his feet. He had heard men utter about love and would watch them lavish those they loved with affection and trinkets and words. He also knew that love between gods was a dangerous act to be involved in. He shifted his weight and said softly, "So it is love that you feel for me."

"Yes, it is love," replied Elunir.

"I know little of love, but I have observed it," hummed the Prince of the White.

"I know little of love, too," said the Prince of the Green with a smile. "We can explore it together. Even if we cannot touch, we can explore it."

Elunir was so earnest about this idea of love though Shiramir knew it never ended well when gods began to love other gods. However, what little he knew of love, he knew that his knowledge could grow from more observation. His time on the land among men was filled with the observations of how they lived their lives. Slowly, the old god moved closer to the Prince of the Green and touched his cold lips to the bringer of summer's warm ones. Shiramir had watched man do this, touch lips to lips. It was a strange sensation, but it wasn’t unpleasant. When he could feel his skin melting a little, he pulled back.

"Men press lips with those they love," explained the old god. "They call it a kiss."

The younger god, whose eyes had grown wide when their lips touched, slowly felt his shock fade. He had seen couples wander into his forest and press lips together, but he never knew what it meant. Knowing the meaning of the gesture made him feel a bit ignorant. There was much to learn of love, it seemed, and the Prince of the White had had far more time to observe man’s dealings with love than he.

"A kiss," said Elunir quietly. He liked the sound of the word.

"We can kiss again when spring comes," said Shiramir, smiling gently for the younger god.

The Prince of the Green nodded at this, a smile at his lips to match Shiramir's. He very much wanted to kiss again. He wanted another kiss at that moment, but it was growing late and he could not keep the winter from coming for much longer. Elunir grinned and said, "We will kiss again when seasons must change. We will kiss for longer. And when I say that I love you, you will say it back."

Shiramir laughed, his melted lips having reformed from their kiss. "If we kiss for too long, I may melt for good, but I can say that I love you. I can say it right now. I love you, Elunir, and have always loved you."

"I love you, too, Shiramir, and shall always love you." The smile at the Prince of the Green's lips widened, "I thought for so long that you hated me, but you didn't and I am glad."

The Prince of the White shook his head, "You are the most beautiful and beloved among the gods. I cannot hate someone that everyone adores. You are impossible to hate. I love you from my empire in the north, and I love you when I am here in your forest."

A moment passed and the Prince of the Green took the lips of the Prince of the White within his own, letting the cold god's skin chill his body thoroughly. Elunir would ascend to the clouds and wished to remember this sensation while he passed his time above the land. When he thought that neither his nor the other god's body could take the touch anymore, Elunir pulled away and smiled with enough warmth to rival the Sun's. "Good-bye until next spring," said the young god. "I love you." With that single sentence, he vanished within a swirl of fallen leaves.

The Prince of the White stayed still for a time, his eyes dripping with what appeared to be tears. Whether they were tears or his body melting, he was uncertain himself, but Shiramir did love the Prince of the Green. He knew at least that much as he went about coloring the few remaining leaves of summer brown, red, yellow, and orange to send them into the Wind's grasp. He sensed the Wind's sadness, but knew not why it felt like the Wind was weeping. Instead, the Prince of the White continued his job, excited to see the Prince of the Green again come spring.

It was with their longer and longer meetings between the two seasons that two new seasons came about. The two gods would linger until neither could last much longer, and would part in an instant. Man had to name these long spans of time between summer and winter, and they called the slow warming into summer as spring and they called the slow chilling into winter as autumn. Each new season brought new colors and beauty to symbolize the love between the two gods of summer and winter. This is how the four seasons were created.