The Dawn of Legend

The Elder sat gingerly in the rocking chair next to the roaring fireplace. The flames crackled and danced merrily behind her as the stiffness of the day leeched away and warmth spread throughout her weary bones. The atmosphere of the Mousehole Pub was always welcoming and it was wonderful to be able to rest there after a hard day. The rain pounded roughly on the window behind her, worrying the kindly old lady over the children still stuck out there doing their chores. It was dark and muddy, no time for kids to be out. She sighed heavily whilst rocking back and forth in her chair as the landlady brought her the usual spiced cider with a smile.
“Rough day Sophie?” she asked with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Only the usual Miranda” the wisewoman replied rubbing the bridge of her nose to dispel the onset of a tension headache “people have too many worries, if only they could see how trivial much of it was…” she sighed again losing herself to her thoughts.
“Ahh…I see none of the urchins are in yet” Miranda said, effectively changing the subject “you mind they don’t make a mess of my pub Sophie, I won’t have it from the adults, children certainly ain’t getting away with it”
Sophie smiled wanly and nodded her understanding allowing Miranda to get back to work. She was a severe looking lady with iron grey curls and a straight posture but the children loved her. From all backgrounds and ways of life did they come for her. Her blind eyes were soft and caring and her hugs would soon sooth the most distraught infant. She sipped her cider, feeling it seep into her system, relaxing every muscle; heaven on earth.
Suddenly the door of the inn crashed open and about twenty kids scrambled in over the chunky wooden chairs and under the men’s card tables to get the best seats in the house, right at ‘grandma’ Sophie’s feet.
“Gramma Sophie!” they chorused bounding to the front of the hearth; dirty footprints trailed from the door to the rocker and Miranda gave the children one of her worst death glares. Sophie had to fight not to smile ‘if looks could kill…’ she pondered then turned a steely gaze to the children.
“You see that mess?” she growled at them “not a single story till it gets cleaned up”. Several grubby faces turned slowly to look upon the mess of the stone floor, then one of the older kids got up and stalked to the landlady holding out his hands for a cloth to clean.
“Tell one I know Gramma” he called over “so then I can catch up” he then proceeded to plonk himself on the floor and started scrubbing.
Sophie clucked her tongue good-naturedly and cast about for a well-known tale. Many avid eyes stared with wonder at the storyteller. They sat quiet as mice. All fidgeting ceased and she commanded total attention from her audience. Settling on her personal favourite she began to recount the wondrous story of the Dawn of Legend; a story like no other for though many stories centred on the humans and their great feats, “this one goes right back to the beginning; to the very Gods themselves and how our beloved Gaea became the way she is today. Through pain and suffering our mother goddess brought us what we have and one day she will return, but for now” Sophie straightened and lowered her voice conspiratorially
“the beginning…”