“We want you to make us a planet.”
Kuminn rolled his massive shoulders as he took a long breath. “I haven’t build planets in centuries.”
It wasn’t exactly true. He just hadn’t built anything habitable. Polished orbs of stone or gaseous masses with clouds veined like marble had been his secret hobby out of love to feel the stone form under his finger or the delicate weave of gas. He glanced at Norgeth and Galadriel where they stood holding hands. He guessed they wanted something more than a pretty rock.
“Your abilities are legend among the gods.” Galadriel’s dark intensity gave the words enough strength that Kummin shifted in embarrassment.
Kuminn gestured to the myriad stars that flecked the universe. “There are many planets. Why not settle on one already created? That is so much less work.”
Norgeth shook his head. “They are made for only one of the races, or just the light or the dark.” Voice rough he paused. Galadriel touched his arm. The glance they shared warmed Kuminn’s chest. “We want something not just for us, but all the eight races, light blood and dark.” The spark in Norgeth’s eyes held an earnestness that was difficult to ignore.
Kuminn scratched his chin. “A home for all eight races…” His mind whirled with what each would require. His fingers itched at the challenge.
“This is why it must be you,” Galadriel added. “You are the best of the world builders.”
He wanted to say no. He’d forged enough stars and collected scattered dust into planets. But the two lovers were right. There was no home for a dark Djinn and a light Tuatha like them to live together, much less a haven for the other six races.
Kuminn nodded.
He left Norgeth and Galadriel to dreams and celebration and went to the center of the galaxy where he could watch the twirling dance of all the planets, stars, and solar systems the giants like him had created. Ever since they had sprung to life from the blackness, the giants had been the builders. With strong muscles and massive bodies, they had crafted glimmering spirals of light at first merely in joy to live and then as homes for the other Dawnborn.
To create a masterpiece, Kuminn did not want to place it near so many early experiments or established planets. Their misshapen light or busy systems would not highlight the feat he’d been asked to create. A section of the great spiral that held more darkness than light caught his eye. He strode across the vast spaces of dark gas and dust. Sweeping away a glowing nebula, he found a star bright in its youth.
He spun dust around the glowing star. Gathering the rocks that swept close to his enormous reach, he smashed asteroids together until the force of their impact melted the pieces. Careful now with his hot ember of stone, he added more dust and hazy drops of water. The small orb glowed molten red, and its heat seared the thick skin of his fingers, but he liked the size. It felt right. Carefully, he blew on the surface until it cooled enough to hold.
The Dawnborn races were split evenly between light and dark. So to create a home for all eight, Kummin tilted the small planet as he spun it and released it along a path around its sun. The northern pole remained tipped away while the southern pole always faced the light of day. Always dark and always light, like the races. But as the little planet spun, the northern lands grew cold and the south too hot.
In his youth, Kummin would have destroyed his creation or left it to start again. But he’d gained patience over the eons. Instead, he added more water as he swept in gasses to coat the planet. Clouds brewed and formed across the hot south. Carefully, he added a shield of silver dust high in the atmosphere that spun above the southern clouds and reflected the intense sunlight. The southern regions cooled a few degrees. But the north remained cool.
So Kummin nudged the hot core of the planet toward the surface of the north. Volcanoes erupted, and high mountains rose. But that only warmed the land a bit and not the air enough, not if he meant it to be breathable to something other than a god. So, carefully, he carved channels deep in the ground that linked the south to a fissure in the north. Cold air flowed southward through the tunnels while the clouds and warmth of the southlands dispersed northward drawn to the downdraft of the rift. Kummin smiled with pleasure. Now he only needed to make regions for the races to call home.
Elves like Norgeth were light blooded even if dark skinned. Tall and elegant, the elves loved music and food, so Kuminn made the bright rolling lands of the south suitable for farming with fresh water, fertile soil, and fruit-bearing trees and vines.
Djinn like Galadriel were the black-blooded and light of skin but dark of hair and eye. Full of passion and wild magic, the djinn liked remote lands. So Kuminn carved valleys and scraped away soil to reveal bedrock in the dark north, crafting places where wild magic would reign.
Light blooded satyrs of all kinds liked deep woods. So north of the home of the elves, Kuminn grew great forests full of streams and isolated lakes amid sheltered valleys and low mountains.
From the very first, the selkie had shied away from the other seven races. Wanting to be left alone, they made their air unbreathable to the other races. That is how they created water and all things that lived within it. So Kuminn sculpted coastlines and deep ocean trenches as well as coral reefs and lagoons for the most reclusive race of the Dawnborn.
Giants like Kuminn were more massive than the other races. Even the smallest of his kind stood as high as the largest dragon. And they liked to build. So he created a large island of massive boulders and deep clay. Drawing his fingers across the land, he traced wide, pebble riddled rivers across its rolling hills.
The pixies were opposite the giants. So tiny, it was the brightness of their glow like flecks of stars that marked their minuscule existence, at least to Kuminn. But the tiny winged fairies and sprites made him smile, so Kuminn took time crafting a small southern isle full of elfin forests and mossy lands of flowers and trickling streams for the tiny folk he could barely see.
Finally, Kuminn came to the winged and scaled dragons in their diverse forms from wyrm to fire breathing monsters. They liked high places and didn’t care so much about vegetation since they caught prey to eat. For them, he shaped the high mountains of the north, creating ledges and caves as well as valleys for their food to live.
Under the mountains of the dragons, Kuminn redirected magma and cooled the pathways of lava tubes into labyrinths that led deep into the minerals of the world for the dark blooded and stout dwarves who liked to mine and craft arcane weapons and jewelry.
Kuminn gazed at his world and released a satisfied sigh. It was a beautiful planet whose air glinted with silver crystals in the sun and whose night side shone with stars. He gave it two moons, one white that lit the northern darkness and one black to contrast with the bright sky of the south. They would remind the races of the balance between the light and dark and that both existed in this world made for all races.
Finished, Kuminn summoned Norgeth and Galadriel to see their new home. They watched it dance around its star, and walked with him through its forests and shores. Together, the three of them paused to watch the sunrise from a quiet bay in the borderlands between light and dark.
“This spot, we should make it a gathering place for all the races,” Galadriel suggested.
Kuminn smiled at the thought. “You like the world?”
“It is perfect.” Norgeth’s voice was hoarse, and tears shimmered in his eyes.
“What will you call it?” Kuminn asked, happy to give to the couple something they loved already.
Galadriel smiled, but it was Norgeth who answered, “Sundarkk.”
