Let me tell you the story of the giants and the fate that befell their King. Those who know where to look can still see him when walking the sandy beaches of Vancouver Island.
Long before our ancestors walked the land, giants that inhabited the heavens. Giants forged great mountains from the primordial stuff of the cosmos. They filled the seas between their mountain lairs with the tears of their fallen foes and stood astride the world as gods. They called this place “the Earth.” And they were jealous of their creation.
The King of the Giants, as is true of most kings, was the most jealous of all. He forbade all other creatures of heavens from sharing in his new world. This place, he decreed from atop his throne carved from the side of the Earth’s tallest mountain, was only for his people. All other creatures waited, shivering in the void, watching the giants who guarded their precious Earth.
And so it was for a time unknown and unknowable.
But from out of the darkness came many envoys. The Orca sent the wisest and most persuasive of their many Queens. Of Earth’s vast oceans, she said, her kind would fill its salty waters with songs and life, and hunt game far too small for the Giants to notice. But the King retorted that the oceans were merely for the entertainment and pleasure of the Giants. He and his brothers alone would swim and bathe in Earths endless blue seas . No Orca shall ever be permitted in our baths, the King proclaimed with scorn in his heart.
Next came the Raven, who counseled that since Giants had no wings and could not fly, they should allow bird-kind to ride the winds and fill the vast blue skies. And should a Raven alight upon the shoulder of a Giant, it will sing that Giant a song of praise. But the King merely laughed. What Giant worth his mettle would trust the praise of the wiliest creature in the cosmos?
At last came the Prince of the Wolves. But the Prince merely glared at the King and stood, waiting. While the King was a patient being, the Wolf was steadfast, and with cold intent. At last the King could stand no more and demanded of the Wolf to know its thoughts. The Wolf merely stood its ground, ever so slightly revealing its teeth under a dimly lit ancient night sky
I shall not be outdone by the likes of a Wolf, the King raged, striking out in anger at the thing nearest to hand. His Throne. And so fierce was the King’s wrath that his blow unmoored his Mountain Throne, hurling it into the void around the Earth. And so blinded was the King by his rage that he failed to notice an ocean of water rushing into the abyss created by his now missing Throne. Oceans now set in a perpetual motion, tied by fate to that of the King’s Throne. Even if he had noticed, he never realized the import.
And so the titan stood, unmoving and unmovable, held fast by his disbelief of having been bested. As the seasons fled from memory, the King sank imperceptibly, yet ever deeper into the shore of his nowchurning ocean. The Wolf perched on higher ground merely waiting. Finally, during a long night lit by the fullness of the King’s Throne hanging in the skies above, the Wolf watched the seas claim its grim prize. And the Wolf spoke for the first time in an Age: a howl filled with victory and regret and joy and sorrow.
The Giants—bound to their King for eternity—entombed themselves deep within the Earth, waiting. We feel their uneasy slumber when the Earth shakes beneath our feet.
And so you will find the King of the Giants today as the tide recedes, entombed today under the millenia of lives lived. If you look for him carefully you will see the ocean—now full with life—draining from his lips and lungs as his breath returns, only for a moment. The Orca and their brother whales can be seen from time-to-time, dancing in the sunset in front of the King to herd their fish and krill for an evening’s feast. The Raven, true to his word of of course, causes the birds of the Earth to visit the King when the seas permit. But instead of songs of praise come unending refrains of mocking joy. So even in that brief moment of life, the King of the Giants finds no refuge.
But the Wolf, having brought life in all its varied splendor to the world, will only visit on rare occasions. When night has fallen and the Throne is bright, you might see the Wolf standing on the beach, glaring still at his timeless opponent.
And that is the story of the Giants who created The Earth and the Moon, and the fate of their one and only King.
