Creation of the Birds

This is a short story based on a piece of art that I love, by Remedios Varo. I will continue the series if there is enough interest in me doing so.



She was the only one fit to take up the task of painting a song to life: Arlnamis, Queen of Byrrds. A steady hum permeated the space, emanating from the pigment apparatus. The pressure from the oscillated particles of air made her barn-owl plumage ruffle gently in the sub-motion. A paragon of serenity, Arlnamis, with eyes closed, combined the ingredients of life: yellow matter, red quantum particles, and blue stardust, upon her palette. Her stylus, inseparable from her song, deep within the centre of her chest.

Against entropy, she put pen to paper and drew forth life, through the magnified power of the burning stars. Three points of starlight upon the page imbued her creations with reality through the corkscrewing radiance of their Aether.

The painted wings twitched. Hello, little one. Welcome—welcome to Life. Her face spread into a warm smile, with pressed lips, as though kissing the thought, itself. The little wet eyes blinked up at her, slowly, as a tiny —chirrup! came, unbidden, from its throat. Arlnamis opened her own fierce yellow owl’s eyes, and looked upon her bird, now hopping joyfully about the tabletop. She grinned toothlessly before taking up Creation, once again. As her first bird began flight, her second drew its first breath.

After the fourth, all five birds, giddy with the miracle of Life, rejoiced and filled the space with their hearts’ Song. —A success. Her Creation, complete, Arlnamis turned to group the four little birds upon the sill of the opened window. She gave each of them, in turn, a stare laden with purpose.

Then, in one swift motion, she ushered them forth, out into the endlessly deep night sky—so that her freed and living Song might grace all of reality through the infinite flight of their beating hearts.

a reply to: rukia

I hadn't heard of this surrealist artist but I'm glad you shared this here, otherwise I may have never learned of her works. Intriguing pieces she created... thank you for posting for the ATS community

a reply to: rukia

An interesting story to put with the artwork.

I love birds and bird watching and all.

There is interest here in your continuing.

—But, all of that was Before.

Now, there was no way a mere Song could hope to penetrate the new darkness festering in the hearts of the denizens, below. Their lives, once full of purpose, now spiraled around the mundane. In order to block out the insanity of it all, they blinded themselves against all else that might distract them from uselessness. For, surely, if they awoke, they would die with horror from the seeming hopelessness of it all.

Lost in that sea of utter disillusionment, they had hardened their hearts to the Truth.

Arlnamis let out a sigh of frustration that rippled through her chest feathers. Lifting a pinion, she wiped the moisture from her brow and continued to inscribe the Truth, so that, perhaps, one day, someone might come along and read it. That was all there was to it, she supposed. What more could she do, after all—especially when none would listen? She was not fit to take up the task of fixing the moral compass of each and every denizen. The idea itself was laughable, even.

Yes. There was nothing more that she, herself, could accomplish. Her stylus, leaking on its side, laid untouched next to her as she resolved herself to wait for the Other who must have been sent to her aid.

a reply to: rukia

Wonderful! Loved the surreal artwork and your story to go along with it! The only thing is that the flashing of your avatar distracted me. Please continue writing!

a reply to: Night Star

You make a good point--I can see where it would be distracting. So, I changed it. Thanks for the heads-up. And I shall continue, indubitably.

She did not have to wait long at all for that inevitable Gathering, for the twin-faced Man prioritized haste above all.

It began when Arlnamis heard the boughs creaking overhead, as if the very trees were being ripped apart at the seams. Looking outside, she noticed a narrow path being parted, straight through the Wood. Quick as an arrow, it shot toward her, until, finally, the trees in the foreground of her vision gave way to the apparition of a figure that might have been a man or a woman, depending on which of its faces one chose to primarily look at.

She hastened to the door, unhitched the lock, and peered hesitantly at her guest.

"I am he of the Wind," the upper-most face declared, "Queen of Byrrds, I have come to offer you my assistance," and with that, he prostrated himself before her.

If it is True that you are the Other that They sent, then surely there is no need for you to bow, good sir.

He acquiesced, composing himself on his feet, once more. The face in his hands, the woman, opened her eyes in that instant, and smiled warmly up at Arlnamis, "You are a most-gracious host, my Lady."

She spoke with a voice that was so sweet and clear that Arlnamis could not help but to soften. The Queen of Byrrds gestured at the door, which parted itself fully, and then gestured at her guests to enter, if they so pleased.

They did.

The two (or three) of them, now alone in the space, sat quietly as if unsure of what to say, next. Finally, He spoke: "Is it True that the denizens disillusion themselves? That they refuse to accept Reality? If that is true, then I must call for my fellows, in order to do what must be done, next."

Which is?

"Well, it is quite plain, you see: We must slaughter them if they refuse to play their roles. Insubordination cannot be deemed in any way acceptable. We have Tradition to uphold, here."

Arlnamis' plumage stood up on end, incensed. How dare you, her mind spat back at them. Go. Now. Before I change my mind and slaughter you.

Far away, in the Land Below, there was one denizen who had not succumbed to the encroaching darkness. He did not appear to be much: just a skinny boy, always followed by a gorgon of a butterfly. His name was Octavian, and his friend's, Sora.

Sora was irritating, to put it mildly.

Octavian trudged through the littered thoroughfare and tried to restrain himself from beating Sora into a lifeless pulp.

Why in the world are you walking around out here?! Do you want to be caught by the Misters?!!

"I'm sure you'd love that, Sora. Then you could tell me all about how you told me so, and how I should have listened to you."

If you know that, Oct, then why are you intent on being a fool?

"Because I am Needed."

Sora scoffed, By whom?

"I...I don't exactly know," Octavian admitted, averting his eyes, "but I will know them once I see them. I just know that this is the direction that I must travel in."

Oct had been walking since late in the night, prior. He had not slept before that, either, so giant bags of tiredness cupped his red-rimmed eyes. He yawned, wearily.

Fine. Whatever you want, Oct. You had better not complain if you get Taken by the Misters, though. I warned you, you know!

"Yeah, yeah," Oct said dismissively, "I know."

a reply to: rukia


What an intriguing story and pics! Wonderful!!!! Oh and...thanks for removing the flash from your avatar! It was so much easier to read your story!

a reply to: Night Star

Since I'm rather new to this forum in particular, am I supposed to continue posting updates to the story, here, or is it more usual to make another thread for such things? Just curious. I plan on continuing this story, tomorrow (or later, tonight), by the way. The whole story will probably have about 10 short parts.

i'm hooked on your story, i definitely will follow, can't wait

i hope you will add the installments here, it's easier to follow and find them since i have subscribed to it. but i would make sure to find your posts if you would wish to post them individually.

p.s.: i love the names you chosen for your characters. queen of byrrds is just so gorgeous! i like to read stories out to my flatmate, so i can tell you, arlnamis is a tongue breaker to pronounce, ha.

originally posted by: rukia
a reply to: Night Star

Since I'm rather new to this forum in particular, am I supposed to continue posting updates to the story, here, or is it more usual to make another thread for such things? Just curious. I plan on continuing this story, tomorrow (or later, tonight), by the way. The whole story will probably have about 10 short parts.

You can indeed continue your story in here as far as I know. I don't know if there is a page limit. It would be best to ask a moderator though. I'm looking forward to more of your story!

a reply to: rukia

i enjoyed this! Please always post the image with the story..

EDit: CAn you credit the image? Would be awesome!

a reply to: tikbalang

Yay! I'm glad!!

You musta missed it--I credited the art. They're all by the surrealist artist, Remedios Varo. I said it in the OP, in reference to the first piece, and thought it was pretty clear they were all by the same artist, but since I didn't clarify that before, I hope this clears things up.

I don't really want to include the names of the pieces, aside from the first (which is the title of this thread/story, as well) because they have no bearing on the story that I made from them and might, in fact, detract from the story with needless information.

The twin-faced Man was not to be made a fool of so easily, however.

Immediately, he raced back to his fellows, who awaited his news of the result of his meeting with the Queen of Byrrds. In a quickening, he was there.

The multitude was both within the arsenal and within the walls, busy making preparations for War. When they looked up, in unison, to greet their master, to their surprise, Arlnamis was not accompanying him, and, instead, a look of intense rage played out melodramatically upon both faces.

"READY THE ASTRAL CANNONS!" he screeched wildly, running to his desk and sifting through the piles of papers madly. "She thinks she can disgrace me!" The twin-faced Man chuckled darkly to himself, "Well, won't she be surprised when we make the first move? Ha! It will be too late for her, then!"

"She should have paid heed to your words, Master. But now she will pay the price for her ignorance."

The entity who had spoken was his legion's general, a heavy-lidded thing of many names. It was floating, languidly, above them all, on its Astralfloat system. Energy crackled wildly from its crown chakra, lighting up the air around it. The twin-faced Man grinned on both faces, looking up to meet the gaze of his most-trustworthy henchman.

"They all shall, indeed, pay with their existences for this most-grievous affront to my pride."

a reply to: lucia2389

Yes! When I first saw that painting, that's the name that came into my head (ARL-NA-mis is how you pronounce it, by the way ^_^). It felt interesting, rolling of the tongue, because it kinda slurs together, in a way that I found attractive and unique.

That makes me excited you're reading them aloud to your roommate! I will certainly continue and I hope that you continue enjoying it!

Still here rukia and enjoying your story!

Emboldened by their general's display of confidence, the legions of the Twin-Faced Man fell upon the denizens under the cover of darkness. The moon was new and the night was still. The denizens were silent and presumably asleep, under the sweeping watch of the Misters as they flew through the twisted paths of the city.

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The Misters Silph, Laal, and Xaimon were on duty in the south side, while their fellows, Misters Zykrol, and Hael scanned the northern borders of the city. Rarely did either party venture into the other cardinal directions.

This was not out of fear or out of forgetfulness--for the Misters were precisely pragmatic with their detailed thoroughness that they applied in all they undertook. It was simply for the fact that the lowly plebians were beneath their notice under normal circumstances. It was this incredible resolve of theirs that made them appear to be so fearsome compared to ordinary denizens. Well, that and probably the fact that they could fly of their own volition.

The Misters did not age. Nor did they speak. As far everyone was concerned, it was either that they couldn't speak--or that anyone who had ever heard a single utterance did not survive long enough to share that information. If they strayed from the eastern or western territories of the city, and ventured into the upper and lower sectors, that was where they could--and likely would encounter a Mister or five.

Not a breath of anyone ever Taken by the Misters was able to be discerned by their fellow denizens. And that was not as a result of their fellows not trying, of course. No, search as they might, it was all fruitless. Not that anyone had ever actually seen anyone else get Taken, but--surely something dreadful must happen, for why else would impoverished denizens disappear only near the frightful spectres?

It was decidedly queer.

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Before their arrival at the city, the army of the Enemy visited the Heirophantic Brotherhood in order to divine favorable portents for the battle ahead. Armed to the teeth with these blessings and all a manner of High Weaponry, they were fully aware of the slaughter that awaited them.

In fact, they feverishly looked forward to it, all eyes sparking lustily in spite of the light-less night.

a reply to: rukia

Hello, great continuation, the picture makes me wonder who painted it?

a reply to: tikbalang

Remedios Varo! In the OP I say, and a couple other times. She painted all of these. I am only using her work for this story She's amazing. My favorite artist next to Bosch, I think.