The Carillon Picture

Carmia had always been known as the most beautiful goddess to ever dwell in the Heavens. She ruled over the song of the world, and had been graced with a voice so beautiful it shamed the sirens of the seas and the songs of the angels. No mortal ears were supposed to have ever heard it. But, for all her beauty, and kind gentle nature, she was a curious and reckless Goddess. Often she would wander into the mortal realms, and it was there that she met him.

Many years ago she had fallen in love with a human. A prince of a grand empire, a man whose eyes spoke of courage, but whos hands spoke of love. He stood as a symbol of strength and resolve to his people, and had withstood the tests of war and battle many a time. His soul was a pillar of hope, a spirit of kindness and sacrifice, and wrapped itself around a heart of the purest intention.

Alas, it was and had always been forbidden for the gods to mingle with the mortals over whom they ruled, and to fall in love was, at best, a crime. A dishonor to her race, to her very heavenly name. - Viewed by her fellow gods as a sin against nature.

And so, to escape their judgment, she and her love made many travels to the only place they could ever truly be alone.

The edge of the world.

It was a place so secluded and lonely, so private, that the mortals spoke of its existence only in legend, and the gods spared it no attention. It was a place set far away from all wandering eyes…

All but one.

One vigilant, watchful eye had followed her in secrecy, and with the silence and resolve of a serpent, intruded upon her secluded refuge.
Her father, ruler of the gods.

The mighty creator had used his all-seeing eye to invade her mythical sanctuary, and had found the two misplaced lovers. His temper had been great and his wrath mighty and ceaseless with fury; with one sweep of his tempestuous hand he brought the mighty stone palace that his daughter and her mortal lover had erected to the ground, and forced the rubble and the ruin down atop the prince’s body. The Prince let out a horrible yell, but his voice was silenced and torn by the mighty walls of the palace he had built as a home of their love. His bones shattared, his ribs collapsed beneath the stones and his breath was stripped from his lungs…

Forever sealing him below the wreckage.

The Goddess’ heart was torn, and her soul in shambles. She fell to the ruins, the dust sifting across her tortured brow. She dug her nails frantically and vainly into the stone, and she wept heated tears onto them. The mighty ruler looked upon his daughter, and noticed that the chaos and vengeance he had wrought upon her had been so great that it had broken her, and she had been stripped of her magic. Now, love is a strange thing. Two souls become entwined together so tightly, they become one. When her beloved died, no longer was she whole. - Without this completeness, no longer did she hold the powers of the immortal. The heavenly glow that had once emanated from her rosy skin, and the stars of the night sky that had once danced brightly in her eyes had diminished. She would never again set foot in the heavens and would forever reside here, in her hollow sanctuary.

At that moment, the merciless ruler of the cosmos felt nothing but sorrow and pity.
In his grief, he called upon the great god of forging, Meh-thal, to construct a musical instrument to such scale and power that had never before been seen by even the gods. And Meh-thal worked day and night amidst the mountains and poured himself into his creation, and a full 3 months later, he stood atop the great peaks and looked with awe at what he had created.
A colossal organ rose from the mountains, set at the very edge of the world. It was itself the size of a mountain, and its long, black pipes pushed to the sky like the very fingers of the earth. It was mighty, powerful, and menacing. It was a fitting creation for the event that had brought about its construction.
The goddess's father stood her before it and outstretched his mighty hand.
“Behold,” spoke the ruler of the gods. “I give you the mightiest instrument that has ever been forged.
It is the Carillon, its keys of bright silver, and its pipes of black steel.”

The great goddess of song and music still dwells among the edge of the world. She will forever wander the majestic hills and valleys, praying over the ruins where her lover’s body is still buried. It is a place no mortal will ever again see, and the gods forever turn from. She plays the mighty Carillon, her fingers tracing across the silver keys with both a bitter hate, and a longing love. No longer does she sing, for the Carillon has become her voice, and its deep notes her song. And on the loneliest of nights, when the world is full of grief, the song of the Carillon can be heard throughout the world, and its song holds no joy.


The story is written by my beloved.
I hope you guys like it! Critique is discouraged because I feel this piece is complete, no more work will ever be done it.
Comments and favorites are VERY appreciated!

- Sketched on regular ol' printer paper, colored in Adobe Photoshop CS2


Izaga Region Map, v.3.3 Final.
The Carillon
Samael Manson