The Divine Family: The Gods and Seasons.

The tempest roils as thunder flashes sear heaven's vault, icy Kyne blows frigid vapour across innocent pelt, and the burning eye hides behind smoky cotton whilst the children of the earth repose in glacial tombs.

All is cold and no life, except the hard stuff, finds purchase solid, as the ground slumbers in wait for new life's bloom. Tentative, the children rear heads semi-verdant and begin to play anew as soil parts itself to let the children venture forth. Long time the children slept beneath the tranquil plane, entombed in Nir's geotic grace made manifest in comfort.

But, as all things desire, the long sleep gives way to bloom, and lethargy becomes energy instead as if through magick's whim, so that the aetherial flower of Magnus' brood puts forth its leaves across the sky, making for others the peace it is accustomed itself to enjoy. Thus, the smouldering Sentinel makes himself known once more. For the children admire him and Nir seeks to claim his flame, that she may bear young burnished in vital verdure, as without him Nirn lies silent, save for hardy creatures uncaring to Kyne's wintry assaults.

Nir, having all transpire as planned, sees the children rise, and she, happy mother of all, thanks the Sentinel for his gift and watches as a blanket of green springs forth as bristle. Knowing that children at play bring joy, superseding lifeless slumber, she sleeps now, not yet ready to fight somnial temptations, and dreams of when Bull-made-Glorious's breath shall enkindle all things which for the moment lie dormant, poised for winter's end.

Winter passes, Kyne's vapour flees Morihaus' lust-driven winds, making way for life to return and for trees to adorn themselves in leafy raiment, exhibiting splendour long sought for and won in patient fashion to become sentinels (for sky-flowers do not claim sole dominion) of the mother whom dearly they love from root to canopy. Neither power, nor strength do they flaunt, but pride, hard-won in lieu of uncertain glacial times, when hope of new life seemed ever-distant.

Alas, "Despair not!", they cry, banishing memory of winter's hold as spring bounds on uncertain legs, much like a newborn lamb towards its mother, Nir-as-life, and tests its courage amidst the biting flow of Kyne's discharge.

Finding it favourable, children and burgeoning brothers and sisters, play in ever-increasing frequency, enticing with raucous music, Sun-father, Sentinel of all that sears and shines, who is led home from cold atramentous lodgings to youth's perennial fireside, that he may bring his gleaming gifts to all below, and abate deathless coma borne from guile's icy gust, for Kyne admires fire's touch, and hates the ousting it causes, her domain brought low, sunken, unformed, and free to roam again as fork, branch or mouth permits.

Sun-father, on his throne of gold, beams downward upon the children, bearing a young Y'ffre in his arms, and places the lad upon the throne to rule as measure permits, but jostling and play cut short his rule as revolt by younger brother Hircine sparks rivalry, when energetic Hircine pushes his brother out of the throne and makes himself king for a time until little-known Sanguine begs a turn and brings an end to fire, laughing as summer passes and the trees, once proud, bare all. He delights in this mischief and sees a chance to indulge his naughtiness.

Laughing still, youngest Sanguine is thrown forwards as angry elder Kyne shakes him loose of power with her voice, and claims once more her icy dominion, whilst Sun-father tires and makes for nebulous sleep himself, unable and unwilling to challenge his firstborn's claim, and so the wheel turns, times change and children sleep since Kyne has the throne once more.