There was a time before time began. All of everything that was, was contained within the walls of a single castle. Outside those walls was nothing, only darkness. Inside there was light. No shadow existed inside, only light in its purest form.

The occupants of this castle were journeyman craftsmen engaged in the making of light. Each brought to this work a particular expertise in some aspect of making light. Under the watchful eye of a single Master, each labored diligently to perfect his individual task.

The Master knew all the secrets of creating light. He, among all those who toiled produced the purest light. The others created lesser, dimmer, paler light than the incredible hues and shades of brightness created by Him.

Among the journeymen, a particular one labored. His name has never revealed, but his work has survived for millennia. He was different from his fellows in that he often deviated from what were his assigned tasks. He was ambitious and wished to please his Master.

As an apprentice, when not attending to his own duties, he had moved among the journeymen, observed their work in progress, thus learning the techniques each of them employed in their production of light. The procedures he absorbed were as different and diverse as were his teachers and as mysterious as the Master Himself.

Apprenticeship passed quickly. He became a craftsman. Among his peers, he was respected for his abilities. Even so, ambition drove him. He longed for more. He longed to equal the abilities of his Master.

It dawned on him that no such equality would be forthcoming until his skills increased beyond that of his fellows. There came upon him an inspiration. A deed must be performed, above and beyond his assigned tasks. Having decided, he then set forth and gathered about him what he needed to create a masterpiece.

He arranged his tools and materials at his bench. Determination glowed within him, as he set about the task of forging Red. It was a daunting challenge. There had been other attempts at Red prior to his. More experienced craftsmen before him had attempted to isolate the purity of this color. They expended great effort, only to end up with pale pastels on the bench before them when they were done.

This craftsman was driven to succeed. He worked his light with a fierce determination that rarely had ever been seen within the castle of light. He forged his Red into a jewel of ruby, an essence so richly and purely Red as to stun the senses, so Red as to truly be the definition of the color.

The Master observed this effort from a distance, offering no advice. The craftsman’s enthusiasm and dedication pleased him greatly. Only when the jewel had been completed did he come forth. He examined it carefully, then complimented the craftsman on the excellence of his creation. After so doing, the Master withdrew, leaving the craftsman to bask in the warm glow of his wondrous accomplishment. 

The craftsman was consumed with joy at such attention and praise from his Master. He immediately set to work again with renewed vigor and determination.

Now he forged Blue. Not a pale or pastel shade of blue such as that those worked by his peers. Rather, he created a deep reverberating Blue; a many faceted sapphire Blue destined to eclipse any Blue any journeyman before him had ever created. It was a bright and promising Blue that whispered the color of dreams.

The Master took a renewed interest in the craftsman. He came forth to inspect, then radiated glowing praise for such a Blue as he saw before him. Among all journeymen, in all the Castle of Light, this Blue was truly unique. No other could match it. So declaring, he went away again.

The craftsman felt truly honored. Inspired by this further acceptance of his talents. He became even more determined to prove his worth.

Emboldened, he embarked upon a plan to create White. This would not be just any White. It would be a White so pure that it would shine more brightly than the White created by the Master , who was in fact  the only one in all the Castle of light who could any forge white at all.

The craftsman labored furiously. Repeatedly he forged, but each attempt failed utterly. In growing frustration, the craftsman worked tirelessly, then madly. Determined as he was to forge White, that was how much true White eluded his grasp.

The Master did not interfere with the craftsman’s labors, nor did he offer advice. He observed and waited. Others had attempted to do this thing the craftsman took upon himself. Each before him had worked himself into a fury, all eventually to no avail. The Master alone held the secrets of White, secrets that could not be shared, only discovered. Within White lay the very essence of and the keys to keys to light itself. 

Determined, the craftsman first forged Red. To this he added carefully prepared Green and Yellow and Blue. These blended easily. He mixed and he stirred, fusing a bit of this with a bit of that, tinkering with great subtlety until the color was complete.

How surprised he was. He did not get what he expected. To his utter amazement, this monumental effort that should have yielded White gave up Black instead. A collective gasp issued forth from the observing journeymen. In his zeal to create White, the craftsman had forged Black.

This time, when the Master of Light came forth to inspect, he displayed disapproval. No one forged Black. It was imprudent. Black existed as the essence of the darkness outside the castle. Black was a most undesirable thing.

The craftsman was devastated at his failure. How could such a result come about from such a well intentioned effort? He was broken hearted, but at the dame time, determined to redeem himself in the eyes of the Master.

The craftsman set about to find a repair. He desperately needed to find a way to blot out this offensive non-color, this Black that offered so much anxiety. Having gained permission to right this wrong, and with all his peers, including the Master of Light himself in attendance, the craftsman plunged anew into his work, mixing colors, blending shades and hues in such a furious blur of intent and motion that those looking on feared for his safety.

At last he was done. With much pride and sense of accomplishment that dwarfed any feelings for his other achievements, he presented this new creation.

 He presented the color Sliver. It was opulent, a glowing Silver, a shimmering pseudo-white of such brilliance that all journeymen were in awe. Here was an entirely new color. This Silver actually rivaled the Master’s White, for within its aura faintly glowed rainbows of all the other colors. 

It had been the craftsman’s intent to undo his previous error. He intended to eradicate the undesired Black. To this end, without an offer of explanation as to why,  he proceeded to do just that. He poured Silver over top of the rejected Black, blotting it out completely, but with much different than expected results. 

Suddenly a strange and unprecedented thing occurred. Imperceptibly, at first, than gradually more and more noticeably, all the light within the castle, all the light that had ever been forged by every journeyman who had ever toiled within the castle, began to be drawn into the silver then reflected off it.

The Silver glowed in deep luster. It radiated such brightness that all eyes were diverted save those of the Master of Light and the creator of Silver. The luminescence grew in intensity and power. It reflected and it grew until the brightness of it dominated everything. It expanded and became brighter until finally, the castle of light could no longer contain it.

Bursting  forth in an explosion of pure White so intense, so magnificent as to defy description or imagination, the luminescence shattered the barrier between light and darkness, breeched the walls that would contain it. Shooting outward in all directions at once through the void, White raced toward in all directions toward infinity at infinite speed. As it did, different, lesser colors could not sustain the momentum and began to break away, slow down.

Dust and bits of the matter that had once made up the walls of the Castle of Light fell behind as well. gradually, the cataclysm lessened in the wake of the frantic leading edge of the first wave of White.

The same explosion scattered all the Journeymen in as many directions as there were directions. After a bit, they too began to slow. Each one now found himself out in a newly formed expanse of matter and light. Each discovered that new and exciting work had been made possible as a result of the cataclysm. Each according to his skill gathered materials at hand and began forging galaxies, stars and planets, applying colors to shape, creating shape where there had been only void. In fact, they did so with much enthusiasm, each now inspired to outdo the other with excellence. A magnificent universe began to take form where previously there had been nothing.

Prior to this event taking place time did not existed. As a result of the explosion, time came into being as a way to chronicle the progress of the aftermath.

The Master of Light was both pleased and saddened by these events. With the coming of time comes also a beginning and that is a joyous thing. But beginnings lead to endings as well. The Master's departure was eminent. He complimented each of the craftsman on his ingenuity, remarking, with pride, on the striking beauty of each newly created masterpiece. He proclaimed, for all the others to hear, the Journeyman to be Master of this creation. So saying, He charged the new Master to supervise this ongoing work carefully, lest some ambitious student accidentally invoke chaos within his reality.

 So saying, he withdrew and left our universe in the hands of its engineers.

So came into being motion and time. It is a subtle blending of light and dark, our universe. It is said that  The Journeymen of Creation continue to tinker and refine it all, one planet at a time, sharing their appreciation of color, form and order with those whom they are charged to watch over and teach.

But now what of the first Master of Light, of whom nothing further has been spoken?

Beyond the boundaries of space and time comfortably situated in a deep black just outside the edge of infinity, he perfects his craft in solitude, forges White and awaits new journeymen from within reality,  who as we speak,  being apprenticed.

 Copyright 2000 by Bob Liddil All rights Reserved