“The Gods in Between” by NightEyes DaySpring

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You’re listening to Pride Month on The Voice of Dog.

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This is Rob MacWolf, your fellow traveler,

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and Today’s story is

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“The Gods In Between”

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by NightEyes DaySpring,

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one of the stories from his collection Gnoll Tales, that won a 2023 Ursa Major Award for Best General Literary Work. NightEyes is a wolf with a penchant for coffee and a love of fantasy fiction.

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Information about him and his writing

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can be found at nighteyes-dayspring.

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-dayspring.com. Liminality

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—the quality of being in between two known or settled states,

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an equinox, a crossroads, a seashore

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—has been a key quality in folklore and religion

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for longer than the written word has existed,

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and for just as long

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have queer people been instinctively felt to possess an inherent liminality,

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and we will make no attempt to deny this.

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Non-binary gender, especially,

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has often been seen as the province of:

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“The Gods In Between”

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by NightEyes DaySpring

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In the drylands, trees are scarce because rain is infrequent.

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The hearty acacias that grow in these lands live short lives,

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but there is one

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that is so old it has seen empires come and go.

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This sacred acacia, which is infused by magical powers, is known as the Lover’s Tree.

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Many, many years ago, back when the new gods were first coming into the world,

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it stood alone, and it was just a tree.

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Then one day a gnoll named Renu came

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and sat under the tree

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to enjoy its shade

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and waited. They were a curious gnoll, not because they were particularly special,

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but because they

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were always in between male and female.

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We do not know if they were born in between or just felt in between, but they were

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just in between. It matters not how they were born

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anyway. Under the acacia Renu sat

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and rested. The tree offered good shade, and they had come to think.

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Some people told the gnoll they should craft like a male,

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skilled with their paws and keen with their eyes,

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while others said that

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they should hunt like a female, swift

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with their footpaws and strong with their spear throws.

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The village elders told Renu

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to just pick a path,

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but everyone wanted them to be something they weren’t.

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Renu would have none of it.

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They were not one thing, but two things,

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and whomever they would love

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would need to understand that.

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On the advice of a village elder,

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it was suggested they go find a tree to sit under and figure it out.

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The elder might have meant this as finding any tree and just

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settle the confusion with themself,

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but Renu saw this as a quest.

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Thus, they journeyed for many days,

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seeking the right

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tree, seeking the right

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place to think, and when they found that tree, they sat in its beautiful shade

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and thought. The first day, nothing new came to them,

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and the next, nothing new came to them,

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but Renu kept thinking

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about who they were

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and what they were.

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Nothing changed, and confused on the purpose of the elder’s advice, they stayed under the acacia.

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A passing shepherd, a dark-skinned human,

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saw them there and offered them water and

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Renu accepted it gratefully.

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Then another shepherd offered them some meat, and they accepted it too.

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Through all this, Renu stayed under the tree,

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and days turned into weeks.

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The locals assumed they were a holy person of some kind on a vigil,

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and they brought food and water to Renu who kept their vigil, deep in meditation.

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After forty days,

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another gnoll came to the tree

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and sat with Renu. They too

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had always struggled to find who they were,

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caught between the genders,

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and together the two sat

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and meditated for a few hours,

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unsure of the other’s plight until the second gnoll finally asked.

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“Why do you sit under this tree?”

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“I sit because one of my village elders told me

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I should sit under a tree

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and think through myself

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to find who I am,”

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replied Renu. “And are you that hard to find?”

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asked the other gnoll. “I know who I am,

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but no one else knows who I am.

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They insist on labeling me one sex or the other, but I am both,

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and neither.” “Ah, I know that feeling,”

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said the second gnoll.

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“You do?” replied Renu, ears up in surprise.

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“Oh yes. My parents wanted a boy, but I came out different.

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Neither one nor the other really.”

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“There are others like me?”

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replied Renu, hackles up in excitement. “Well,

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there is at least me, but I have heard of others.

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We’re not too common.”

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“Still, you see it,

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and you understand.”

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The second gnoll bobbed their head and nodded, tall wagging.

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“Yes. My name is Shena.”

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“Renu,” they responded, getting up.

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“My vigil has been answered.

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If you would like, I can take you to my village and show the elder I am not

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the only one.” Shena considered.

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“Does the approval of an elder matter that much?

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If they could not see the you you always were,

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could they see the me I have always been?”

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“No, probably not,” said Renu. “Let’s just talk,

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here in the shade.

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The locals have given me a bit of water and some dried meat, and I can share it with you.”

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“I’d like that,” said Shena.

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Renu and Shena stayed under the tree

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for two more days, talking

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and laughing. Then, coming to a decision, they left the shade of the acacia and built a hut next to it,

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and decided to live together there.

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Soon others came, and a small village formed around the tree,

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and each night, Renu and Shena would sit under the tree for an hour

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after dinner before bed.

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The gnolls and humans of their new village listened to them,

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and learned much about who they were and what the world was.

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They offered advice only on love and always gently,

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like a gnoll treats their newborn cubs.

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Here, in this village, Renu and Shena grew old, and it was here they died, together.

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The people buried them under their acacia, careful to nestle them between its roots while

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not disturbing the tree.

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Then they told the story of Renu and Shena to the people of the nearby villages,

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and others came to the tree to sit and think.

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Not all were confused on who they were, but some were just lonely.

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Many a couple met under the tree.

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A year passed, and under the tree on clear nights people started saying they saw things.

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There would be two gnolls holding hands, talking to themselves.

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And that wasn’t the only curious thing about the acacia. People started feeling presences

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of great power when they saw these spirits

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and a sense of love and connection to each other.

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The tree had born two new gods right here in their village,

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and since then, lovers of all species, dwarf, elf, human, and gnoll

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pray to Renu and Shena,

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the gods of love

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and patience. Together, they rule with the other gods,

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and their tree continues to grow and flourish,

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even though it has long outlived any other acacia in the world.

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And on clear nights,

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sometimes you will find their spirits still,

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under the acacia

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talking together.

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This was “The Gods In Between” by NightEyes DaySpring,

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read for you by Rob MacWolf,

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werewolf hitchhiker.

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You can find more stories on the web

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at thevoice.dog,

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or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.

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Happy Pride, and Thank you for listening to The Voice of Dog.