Despite the clear skies and the cool sea breeze, the sky had never felt heavier. Atlas heaved under the weight.
“Do not fret, my friend!” A voice, loud as a cheery drunk, called out to him.
Atlas, from his place on the southern shores of the Mediterranean, looked across the plains and steppes of the Eurasian landmass toward his friend—a towering being with thick, silky hair and two golden horns adorning either side of his head. Beneath his feet lay the murky soil of the Earth, and upon his shoulders and hands sat the swirling, glittering skies of the Heavens. He looked at Atlas with a wide smile and a glint in his eyes.
“Pangu,” Atlas called to his friend. “How could I not?”
“You are young!” Pangu said. “Your burden is a momentary one! You will be free thereafter.”
“If I could shake my head I would. My punishment has been fated for eternity. The gods have judged me for my criminal acts and for that I must carry this weight forever.”
Pangu’s laughter was an earthquake across the land, nearly shaking Atlas’ footing.
“Nothing is eternal, my friend! Nothing!”
Pangu’s laughter rang like wondrous thunder in the air. The sound, like the heavy beating of a drum, reverberated through Atlas’ body. For a second the sky seemed lighter, until Pangu’s laughter trailed off into a chuckle, then silence. Atlas looked over and saw Pangu smiling to himself.
“How do you do it?” Atlas asked. “How do you stay so happy, standing there for so long? Does the burden of the Heavens not weigh upon your shoulders?”
Pangu laughed once again. “The Heavens are no burden of mine! Let me tell you, boy, I owe as much to the Heavens and the Earth as the Heavens and the Earth do to me.”
“Is that so?”
“It is! Without me, the Heavens and the Earth would be nothing more than murky chaos, and without the Heavens and the Earth—well, I’d not be born! From their balance I was hatched, and for the whole of my life I must uphold that balance.”
“What a cruel fate!”
“Fate or duty? Call it the same, if you so desire, but since you name it fate then fate it will be named. I’ve long accepted this fate given to me by this land of my birth. It is the whole of who I am, and I am the whole of who it is.”
Atlas gazed at the Heavens upon Pangu’s shoulders. Oh, how they embraced him so lovingly…
“I long to be like you,” Atlas said, “I have no stake in this place I was put. The land I had called home has become a prison I must toil under. How I wish to know myself as I know the land of my birth, but I fear I know neither.”
“You underestimate yourself, boy! I thought the same when I was your age.”
“Did you really?”
Pangu nodded. “It is difficult to understand why the universe weighs so heavy on your back, or why the Earth won’t soften itself for just a moment to allow your feet some rest, but the Heavens and the Earth are my parents, and it is an honor to carry them with me.”
“I fear I do not share the same sentiment. The Heavens and the Earth are no parents of mine. I would love to honor them as you do, for doing so would relieve my burden, but I feel no love for these weights I bear.”
Pangu grinned. “Who said you had to love them?”
Pangu burst into another fit of laughter. That warm, drum-like sound was so captivating that even in his weariness, Atlas could not help but join in on the laughter. Their voices sang through the steppes and the plains, over the mountains and across the oceans that lay beyond the two of them. For once it seemed that the sky had no bearing on Atlas’ mind; his only duty in this universe was to laugh alongside his friend.
Pangu’s laughter skipped a beat. It caught in his throat and lost its breath, descending into a series of sharp, heaving coughs that sounded less like drums and more like spears. Atlas looked upon his friend and saw that he had ducked his head down low.
“Pangu.” Tinges of fear creeped into Atlas’ voice. “Are you alright?”
Pangu’s smile was weak.
“Nothing is eternal, my friend. Nothing…”
There was a long silence between the two of them. The sky was heavy.
“I was born,” Pangu started slowly, “18,000 years ago. A child of the cosmic egg, I grew alongside the Heavens and the Earth, bearing witness to the universe’s divine beginnings. I have seen the world unfold from the divine principles that underlay its soil, and I am certain that it will continue to unfold as beautifully as it did in my life as in my death.”
“Pangu…” Atlas’ voice was a broken whisper, too pained to say anything more.
“Please don’t look at me with those guilty eyes, my friend. I urge you not to add the burden of shame onto your shoulders as well. I am glad to have known you as my friend, and I wish that in your years hereafter, you may find solace in the land upon which you stand. Thank you, Atlas, for your kindness. I must go lie down now.”
Pangu sat down into the soft soil of the Earth and laid his head upon the shore, the ocean brushing the top of his head like a mother petting her child to sleep. His arms and legs, stretched out across the fertile plains, melted into the Earth and hardened into mountainous stone. Flesh released itself from bone and separated into flowing streams of water that permeated the land like veins. The silky hair that had adorned his body found refuge in the Earth, growing into leafy vegetation that pointed towards the Heavens. His eyes fixed their final gaze upwards, shining like the sun and the moon. He breathed outwards one last time. A soft wind stroked Atlas’ cheek.
The sky grew heavier.
Atlas grieved for centuries thereafter. Despite his best efforts, he could only look at the Heavens with resentment, the Earth with hate, and that mountainous landmass across the Mediterranean with longing—longing for his friend, and longing to be like his friend, welcomed by the arms of the home that had birthed him. But that burden of the skies that had once been shared by his friend rested solely on Atlas’ shoulders now, and he heaved under that weight.
Bearer of the Heavens and sole witness to Pangu’s death, Atlas thought himself nothing more than a stranger to the land he stood upon. His grief seemed eternal, but what Atlas did not know was that one day the dirt under his feet would become like a soft cushion that held him, and the clouds would blow playful kisses towards his cheek. And the skies, though burdensome, would rest their heads upon his shoulders and whisper apologies for the circumstances of his existence. And that landmass across the Mediterranean, though transformed into something unrecognizable, would flow with bounty and life, and Atlas will look upon it with love.
And one day Atlas will find his place upon this Earth as well, transformed into sturdy mountains at the edge of the Mediterranean. With one final breath, he will blow a loving breeze eastward, and it will reach the ocean shore where those old mountains meet the water. And moments later, a soft wind will brush Atlas’ cheek in return.
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