They shone darkly within the flame-woven depths.

From them came the volleys of the lightnings.
Score upon score of them there were--huge and enigmatic.

Their flaming levins threaded the shimmering veils, patterned them, as though they were the flying robes of the very spirit of fire.
And the tumult was as ten thousand Thors, smiting with hammers against the enemies of Odin.

As a forge upon whose shouting anvils was being shaped a new world.
A new world?
A metal world! The thought spun through my mazed brain, was gone--and not until long after did I remember it.

For suddenly all that clamor died; the lightnings ceased; all the flitting radiances paled and the sea of flaming splendors grew thin as moving mists.