The skypeople had time and space; they owned these and controlled them. No fence held back their determination; no horn told them when to stop and then start. They were free.
Their sky home was for the most part a place of color and light. Dark blue, then translucent grey; then light blue deepening throughout the day; then fierce fire colors—yellow, red and orange—streaming from the hearth of the sky; then purple and grey before deepening blue; and a sudden fade to black.
The skypeople owned time and space, and the dark of the night did not constrain them. The skypeople had many small lights in their keep; they would affix these to the purring, cold-shining bodies in which they moved together through the sky. The skypeople's lights were small and steady, bright and pointed; while down below the lights of the Corypeople swelled big and glowed soft, and waved in a constant capricious dance.
A young skyperson held a small light in his hand. He was young and had great energy; and he was free. No force made him stop what he was doing when the dark came down. He could sit upon his cloud and think of new things to do; and then he could do his thoughts.
The young skyperson suddenly stood up upon his cloud. He had thought of a new thing to do.
When the skypeople needed great light at night, light to fill the sky, they used their thundersticks. They would strike the sticks together, and a blade of light would slice through the sky. Bright white light would explode from this spark, throwing every house and tree and curve and angle of Cory into sharp relief.
The young skyperson found a single thunderstick. He was going to make light, and it was going to fill the sky, but this time it would last forever.
The young skyperson tossed the small light from his hand up into the air. The small light fell back down; the skyperson caught it and tossed it upwards again. Again and again he tossed the small light. After the last toss, he did not catch the light again. Instead, as the light was dropping back down towards the cloud, the skyperson grasped the thunderstick one hand below another. He brought the thunderstick around in a smooth fast arc from behind to level with to before and below his shoulders.
The stick struck the star, and it skipped in short hops across the sky, and stayed where it stopped. The skyperson struck another light, this time swinging his stick in an up-tilting plane. The star cut a beautiful arc through the night sky, coming to rest far beyond the first.
The Corypeople looked up and saw the game. At first they watched its beauty in breathless silence.
The skyperson tossed and swung again and again, skipping and shooting stars across the sky, spraying them from different angles until the entire grid was saturated with points of light. In one series he landed three stars close to one another in a row. The Corypeople clapped and called out in amazement.
The skyperson was moved by the cheers. He sprang from the cloud with his thunderstick and his bottomless pouch of lights. He would bring them the beautiful game. He would bring them joy and joy in their praise. They would share in mutual delight.
Author's Note: This was of course a combined myth covering the origin of the stars and the introduction of baseball to Cory. You already know what the stars are; in the next segment I will cover how baseball really opened up Urtthrian contact with Cory. It will include a shout-out to one of my favorite shows, Mike & Mike in the Morning 
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