Tales Of Old

My mother once spoketh of many stories from long ago. Stories that hath been passed from heros, kings, and peasants alike. Stories that perhaps hath been twisted and mangled with millenniums in its wake. Yet despite all that time, there hath always been similarities between these stories. They told of the world before a great calamity, a calamity that eternally blackened the sky and covered the earth in ash and flesh. This was to mine astonishment, as a black sky and gray earth was all I have ever known. I had no idea that the world had looked so much different in eras long before my time. They say the sky once lit the earth in glorious rays of something called 'sunlight,' and the ground was overgrown with wryt. Nowadays, greenery and flowers were a very rare sight, so much so that for one to peer upon some, they had to be very lucky. It was an idea completely foreign and unimaginable in my childish years, yet the idea always stuck with me. "I want to see the blue sky!" I would tell my mother.

I was not the only one who thought this. The stories continue on, accounting the many who hath also wished for a sight of this supposed bright blue sky and colorful lands. They left from many different lands afar in search of whatever unknown power had caused the dark sky. In the end, no one even knew if whatever had painted the sky over was something we could even find. Perhaps it was something intangible or unseen to us, or perhaps, something we had no hope to defeat. Needless to say, we remain bereft of answers, and those who hath ventured from their lands never returned.

It is said in these tales that the greed of a man, a god, or both had brought the end upon the rest of us. I never questioned it, nor dwelt upon it, simply listening to my mother's voice before bed. Whenever one of these stories mentioned something of man, gods, or destruction, I would become dazed, waiting patiently and quietly for my mother to bring up the sky and greenery once more. In the end, all these stories pointed back to greed, something I had trouble comprehending in my younger years. 

I never focused on the ghastly details, my young mind far too optimistic to understand the weight of those stories. The parts that clung to me were the images of a clear blue sky and the greenery of expansive fields of grass, trees, and flowers. It was only when I had gotten older that I had finally understood that it was not the imagery of blue skies and green lands that my mother wanted me to remember, but it was the devastation after. The folly that mine ancestors had bore witness to, and the sins that we stand in the wake of. That was what my mother had foundeth so important to get across to me, but I was far too young to listen properly. It is a mature matter to teach, especially to a child, but my mother always emphasized it, perhaps noticing my boredom with such a thought. Now as one who has grown much wiser, it is indeed the greed told in these olden tales that now speaketh to me, telling me to be weary of trudging down the same agonizing path.

It was not all bad, for the ends of these tales were always left ambiguous. Though the whole lot of those who had searched for the blue sky never returned, my mother never saw this as defeat. "Perhaps they've found it, the azure above, and it was so beautiful that they've forgotten to return home." She would say. Despite her emphasis on the tragic beats of these tales, there were times I could remember her smiling during the acts of the many who ventured off, almost like she was urging me to do the same.These were the moments I lived for as a child, the specks of beauty surrounded by treachery in these tales. Mentions of the colors of the days before the dark inspired something within me, something that I would carry for the rest of my life.

By my early thousands, I was left with nothing but myself. My mother had long passed, and my father's whereabouts still unknown to me, leaving me their empty house in an ashen countryside. I had not thought about my mother's tales for a while, but in the wake of mourning their deaths, many of those tales came flooding back in. I began to reminisce on the imagery of the colors this world had long left behind, the men and women who had journeyed far just to see a hint of those colors, and my mother's warm smiles that came with their stories. It sparked inspiration in me, so I left my family home and wandered the wastelands, not with an intent to find answers to the questions my mother's tales arose, but more so just to see the world. I heard of many kingdoms long past and distant lands left in ruin from these stories, and I wanted to see them for myself.

I ventured off alone without saying a word to the tiny populace of my decrepit hometown, learning things that I would not have if I stayed. There was nothing of importance left there after my parents died: Nothing to tend to, nothing to learn, and no one to teach anything. I found purpose in my journey, acquiring things that would hath otherwise remained a mystery to me. Foreign lands and ancient arts long forgotten, now subjects I take pride in exploring. I grew great interest in them and studied along my travels through this land of ash and flesh, lands that despite their now rotted state, still hold precious history and memories. 

Now I lay here in the waste of an ancient alter, atop a mound of ash surrounded by the bones of the dead. I had forgotten what I was doing here, or what I was studying, but there was a pain in my hand and something surrounded me, dancing and flickering with the wind that steadily blew through the broken stone pillars. Its a dark thing, yet it still illuminates the ground in a pale glow. It starts to consume me, burying me in a harsh cold. "What have I done to end up here?" I pondered, before my vision left me, and I was greeted by the cold void of unconsciousness. I waded in darkness for a while, silently drifting into nothingness. Suddenly a spark from somewhere in the distant void had alighteth. It moved toward me steadily, coming from somewhere afar, a place that seemed completely detached from the black sky. Finally, it entered my body and took residence next to my soul.