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3/5/2022 at 23:52
Anonymous
Everyone
Shattered Souls, Part V: The Evergiving Earth

After the tumultuous unravelling of Varo, Elder God of Death, and His partial repair of the Soul Mirror, Sapience enjoyed calm for a time, though speculation as to Varo's nature and what His unexpected arrival portended remained rife. While Elder Death's machinations unfolded, a lone bud blossomed in one of the most damaged sections of the Kalydian Forest. It was Ranger Iola who first alerted the Sentinels, and by extension Duiran, to the new growth, and the Ranger found herself inexplicably drawn to it, captivated by it, and vowed to patrol that region of the woodland more diligently following the oversized sunflower's discovery.

Weeks passed and winter wound on, but it was not the cold, bitter winter of every-year. Dazzling sunlight dappled the firmament with unseasonable brightness. Midsummer's heat washed across the continent in a passing fancy. Life flourished in a fleeting moment of inexplicable acceleration. These phenomena culminated in a gilded aurora hanging over the Kalydian, shafts of light streaming skyward as what remained of life in that long-suffering woodland began to stir. The low notes of a fragmented song rose, rousing the trees to soughing and the birds to chirping.

Enraptured by the music, Ranger Iola found herself drawn to the mysterious sunflower once more as the song climbed in both intensity and pitch. The flower drew streams of pale quintessence into itself and swelled with newfound life and vitality, growing to enormous proportions while the voice sang on and the Ranger, utterly calm and accepting, stepped into its sunlit aura. Gently, the song became a lullaby as mammoth fronds wrapped about Iola in a tight embrace until, in the midst of a cyclone churning with bract and colourful petals, she was gone. In her place stood a figure draped in golden sunlight, a crown of living boughs woven through the tresses of Her hair: Yanai, the Evergiving Earth, Elder Goddess of Life, and Earthmother.

"What has become of My Son?" asked the Goddess of the world, as dozens swarmed to greet Her. Profound sadness took Her upon hearing news of Varo's demise, a thorn withering from Her crown to mark His passage. Despite Her grief and sorrow, the dignity of the Elder Goddess won out, and though inwardly She mourned, outwardly She grew only more radiant and kind. Confusion, too, reigned within Her; as She attempted to get Her bearings, many questions She asked, of Dhar the Underking, of the area She stood in, and of the world at large. When informed that Her Son had come out of the Ley and had not, as She assumed, spent eternity presiding over the realm of Death, Her composure faltered, and She insisted vehemently that the Ley was no prison for Elder Gods. It became clear that, much like Varo before Her, Yanai was ancient beyond measure, originating from a time, and perhaps even a place, long beyond the memories of even the other Gods.

Visibly bothered by the damaged Kalydian surrounding Her, the Goddess enquired of its history. Sadness once more took Her as She learned of the late Lleis and the fate of nature, left without a tender to heal its pain. Of Dendara She spoke as a 'Lirathyar' - believed by the Goddess to be a prototype plane where all forms of life are designed. Each world that sustained life, She went on to explain, had such a plane anchored to it. Though fascination reigned in many of the mortals gathered before Her, entranced by Her beauty and kind, motherly demeanour, suspicion too dwelt in many. She asked of Her people - known only as the Arboreans - and of the Greenwood forest, describing both as wonders of life that were precious to Her. Though crestfallen by the lack of answers, She resolved to find them, and vanished in a pillar of cherry blossoms.

When next the Goddess surfaced, it was in the Bloodwood, where the lingering song of the remnant Tsol'aa had drawn Her in hope of finding what She sought. Though it was a search in vain, the Hunter came to Her side and the Two conversed. He was, at first, suspicious and wary, naming Her impostor, though Yanai offered Him only comfort and warmth. The likeness to Lleis was striking, and the God found Himself torn, the repressed emotions of many years rising to the surface with newfound grief. He struggled with His words, though His fascination with Yanai was plain; He watched as She listened to the earth and shared Her sorrow when She declared the Bloodwood beyond Her power to save.

Slowly, gradually, Haern began to let His guard down and the two Gods traded gifts: a white rose from Yanai's crown given freely, and a beetle charm that the Hunter had carved personally from one of the once-Aalen's knotted roots. They spoke of Lleis and of Dendara, of the constant death visited upon the world, and, again, of the Arboreans and the Greenwood, of which Haern, sadly, knew nothing. Things soured when the Goddess, in an earnest effort to help, offered to ease the Hunter's burdens by assuming some of the duties once held by Lleis. Though Haern longed for Her to be real and true, His mistrust won out. Again He named Her impostor, and, becoming angry at what He perceived as a betrayal of His Sister's memory, He was gone.

Resigned that Her people were lost, Yanai declared that She would instead bring them to Her, and in the process, heal the Kalydian of its wounds. With the Arboreans at Her side, She insisted, She could heal much of the damage sustained by the rest of the world, undo the effects of lifeless sand and yet more miracles besides. She spoke of Her Song Eternal, the Song of Life and Creation, utilised in ages past to bring life into the world. Many of Duiran met these words with yet more suspicion - mistrustful of Her seeming disregard for the cycle and Her desire to bring so much growth into the world. In pained tones She assured them that none knew Death better than Life Incarnate, and urged them not to question Her regard for the seasons, and the cycle they represented. Many remained unconvinced, scepticism deepening as Yanai spoke of chaos in disapproval, unimpressed with tales of Omei.

Nevertheless, Her course was set. And so it was that a great Ritual of Life was devised. Aiming to celebrate the end of winter and usher in the spring, Yanai proclaimed that She would recompose Her song for the modern era, and outlined the ritual's requirements for all gathered. Nine instruments She requested - three of strings, three of wind, and three drums, carved from wood alone and created with prayers to the Earth. Several dancers and singers would be needed, to strengthen the ritual and make its success more likely. Each dancer would carry salt to scatter in a circle, while the singers would carry sticks of incense: rosemary for remembrance, sage for wisdom, thyme for courage, mint for virtue, lavender for devotion, cinnamon for stability, and jasmine for love. Wood and inks and a bolt of cloth formed the final requirements, and once again the Goddess was gone, leaving Caitria Cardinalis to organise the coming proceedings.

While preparations were underway for the ritual, the Rekindled Goddess appeared within the Edge of the Kalydian. Though She knew not what to make of Yanai, the promise of renewal had roused Ethne to fulfil a similar promise made in times past to Stine Emerson. Gathering flames about Herself and with many gathered to bear witness, Ethne turned Her eyes upon the rotting corpse of Valakris, the Bellower. The cleansing flames burned the corspe to ash and began to sear away the lingering corruption, plumes of smoking rising into the sky to mark Her efforts. When asked for advice on whether to participate in the coming rite, Ethne told them to follow their hearts, and was gone.

The day of the ritual arrived with considerable anxiety from volunteers and observers. Rumours ran rampant about the true purpose for the Goddess' ritual, with much of Duiran refusing to take part after the combined efforts of Speakers Iesid and Sibatti prophesied doom, their theories alternating between the Evergiving Earth birthing a cosmic army on Sapience, or choking the entire continent with an abundance of unsustainable growth. In the end, led by the Voice and Fury of the Wilds, a multicultural troupe was formed for the Goddess' Song. Made up of Sryaen, Taye, Yvi, Valorie, Sekeres, Ixmi, Kaiara, Holbrook, Lin, Wjoltyr, Merek, Roux, Illikaal, Jhura, Koharu, and Ayastia, with Yanai choosing the Voice of the Wilds, Caitria Cardinalis, as Her conduit, they were all blessed with ritual symbols at the Goddess' hands, their tattoos representing all the elements.

The first efforts proved to be painful for performers and watchers, before the assembled retinue for the Everbright Elder found their synergy. Exerting Her influence upon Her conduit, possessing the Voice of Duiran, the Song of Creation began. The first strains the Goddess sang caught all by surprise as the Kalsu language was moulded into a song - translated eerily by Caitria into the common tongue. Caught up in Her thrall, the Goddess' spirited accompaniment sang, danced, and played through seven stanzas, invoking the earth, awakening the fire, before tapering off into a portentous apology for Her family. Disquiet rippled through the Ritual's watchers at the words, some preparing for violence at the People the Goddess of Life was preparing to create in the Kalydian.

As the last notes faded, the ritually empowered Goddess stepped into the heart of the Kalydian forest, sheltered by a brilliant corona of sunlight. Aglow with the manifest might of Elder Divinity, Her smile was unconditional and motherly as She glided, sparking sunbeams and fledgling blooms behind her. The Woodland Queen came to rest in the very heart of the blight and degradation that so plagued this woodland. She inhaled deeply, and then exhaled a breath of dawn and sunlight. Waves of luminescence spilled forth, creating a brilliantine border around the whole of the damaged wood. Her sunlight soaked in a golden torrent, Her song raising as She sang the Song of Creation until the harmony was volant through the skeletal branches.

The taint clinging to the Kalydian's outskirts yielded to a bright melisma of growth. Life stirred beneath the canopies and under the burgeoning eaves. Light streaked between bough and branch, 'twixt thorn and thicket, the empyreal brightness forming a grand arborealis beneath which saplings sprouted as mature trees. In the centre of this rampant profusion of growth, a single redwood basked in winters snowmelt, absorbing the effects of the Song. As it opened its eyes, those who stood at the Kalydian's edges gasped in shock.

"My Song has prevailed. My People live anew!" Giddy with a mother's effusive pride, She that was Life sought out Her people, rushing through the now-healed copse. A tenderfoot sapling stumbled into Her path, being the first that the Evergiving Earth laid eyes upon.

Instead of pleasure, it was surprise and pain that struck Her. Horror manifested as some realization twisted Her flowered form. Spinning away from the young Arborean, Yanai laid hands upon a grizzled Arborean, sharing memories swiftly as the power of Her Song faded. This last act was a mother's sacrifice. Schisms cracked across the beauteous planes of Her face, pouring sunlight from within. The world watched as the aureant light darkened, a final autumn coming for the life-giving Goddess.

Anger and apology collided in the Goddess of Life's last words, but Her temper soon yielded to wan acceptance. Calmly She vowed to Her Father, Varyuch, that even She could not forgive Him for this. To the people of Sapience, a wish came, voiced in a choked, despondent voice: "I wish I could have renewed more than this one place. I am sorry."

The end of the Evergiving Earth hastened. Pine needles frothed from Her boughs as the coppice of Burval withered from Her branches. Aurous light speared away from Her collapsing silhouette, before Her mortal form shattered. What remained of Yanai was caught like dust aglow in sunbeams, before a cruel wind snatched even that away.

Falling as Her Son before Her, so too did the Evergiving Earth succumb, leaving behind the final, moss-sown legacy of Ranger Iola's remains, seeded as a flowering tribute for the Rhythm.

Long after the grieving had begun, a lone Gnome sang a Dirge for the Earth in the wake of enormous ritual magic - and was turned into a tree for his troubles.

Penned by my hand on Kinsday, the 9th of Ios, in the year 501 MA.