Cold winds blew in the empty, barren land. Not a tree nor plant could be seen underneath the sky with color that matched rusting steel. Hills and mountains of brown dirt and stone were the only geological objects worth noting. However, in this age of desolation, there lived a single species. Humanoid individuals known as Vaelorns.
However, these were not organisms. They felt no hunger. They had no sleep. They could not reproduce. They could not die.
To their knowledge, they had just always existed. They only had their speech and their names. Such a boring, meaningless life this was. They could feel no pleasure, pursue no dreams, nor could they wish such a thing. Some wished for an end to this meaningless existence, but the Vaelorn weren't even capable of this. They simply wandered these empty lands, for what else was one to do.
Among this species, one was distinguishable from the others. One whose spirit was not sunken. One who was viewed as delusional. This Vaelorn went by the name of Lyrion. Lyrion believed is something strange. A higher power, one that had given him a purpose. Whether there was any truth to his words, or was it just pure madness? No one that observed him could deduce the answer. But once in a while, he could be seen climbing the tallest mountain. A pilgrimage he bestowed upon himself. In a world that was fully explored, only one thing remained unknown.
What was above?
At the top of this mountain, Lyrion made it his duty to pray. There was no day, nor no night. So Lyrion prayed until he was satisfied. Then he would walk down only to climb back up. The tale he would tell, the tale of a Creator above was one that began to resonate within the hearts of many. But still, no one had the desire to join Lyrion on his climbs.
Then came a meeting. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was chance. To Lyrion, it was an answer. For upon his ten thousandth prayer, a being came down from the sky to meet him. Feminine in appearance, her ethereal presence commanded even the world to direct their eyes towards her. She was clad from head to toe in a fluttering white dress. Her white pupils were a mirror that Lyrion could view his own ungroomed, disheveled self in. His ragged beard and unruly hair directly contrasted the angelic face and strands of hair as pretty as snow. Most captivating however, was the bright light that surrounded her. She was akin to a moon in the midst of this gloom filled world. She was the first to open her mouth, her words were like comfort. Like they were bringing Lyrion to the end of a terrible nightmare.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"What a pitiful sight you are."
Her fingers stroke his face, affectionate like a mother's.
"It must be hard, living the life you do. Tell me your name if you have one."
The word "Lyrion" was barely stammered out from the Vaelorn's mouth. The emotion he felt now was unlike none he had ever felt before. In fact, many would call it his first emotion. When the woman replied, her tone never changed, but her hand had left Lyrion's face and were now reaching inside her dress.
"A brilliant name. Lyrion, the man who stands highest in this world. I deem you worthy of this task. It is one that will give you the sun, the moon, and stars. It will give you mortality, it will give you dreams. These words are nothing you can comprehend right now. But one day you will. For that is why I was sent to you."
She had pulled out a bag the size of a small hand. She pulled out Lyrion's hand and emptied the bag's contents within it. They were small seeds, the first Lyrion had ever seen. He didn't know what they were, but the different colors of each seed were like visual candy to him.
"Begin now, my dear Lyrion. Heed my words carefully, for I will not return to ensure your mission's success."
A wave of desperation crawled across Lyrion's body upon hearing these words, but before he could form the words to the hundreds of pleas running through his head, he was silenced by the comforting smile before him.
----------------------------------------
For the next few centuries, Lyrion worked tirelessly. With every other hour, he would repeat the words in his head. The last words that woman had said to him.
"Travel. Travel to every corner of the world. And plant. Make holes for the seeds."
The First Seed, for the flames and suffering.
The Second Seed, for the tundras and all else that is beautiful.
The Third Seed, for the breeze and the life it will bring.
The Fourth Seed, for the seas and everything within.
And in the center world, plant the Final Seed, for the sun and the shadows.
"Do this and you will achieve what you have always desired. The life of a mortal."
end.