In a bygone age, where the world was unformed, shrouded by a dense fog. The rugged planet called Ether was bleak and decrepit. With spirit trees, arching out towards the aether, in their never-ending strive seeking the light.
In their futile effort, one decided to absorb the energies of its kin in an attempt to pierce through the perpetual fog.
Miraculously it managed to overgrow itself through the fog to see the spark beyond the clouds. With its newly found strength from the flame, the Spirit tree lit up, and from its blooming petals blossomed the fruit which would enlighten the world.
As the fruit fell onto Ether, life began to flourish anew. Senses, to feel the heat as well as the cold. Sight, to acknowledge the light as well the dark.
The sentient, they were formed from the earth and a clot of blood. Gaining the essence of sustenance within the fruit.
The first of them would take half of the fruit for themselves, and with it, they've attained power, allowing them to soar high, topping the skies.
The second of them took the top half of what remained, and with it, they elevated themselves and their understanding to a higher plane.
Squabbling amongst each other, the third and the fourth ripped apart what remained of the fruit into three. Seeing the moment of opportunity, the fifth stole a piece for themselves. Leaving the sixth, with only the remaining crumbs to share amongst each other.
Thus, a new age dawned over Ether. With the sentient proclaiming themselves as 'Sprites' at the helm. In their new legacy, they tried accomplishing what the past could not. With the abilities they possess, they embarked to dissolve the surrounding fog.
With their immense power, the first penetrated through the fog, creating holes allowing light to touch the surface. Using the knowledge they've attained, the second invoked a storm. With it, they cleared what had remained of the fog.
Merging themselves with what had remained of the spirit tree, the third fertilized the barren soil, and with the fog dissipated Ether, started overflowing with life.
Thus their age began.
But eventually, the fog shall return to engulf the world once more.
***
The fog had always been feared as they withheld all life. But the life we’re in now, is there any meaning to it?
Closing a book, she had finished reading. Alma’s eyes drifted towards the distant horizon. She didn’t know whether it was the seasickness gutting the joy out of her. Or whether she’s sick of looking at the same scenery for weeks to no end.
As the boat continued rocking, Alma rested herself against the mast, hoping to reduce the wooziness. “Looking gloomy again, lass?” said a gruff old man who happens to be rowing beside her.
“Well, how can’t I be? We’ve been floating on this longboat for weeks. We’ve had nothing to drink but rainwater for the past few days.” complained Alma, croaking with a sore throat.
“Your daughter isn’t much of a sailor, is she Magnus? Haha!” sounded another rower, who smiled with a straight face.
Magnus seemed to brush off the sarcastic joke aside with a slight grunt, which the man reacts to in a slightly disappointed look. “Ah, you’re never any fun.”
The jovial man then stood, bringing a wool blanket in hand. Though as he moved, he would shake the boat lightly with each passing step, causing her to groan. “Put this on," he instructed. "We can't have you dying from the measly cold, eh?"
After Alma had covered her upper body, the man then gave her a flask in which to drink from. Though she felt it was suspicious.
“Go on! It’s better than rainwater, that’s for sure!” affirmed the man. Though she was hesitant at first, the gnawing thirst made her lose all sense of reason.
“Ufft...! Ahh….”
“There it is good, right? Haha!” The man smiled as he looked down upon Alma.
“Hey, Troels, is it a good idea to give the young girl mead?” emphasized another man.
From the start, Alma knew whatever the man was going to give her was an alcoholic beverage. Freshwater had long stagnated and spoiled since they departed.
“Hic…” But she was so thirsty to the point she couldn’t bear to wait for another droplet of rain. She pondered whether the blessings such as rain could even grace them in this cold.
“Huh? What do you mean! Mead is good! It makes you feel warm inside! Right, Alma?” inquired Troels.
“Hic… Yeah, I guess…”
“See? What did I say!? Besides, her father doesn’t seem to mind at all! Eh, Magnus?." affirmed Troels, though as they glanced over, Magnus was already busy communicating light signals with the leading ships ahead.
“Ooh! It seems like landfall is almost upon us!” Shouted Troels enlivened. “Our long journey is almost over!”
“But not yet…,” said Magnus. “Since you’re already up and about Troels, why don’t you check the course ahead, so we don’t get enclaved by two ice floes.”
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“Da! Capt.”
Feeling curious, Alma had also stood to see what lies ahead. The wafting air was brittle like lace upon her skin, it was delicate, yet prickly altogether. Withstanding her cravings to drop unconsciously, Alma peered towards the desolate sheet of white.
“Why…? Why…. Why have we come here!?” Out of sheer disappointment, Alma cried out furiously onto the grey skies above.
***
A week had passed since their arrival upon the Northern shores, and ever since then, the people had only prioritized settling themselves within their new environment. Erecting temporary shelters, a place where they could rest their weary bones. They had also created roofed enclosures for their livestock, whom they had brought across the ocean.
One night, inside of the cabin they’ve built for each other, two men discuss the future. As they rested on top of wooden benches, they stared deep into the crackling blaze upon the hearth.
“Everything had gone according to plan, eh Magnus?” Troels asked.
“It depends… had everyone been accounted for?” asked Magnus.
“Well, everyone who has gotten here. I’ve counted 7 families in total. We have 17 men, 13 women, and 5 children.” Answered Troels.
“Good… We’re lucky we’ve gotten this far, now we only need to survive this dreadfully long winter nights.”
As their discussion ended, the two men exchanged drinks amongst each other in silence, but such stillness was short-lived as the sound of a door being slammed broke all matters of serenity.
“How long will we have to stay here!?” sounded, a sharp piercing cry.
“Alma…”
“She’s on it again, eh?” Troels murmured, in a low tone.
“I don’t want to stay here!” continued Alma. "Please… I want to go back to Lufenia…!”
Magnus overlooked his pleading child even though he noticed the sullen look in her eyes. But he averted his gaze back into the flame, continuing to sip away the heated ice water from his cup.
Unable to contain himself. Troels spoke up after he let out a long sigh. Coming closer, he leaned over towards the weeping child. “Alma…, we’ve been through this, right?”
“No, I’m not convinced as to why we’ve left Lufenia! To this empty wasteland on the rim of the world!” Alma objected incredulously.
“Geez…! Look, Lufenia has changed you know?, Things are complicated, especially for a girl your age. But to put it frankly, we humans are no longer welcome there.” Explained Troels. “You’ve experienced it yourself haven’t cha?”
“So!? It is our home, is it not? It’s also the land of our birthplace! Even if we’re lower class citizens doesn’t mean we should throw ourselves here!” protested Alma.
“No…, there's no reason to continue to live in such a place. We’re merely slaves. Who’s inadequate to pose a will of our own.” Sounded Magnus cutting them off. “We’ve never belonged to such a place.”
“…”
For a moment, time went still between the father and daughter, as a faint trickle of tear drizzled down her rosy red cheek.
“You mean to say…, the home mother tried so hard to maintain... tantamount to nothing?!”
“…”
“As we waited, and waited, for your eventual return to no avail? And now you’re telling me to abandon all hope and run away...? Like when you abandoned mom?!”
“…”
“You’re nothing but a coward!” she continued mockingly.
With one final exchange, the two parted ways for the remainder of the night, with Alma setting out of the door she has intruded upon.
“Is it okay? For you to take all the blame upon yourself?” questioned Troels.
“It’s fine...” replied Magnus.
“The girl might not enjoy the open seas as you do. But damn! she’s as feisty as you are!” Troels jested, trying to liven the mood.
“Humph.” Grunted Magnus, looking somewhat peeved. “It’s her trait, not mine…”
“Pardon me if I say this, but by the look of things, families are a pain, especially for the lives we lead.” Troels scoffed.
“…” Magnus smiled, speaking in a straight-faced manner. “You should try it one of these days, Troels.”
“Ehehehaha!” Laughed Troels brushing the joke aside.
***
In her fit of rage, Alma decided to spend the rest of her time in the enclosure. There, she found herself with what remained from her old home, a plump sheep with its thick wool coat.
“Hey, Panser, you don’t mind if I stay here for the night, do you?” said Alma reassuringly.
Though it was a strange communion at best, the creature reacted by sitting down on all fours, continuing to graze on dry hay. Taking the kind gesture as a yes, Alma rested her head upon its rib. Luckily for her, due to Panser’s overgrown coat, she could only hardly feel the bones against her nape.
“You’ve gained some weight, haven’t you? Panser?” Alma said as she gently caressed the sheep, much like a pet. “Hehe, you better thin yourself out a little, wouldn’t want you to be tomorrow’s dinner!”
“Mbaa!” sounded Panser’s harrowing cry.
Alma giggled at the witty response. ”It was a joke! Silly! Don’t worry, I won’t let them eat you.” she said convincingly. “But hey, life sometimes is unfair, isn’t it Panser?”
The sheep didn’t give her any clear sounds of reply, it merely snorted, as it closed its eyes.
“Ah…. There you go dozing off again… humph.”
Though she found it strange, Alma had always believed the animals could understand her, to an extent. Other than that, perhaps, it might be a habit she had developed being a herder for most of her life till now, though she believed the initial speculation to be more valid than it seemed.
Alma had always cherished all the animals she had, perhaps, it stemmed from her mother's teachings. [If only..., Mother was here with me...] She thought, trying to comfort herself as she delved into a nostalgia trip. With a steady breeze slowly numbing the body, her consciousness began fading as she succumbed into the harsh cold night.
***
Lufenia was the first city ever erected by the sprites of old. Legends say it was there, the fruit of life once dropped unto the land of Ether.
But to Alma, it was a rugged yet beautiful region, a place whom she has grown to love. Over at Lufenia, the first of the sprites, ruled over the land as its protectors.
With the wisdom and strength they possessed, the first pioneered the way for a new era. It was there technological innovations such as farming, currency, and the like began. A social culture cultivated into what they call now as government and order.
It was no wonder that they, the sixth, flocked towards the city, akin to a gleaming light in the center of the world, hoping to receive any stray embers for their own.
Though different and inferior to an extent, the sixth lived in mutualism with the first, exchanging whatever they could with each other, albeit their exchange was imperfect.
For the first had an innate ability pertained to them solely, while the latter had only the numbers in their favor. Years have they lived alongside one another, fulfilling the gaps of what the other could not. Yet, change is an inevitable part of life.
And so their lives changed, as the fog made its eventual return.
Collapsing on the distant lands across Lufenia, the fog seems to converge towards where it once was. And so, they departed in full force to repel it once again, like in the days of old.
News of their victory would be heard several years later upon their return. Though in truth, the fog had remained at the end of the world, its advancement halted but not defeated.
Nevertheless, ever since that fateful day, things started taking a turn for the worse. The first grew a much more violent persona, and such hatred would soon be transformed into discrimination for the sixth.
As the upcoming years proceeded, life has turned unbearable for the sixth, with signs of oppression growing in each passing day.
So they gathered themselves in secret, deciding to sever their ties with the first. Bracing themselves for the long journey ahead, they pooled their resources, as well as steeling their resolve. Using the boats they constructed in secret, they fled their homeland sailing towards the distant seas. With the bright city of Lufenia looming ever further like a distant memory.
If only the pardon of leaving was accessible to all, would they have left no regrets?