Prologue - Lives Never Lived

the Tomb that rests

beneath night’s veil,

light weaves reel

in darkness due,

to call upon-

whether false or

true- watch, witness,

Judge, those restless,

Tumbling, Falling

into their Tomb,

that rests within

the hands of;

You.

-The Undying Sage

E. Meaningless

In an Unknown Era:

Fellcress—

Darkness cupped the milky glow before its radiance shattered; like fallen glass upon dark canvas, light spilled out and doused the world. Fallen bright, angle-white enlightened the grim, lifeless world —long-severed from such a pompous sheen. Light waves rippled across the solemn, black void; of nothingness that oppressed, dried, and fractured; the bleak, dying world.

Despite the light, no one remained; to witness this somber, heartbreaking scene. Majestic mountain peaks —once climbed so tall and mighty in proud defiance of the heavens high— now lay wounded, strewn with craters. Lush, thriving continents —once allied against corrosive ocean tides and the briny breath they breathed— now rest countless barren islets, cracked and crumbled with time, divided.

Sometime, somewhere, within that endless expanse of cold rubble bumps and bulges, a luminous glow gleamed over— like a fish in murky water, swimming patiently, searching blindly. For what? It did not know.

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Nor did it care, for it was merely light. It had no time nor conscious mind. Only a drifting will to search and find. In line with its master’s wishes.

An array of ethereal beams probed along the dull, dreary grounds, instinctively omitting one vast, chaotic fissure. Light waves flashed and flickered as the void squeezed thinner and thinner, yet its luminescence never faltered out of trepidation; on the contrary, its persistent will deepened as it faced extinction. Hence, the spiritual pursuit of an unknown nature continued far and wide, high but never low, until only the ominous abysmal depths survived uncompromised. Then, thinner yet, fearless still, the wisp of light ran out of land to scour and, with it, options.

Deep inside the depthless chasm, where the denticulate teeth of darkness sank deepest, the Abyss beckoned with unknown secrets. A split-wide world lost to time, where divine vestiges survived—beneath cracked soil, undying.

Cowardice conceals what courage reveals; its master told in a bygone era.

Within a sudden flash amidst the inky darkness, an ethereal spool reeled forth a pure-white oasis; light, vibrant streams carved a path down the rugged serpentine spine of chaos. The sinuous trail slashed and wound way-on down, a mad dash into cessation.

In the wake of exuberant light pulses, throbbing reverberations filled the world. Near the chasm, these steady sound waves unwound into irregular tones that bent and strained, in baffling ways, around the Abyss; to escape the danger that lay in wait.

After a moment’s pause, the wisp invoked the innate will it's master ingrained; resisting fear with unwavering determination, it sank on down into the oppressive sable shroud of silence. Residual energy gradually churned, igniting a final search.

All was swallowed by the Abyss, even the world, one day. To enter its jaws was suicide, but what was death before failure? Was there even a difference? The wisp did not know, for it was merely light, albeit its master’s light. And with a master so renowned and noble as it’s, why should it stress such nasty darkness? It should not; it could not feel frightened.

Moments later, a breathtaking drop of milky white trickled down the horrid pitch-black canvas— fearless in every way.

Light and life, sound and touch, even time and perception, the Abyss digested all. Thinner and thinner, the light dimmed and flickered, descending blind into the silent depths; it fell until it shimmered with a familiar shiver, drawn by its master’s will, attracted towards what it sought. A remnant will, faint but distinct, the glistening wisp followed.

Defying gravity as it zigged and zagged down the winding path, the gallant wisp mounted chaotic black miasma clouds—like night riders perched upon their shadowy steeds. Row after row of time-worn caverns, enclosed by crumbled black masonry, embellished the otherwise drab stone wall. Further, gliding through the biting jet-black expanse, the newfound hope its master sowed proved imperishable.

Years passed, or perhaps another moment flashed when the iridescent wisp reached a cave yet defined by inevitable decay. There was a sense that this deepest burrow of the Abyss stood untouched, in eternal wait of a visitor that never showed. Things here seemed frozen in the past when life still thrived—a stark contrast against the wasting world.

Patterned lines etched into the stained black stone remained as sharp as ever. Where a rusted nail once protruded out to hang a framed picture or mirror, a withered branch snaked through. As it was, much like the world, one breath remained. Enough to hold a book that read in purple letters carved. Illusion.

The magnetic will drew the wisp towards the purple light. White and purple intertwined, the book opened, and rumbling bells tolled. Loud and wide across the world, intangible words inscribed joyful whines. Its master would return.

The book flipped back onto its cover, now shining milky white. Eternal.

The dying world spun in silent defiance. Starless, it braved the void. Sunless, its hapless persistence. Slowly spindling, it was falling. Still, in a dream, it existed.