"The Tree of Origin"

"The Tree of Dreams"

"The Tree of Life"

That is how a force beyond mortal understanding is known, something that exists only if you believe it does. For many, it is nothing more than a fantasy, an absurd and nonexistent idea. But for those who dream, create, and live in worlds beyond their own, it is a reality. You may think I speak to you only through words and imagination, but I want you to understand that all of this is real. Stories, tales, dreams, and hallucinations are real for those who believe in them. That is the Tree of Origin, something that connects everything and everyone.

Do you know the heroes? Or the villains? You know their stories and everything they endured to achieve their goals. Perhaps you think they are only dreams born of other minds, something invented to entertain. However, I believe that all stories are born from the leaves of the Tree, connecting to each other through its branches. I understand. I, too, felt frustrated when a story ended, when the hero's journey faded with the writer's final period, the artist's last panel, the narrator's last word...

I know it’s sad, and it leaves a void that, sooner or later, will be filled by another story.

But what I’m telling you is nothing more than an adventure among many, the path of a protagonist. Simple, right? It doesn’t matter. If you want to, listen to me. Yes, listen, because you are not reading me—you are hearing me. Focus, and you will hear my voice.

This story takes us back to the guardians of dreams, those who watch over every world and every tale.

Magic, dragons, fairies, and so much more... It may sound repetitive, but that’s the kind of world you dream of. However, there exists a story that was corrupted. One in which all souls suffered for thousands of years due to the mistake of a guardian. A place where all the cruelty and wickedness a mortal is capable of became reality, where the very guardians, once called gods, were corrupted by a crimson light...

This is but another story, born from the branches of the Origin, where dreams and nightmares intertwine, creating a new adventure longing to be told.

A crimson glow illuminated the sky of the world. Several races watched as the fall of what would mark the end of their peaceful days descended. The oldest stories tell of a great crater formed by the falling star, causing everything around it to begin dying. The green earth turned dark and withered, animals fled in terror, and the surrounding land was consumed entirely. Soon, word reached the ears of various kings, who began sending adventurers with promises of wealth and prestige. There was no greater lie, for none of the hundreds of innocent souls ever returned. It is said that, weary of so many losses, one of the kings decided to set out on a journey to find the origin of the evil that loomed.

Death and darkness was what he found. Everything had been consumed; the sky was shrouded in black clouds that dimmed the sunlight, the ground covered in a blanket of dead grass and ash. Within the ruins of what had been devoured, monsters roamed—creatures without form or reason, and what were once animals, now turned into aberrations of darkness. The king and his army ventured into that forsaken land, evading the creatures, and with great sacrifice, they managed to reach the crater, from whose depths emanated a crimson light. After that, there were no more records. It is only known that, out of an army of hundreds, only a single soldier returned, bearing the king's crown and sword.

That soldier sounded the alarm in his kingdom and many others. Thus, the darkness continued to spread, consuming everything in its path, alerting not only humans but countless other races and peoples of the evil that crept forward, intent on killing all life.

Many races united to attempt to halt the advance of that darkness. The lands of countless kingdoms were quickly swallowed; leaders ordered their people to flee as far as possible and warn others of the coming threat. And so they did. Soon, almost all races unified against a common enemy.

Entire armies were sent to fight the creatures that emerged from their accursed lands. Years passed, yet this war showed no end in sight. No strategy could stop the advancing scourge, and entire battalions were eradicated before they could even approach the crater. Mighty kingdoms offered refuge to those who had lost everything, but resources were not infinite. Soon, famine struck; towns and cities begged their leaders for scraps of bread and meat. It was no surprise that humans were the first to fall to cannibalism... All seemed lost for half of the living beings that remained.

But one day, hope descended from the heavens, embodied in a race of legend—a species that existed only in ancient myths and religious tales. As soon as these beings of light set foot upon the earth, it began to regain its color and life. The dark creatures fled in terror, and kingdoms and peoples saw in these saviors the light of salvation. Slowly, the world returned to its former glory, and the war came to an end; the crimson light had been extinguished.

Years passed, and the world lived in peace. Kings and leaders were noble of heart, guided by those now known as gods. Nations prospered and sang hymns of jubilation to their saviors. However, not all races fully trusted these gods, and many chose to distance themselves from them. How right they were...

The crater where the crimson light had once fallen began to expand once more. The descendants of those who had survived that hell sounded the alarm, warning of what was happening. Panic spread among the people who now lived in peace. Soon, fourteen gods decided to descend and eliminate the crimson light, leaving the kings and a single god to oversee the world. Months passed, and there was no news of the light's continued spread. Kings and leaders began to fear that their gods had abandoned them. But the gods had never left... And yet, on the day they returned, the world bore witness to the incarnation of darkness.

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Entire nations were reduced to fire and rubble; streets became graveyards of corpses and rivers of blood. What were once their gods had returned, transformed into their worst nightmares, and the world trembled on the brink of extinction.

All nations and races mobilized against this new threat. Armies prepared to face the gods, who now struck them down in cold blood. Soon, the remaining nations united their forces to fight against their former saviors, a desperate attempt to prevent life itself from being eradicated. The world seemed once more on the verge of annihilation, and all hope fell upon the shoulders of the only goddess who remained—the one who had not abandoned her children, seen by many as a noble and pure-hearted young woman.

With only a few nations still standing, all of them resolved to protect their goddess. Hundreds of armies gathered to defend their people and the deity, and hundreds of mages and creatures capable of wielding magic congregated at her side. No one knew what the young goddess planned, but neither did they doubt her resolve.

All the kings and leaders gave the order not to retreat before the creatures. The gods, now called the Fallen, were the greatest of threats—even the demons feared approaching them... However, while protecting their people and their goddess, all the armies received their final command.

—"Give your all in this battle! Do not let the Fallen reach our goddess!"

The cries of men and women echoed through the skies. With a roar of bravery and honor, they advanced toward certain death. The fear of dying never disappeared within them, but neither did their loyalty to the goddess. The battlefield, or what had once been the most prosperous kingdom, became a lake of blood and death. All to give the goddess the time she needed to do what had to be done.

When all seemed lost, a light descended in the midst of all the mages who gave their lives for the salvation of their world. Soon, all those mages fell lifeless to the ground, but among them rose four silhouettes surrounding their goddess. These silhouettes would come to be known as the heroes; Hope, Valor, Life, and Light were what each of them represented. Having done this, the light of a pure soul began to fade.

The goddess fell to her knees before the heroes, pleading for their help against this evil. They looked at her as children to their mother, nodded, and threw themselves into the battle against the Fallen. Stories say that the fight made the earth tremble due to the immeasurable power of these heroes. Many of the Fallen fled beyond the sea. The races shouted the name of the goddess and the heroes. Joy and celebration filled the hundreds of thousands of soldiers and civilians who had taken refuge from the monsters. The evil had vanished, and the lands that seemed lost could now be reclaimed. All thanks to their goddess.

The kings rushed to aid their goddess. Great was their surprise to see her so weak and without her light. They pleaded through tears for her not to leave them, that they could do nothing without her. The goddess looked at them with kindness and sweetness, and before dying, she spoke her final words, which would be remembered by the kings and those who bore her mark.

—"Do not despair, do not weep nor grieve, for your goddess has protected and loved you... Go and rebuild the world you fought so hard to defend, my children..." —these were her last words before she turned into a statue of stone.

The legends of that event recount and distort what occurred, but it was never known if those were truly the goddess’s words. All that is certain is that after that, all the kings and leaders guided their people to rebuild the world their goddess had given them. On the other hand, no one knows what happened to the heroes. Did they die? Or did they lead ordinary lives? No one knows.

The world flourished once again, and the races lived in harmony, always remembering the sacrifice of their goddess and the bravery of the heroes who had saved them. Thus, in the annals of history, the memory of the final battle and the light that once guided the races to hope and redemption was preserved... But not everything was so rosy.

Time is cruel and unjust, and the sacrifice of a goddess was not enough to change the vile mortal heart. All the races that once fought together returned to how they had been hundreds of years before. Prejudice and fear resurfaced, and the world lost its goddess and, over time, also the heroes. This caused greed for power and wealth to rise once more, and everything fell apart. Perhaps the evil of the crater had disappeared, but not the fallen hearts that allowed themselves to be deceived by that crimson light.

Five thousand years passed, and the Fallen reclaimed the land under the guise of "protective deities," thus deceiving the mortals. The world returned to its origins: senseless wars, abuse, and discrimination. Humans and the most populous races ruled once more. Everything that had once been fought for now seemed to have been in vain.

However, hope still remained for this world, for somewhere, whether on land or sea, there lay the statue of a goddess waiting to be freed.

Ancient texts spoke of a statue in the middle of a field of flowers, where the goddess who had once saved the world lay. Turned to stone, her essence waited patiently, invisible to mortal eyes. Her sacrifices had not been entirely forgotten; there were still those who whispered her name in secret, who remembered the times when all the races fought together under her light.

Prophecies foretold that one day, when the world was plunged into its deepest darkness, someone worthy would find the path to the statue and awaken the goddess. The heroes who once answered her call were also destined to return. The stars, the winds, and the waves whispered of the return of an era of hope and unity.

In the darkest cave or atop the highest mountain, in the depths of the ocean or the densest forests, someone would find the goddess. And then, the world would know again the power of true light, a light that even the Fallen could not extinguish.

Thus, though the world seemed to have forgotten, hope was never fully extinguished. In the whispers of the wind and the rustling of leaves, the name of the goddess could still be heard, the eternal guardian of hope.

Also known as...

The Sleeping Light.

La Luz Durmiente [https://img.wattpad.com/8a9c1d16e395439703d73d1c8b4276cdd0c58093/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f703261656a37745444386d5761773d3d2d313436303233363738302e313765643266373936366530323263333334383639383239393733312e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]