[Other Original] Tales and Lore of Gyrah

[Sonata]

I was planning to throw these in at the end of the story I'm currently on, but I think this will work just as good. I'll be doing a story from the world of "Dreams of a Peasant" for each Flash Fiction week.

Flash Fiction Week 5 - Attention​

The tale of the Lar LarWren forest.​

The forest of Lar LarWren was not always as dark and dreary as it is today. Back in the days before magic abandoned this realm and only one great kingdom existed, and even before the phoenix had been betrayed by the man, there stood a grand forest. The woods were home to all types of wildlife. Birds made their homes in the branches, snakes and rodents made their homes in the ground, and for all of the other animals, the forest provided. Unlike the ashy grey color that it now holds, the bark of the trees was once a vibrant hue of many different colors. The forest at once personified liveliness.

In those times, men, women, children and even the elderly could travel safetly through the forest of Lar LarWren. The forest would uproot and move itself to accompany it's visitors, it would give the people shelter from bandits and it would nourish them. The forest had a heart just as any other living thing did. It loved and cared for all living things that would visit and travel through it, and all the things that would visit and travel through the forest loved it as well. But one day all of the animals left the forest and the people stopped visiting and traveling through.

Hundreds of years passed by with not a single living thing coming back to the forest. Man had started to branch out from their one original kingdom, but even though the forest had always been so kind to the people and to all of the other living things which had once came to it and called it home, man for some reason ignored the great forest. And so the forest sat idle for many many more years. The river which had once flown into the wood dried up, colors started to fade from the bark of the trees and the leaves started to fall from their branches.

One day the original kingdom got into a war against the four newly founded kingdoms. The battle was long fought but in the end the original kingdom fell. The town was burned and the castle was pulled to the ground. And from this chaos one family managed to escape, a family of commoners consisting of a father, a mother, two daughters and an infant son. They ran in the only direction that had not been covered by the armies of the other four kingdoms; they ran straight for the forest of Lar LarWren. The forest saw them coming and in its excitement it uprooted itself and moved closer. It extended its branches out towards the family and flowers started to bloom from them, the forest was happy that it had not been forgotten.

The family rushed into the forest and took shelter for the night. The four kingdoms' armies rushed towards the forest to check for stragglers and when the forest saw them coming it uprooted itself once more and extended its branches towards the armies. The armies, having been from a different generation that had never been near the forest were startled to say the least. Where the tree extended its branches, the armies extended swords and torches.

Upon the family seeing the armies the mother screamed and they all started running in the opposite direction. The trees along the way would turn themselves and follow the family while reaching down with it's branches to keep them from leaving. The forest was scared that they would leave and never return just like all the others before. The father stopped and pulled out a short iron sword and slashed at the branches of the trees. And at this moment, the entirety of the forest of Lar LarWren froze.

The bright colors drained nearly instantly from the bark before turning into a dark blood red color. A deep guttural screech came from deep in the forest and the limbs started beating the father until he was a pile of mush on the ground with his family running, the daughters screaming at the top of their lungs while the tree that had dealt the killing blow picked their father up, peeled the bark away from itself and then stuffed him inside of itself. The trees all through the forest uprooted themselves and started heading for both the family and for the armies waiting outside.

The trees bashed and killed the mother and one of the daughters, the other daughter being too fast for the trees to capture even while holding her infant brother managed to escape and founded the fifth and final kingdom that we have today. On the other side of the forest the armies were near instantly engulfed in the trees and devoured, with only the leaders surviving to tell of the horrors of the forest of Lar LarWren.

And so now the forest stands alone, waiting, waiting for anyone or anything to dare venture in it's direction. Few who have gone into the woods since that dark day have made their way out, but the ones who have tell tales of voices coming from inside of the trees. The voices of men, women, children and the elderly begging for help. Begging to be let out or for the travelers to join them.

 

[Bay]

The forest would uproot and move itself to accompany it's visitors, it would give the people shelter from bandits and it would nourish them.

"Its" as "it's" is a contraction of it is.

The trees bashed and killed the mother and one of the daughters, the other daughter being too fast for the trees to capture even while holding her infant brother managed to escape and founded the fifth and final kingdom that we have today.

I feel this sentence is a bit of a run-on and too many things going on at once. Maybe break it down into two sentences like this: The trees bashed and killed the mother and one of the daughters, the other daughter being too fast for the trees to capture even while holding her infant brother. She managed to escape and founded the fifth and final kingdom that we have today.

I really like the dark fantasy lore you have going on here. Gotta love scary forests, haha. The description of the father being killed by the tree/trees I think is well written. I'll admit since I haven't read Dreams of a Peasant yet I don't know too much of Lar LarWren, but I'm considering checking your story out soon. Overall I enjoyed this!

 

[Sonata]

Flash Fiction Week 6 - Garbage

The tale of the crypt of Sen Dyrian​

Many of the stories of the Original City have long since been lost, but some remain. Passed on by word of mouth, these tales have traveled all across the region. These tales are thought to hold magical properties, even in this world where magic no longer exists. Some are thought to be myth and legend, but some of them still hold power even in just their name.

These, are what have been long since locked away in The Vault of Gar Droxos and banished from being spoken of. Should any mortal even mention or think the name of one of these tales, they shall regain their power and bring to this realm an age of chaos and destruction. I bring to you this tale, because it is already too late for these four kingdoms. An even worse demon plagues them now.

Back in the age of magic and when the original kingdom stood, there was a crypt which lived in the middle of the capitol. We say that it lived, because in the times of magic nobody really died. Back then, bodies were kept animated for hundreds of years after their death. Crypts served as resting places during the days, but when night came families of the deceased could enter the crypts and spend time with those that they missed. The bodies were partly thought to be controlled by the magic which flowed from the current king, but the families of the deceased said that they could feel part of their loved ones still living within the corpses.

For thousands of years children were able to see their ancestors had died generations before. Pets were kept alive on the middle levels though not for as long as humans, and it was thought that if the sick journeyed to the lowest levels of the crypt they would be healed of any ailment. A five mile long spiral staircase led to a natural spring on the lowest level, and each floor was home to millions of deceased. For so long, Sen Dyrian was seen as a place of holiness. Priests of varying religions would hold worships on their own respective levels, and the homeless would seek shelter. But as with many of the stories of Gyrah, things would not always be so perfect.

Magic eventually left the realm, and the crypt turned into nothing but a burial ground. After so long, the diggers who would elongate the crypt to make room for more bodies simply could not dig any more. In all directions something blocked the expansion of the tunnels. So the king of that time decided to seal it. Magic no longer existed, and as such there was no need to see the dead anymore. And so he put out the order to seal all entrances to the crypt, and in their place a new entrance was to be created.

Directly above the center of the spiral staircase, a well was made. For over two hundred years all of the dead, the debris from broken homes and the every day trash of the people was thrown down the well. The times of worshiping the dead were long forgotten by the living, but the dead never forget. Angered by not being given proper care and withstanding years of having trash dumped onto them, they waited. They waited and they waited for the right time to take their revenge. The dead became restless, magic had moved on but the souls of those who were buried when it existed remembered. They kept themselves moving, digging through structures of the world above with their rotting limbs.

They made their way to the four new kingdoms, and entered into the dreams of their leaders. They begged and pleaded in the guise of the leaders' loved ones who had passed; and they begged for retribution on the living who had trapped them. After many months of nightmares, the four kingdoms buckled and joined together in an assault. They stormed the original kingdom, burned homes, dismembered and mutilated the living and then threw them into the well. After all had calmed, the fires were outed and the smell of death in the air had gone. The four kings met in the middle of the kingdom and waited at the well.

The moon shone bright and the dead began their ascent. Thousands piled up onto the soulless dead and then made their way out of the well to meet with the four kings. At that spot a decree was made, an agreement between the dead and the living. The dead would not interfere with the affairs of the living, but the living had to enshrine and pay worship and gratitude to the dead. But they threatened that should anyone speak of the happenings of this night, or even speak the name of this deserted place or the crypt which resided in it then a new war would be started in which no one would survive.

For hundreds of years this pact has been honored, the original kingdom as it is now referred to , was left alone, and the story was forgotten by the masses. Through the years the new kings of the four kingdoms were forced to go to the original kingdom to pay respects. But in recent years, their kingdoms have filled up with trash, causing their dumps and crypts to overflow. Every five years they bring with them fifty wagons filled with an amalgamation of bodies and waste, all of which is to be dumped into the well. After dumping, the kings pour oil into the crypt and light it all ablaze. This fire burns, never dying and never losing it's brightness. Every night the screams of millions can be heard all over the country of Gyrah, and the dreams of the kings are filled with nightmares of they themselves burning.

The dead are most definitely angry, but their fear of what haunts the world of the living holds them at bay. With my revelation of this story, I can only hope to have another joining of our forces as we did long ago. Because I fear that should we face this evil alone, all will be lost.

 

[Bay]

We say that it lived, because in the times of magic nobody really died. Back in the time of magic, bodies were kept animated for hundreds of years after their death.

"Times of magic" within same paragraph sounds a bit repetitive. Perhaps replace the second bolded part with "Back then".

They made their way to the four new kingdoms, and entered into the dreams of their leaders. They begged and pleaded in the guise of the leaders' loved ones who had passed; and they begged for retribution on the living who had trapped them. After many months of nightmares, the four kingdoms buckled and joined together in an assault. They stormed the original kingdom, burned homes, dismembered and mutilated the living and then threw them into the well. After all had calmed, the fires were outed and the smell of death in the air had gone. The four kings met in the middle of the kingdom and waited at the well.

The dead sure made a comeback there. Love this part.

This fire burns, never dying and never losing it's brightness.

"Its". Yeah, I keep pointing it out. :x The mention of trash overflowing doesn't sound too good there.

Another good lore you have there! Your take on the prompt is a neat interpretation. Looking forward to what you come up next!

 

[Sonata]

Flash Fiction Week 7 - Promotion
Rite of Crowing​

Long, long ago when the original kingdom split into five, the original king gave each of the new kingdoms' founders an object. He went unto the crypt that lie beneath his city, and took from the first king - Sen Dyrian - parts of his body and wealth. The king allowed this and wished good will upon each of these new founders and blessed each of their respective objects that they might truly be of benefit to their owners. Each of these objects held a different power so to say; they each symbolized a different virtue or attribute that a good king would otherwise be lacking. And so when they held one of these objects in their hands, the relic's power was bestowed unto them.

The first founded, and the eldest son of the original king; Sir Oliad took with him the heart of the first king. With this heart he founded the kingdom of Tarlak, he was loved and supported by the people until his death. Sir Oliad loved and cherished his people too, for his relic held the power of compassion for one's people. Sir Oliad, and all of the kings to follow him each have songs and prayers devoted to them for they were seen as saints and truly great people.

The second founded, and the youngest son of the original king; Prince Karloon took with him the mind of the first king. With this mind he founded the kingdom of Karloon, he was wise beyond his years and led his kingdom to many victories. Prince Karloon was thought to be a genius, and was often mistaken for being a magician due to the great wisdom which the mind of the first king bestowed upon him. Throughout history, tacticians have all traveled to Karloon to take lessons from and to learn the ways of battle from the current king of Karloon.

The third founded, a farmer unrelated to the king; Samuel Lehry took with him the eyes of the first king. With his eyes he founded the kingdom of Torpun on the most fertile of land. For years nothing grew on the land upon which he had chosen to found his new kingdom, and his people had started to revolt. In their anger they killed Samuel and mere days later a fifty-three day rain ensued. The land had irrigated itself, the seeds flown from the ground they had been planted in to more fertile place just down the hill from where they originally sat. The people were overjoyed, but yet felt sorrowful as they realized they had all too hastily killed the man who had brought them salvation. Through the years the kingdom of Torpun has changed into a democracy, any single man fearing to outright take the burden of the eyes, they forced elections and made individuals lead the people against their will. The history of Torpun is the bloodiest of the six kingdoms.

And to the final of the four kingdoms which had split for their father, the king gave an old widowed woman a single piece of gold. The widowed old woman, who's name has long since been forgotten by history set out. It is said she traveled for nearly twenty years, simply flipping the coin and going whichever way it pointed her. One day she simply stopped, and at that stopping point she built a small shack. And soon more people came, they flocked towards this little shack in the middle of nowhere. History forgets what exactly compelled the people to come to her, but simply says that 'they did it because they felt that it was the best thing to do at the time.' This small shack soon grew into the massive kingdom of Gar Droxos, the main capitol of knowledge in the known world, and many believe that the old widowed woman still lives within the city somewhere for the relic has never been passed on, and no king has ever been named in the kingdom of Gar Droxos.

Now history jumps forward to the time of the great war with the original kingdom. The people are dying, the king is sitting on his throne, filled with sorrow for he knows not what to do. A family of peasants come to him and seek help. The king gives them the only thing which he believes he can afford; the tongue of the original king. And so with the tongue in hand, the family fled from the city and headed to the woods of Lar LarWren. Night begins to fall and the mother pulls from her pocket a long piece of thread and bites through the dried and withered tongue. Through the hole she had made she put the thread, and then tied it around her newborn son's neck. The father, mother and one of the two sisters that made up the family were killed, but the newborn son and eldest daughter remained. They lived on, and once the boy learned to talk he would draw crowds. People were entranced, and forced to listen to him speak. And before he had even turned fifteen years old, he had started construction on what would soon become the sixth and final kingdom - Zyndaria.

Finally, the original king sits mummified in his city. Watching for all of eternity with the power of the crystal tear; an object which grants it's beholder the gift of immortality. But in his greed the original king also took another of the seven relics for himself. He holds still to this day, the sword of Sar Silah. The ceremonial sword that was used to knight the original twenty-two, and the sword which is said to have the power to cleave the very earth in two. For so long have these two relics remained in the king's care, none have dared to traverse into the old kingdom for fear of all manner of beast and demon that might roam there.

Now, for a new king to be named they must have a relic of the past bestowed upon them. Thus kingdoms such as Gar Droxos who have since lost their relics will never have a king sit upon their throne. However, the relic that defines the king of a kingdom need not be the one which was passed down to their founder by the original king. Once the current owner of a relic dies, the power of said relic is sealed back within itself. The relic enters a dormant state, in which time should anyone - be it man or woman - touch the relic, the power shall immediately transfer into them and they shall be named king or queen for so long as they shall live.

Should someone so truly desire to become king or queen but yet detest battle, they might go to see the original king and bargain with him. The original king is ageless but still once was he mortal, thus he still has earthly desires. He is a man still as he always was, compassionate and caring for all, even after his betrayal at the hands of his own kin. He does not sour, but instead waits patiently for someone to take from him his power. If one were to get close enough to the original city, they might hear the king's uncontrollable sobbing, even over the screams of the damned which lie deep within the crypt of Sen Dyrian.

"Let all who hear this know, life is not the ultimate invention. Death. Death is the ultimate invention. Should you ever feel tired, loathe, or wish upon yourself to no longer live, I urge you to act on your ideals. No life, is as sweet as death. Death, is the ultimate reward. Whether you were farmer or king in this life, in the next you shall all be gods in your own right."
- Eternal King Dyrian, the splitting of the kingdom​

 

[Bay]

And so with the tongue in hand, the family fled from the city and headed to the woods of Lar LarWren. Night begins to fall and the mother pulls from her pocket a long piece of thread and bites through the dried and withered tongue. Through the hole she had made she put the thread, and then tied it around her newborn son's neck. The father, mother and one of the two sisters that made up the family were killed, but the newborn son and eldest daughter remained.

I like the reference of the family from the first tale here.

Watching for all of eternity with the power of the crystal tear; an object which grants it's beholder the gift of immortality.

"Its". *whistles*

I think you did good with the promotion prompt! I like the idea of relics being passed down and that they're different from the typical vase, jewels, cups, and such. The story of Toprun kingdom is indeed pretty tragic. Nice work there!

 

[Sonata]

I like the reference of the family from the first tale here.



"Its". *whistles*

I think you did good with the promotion prompt! I like the idea of relics being passed down and that they're different from the typical vase, jewels, cups, and such. The story of Toprun kingdom is indeed pretty tragic. Nice work there!

I'm glad you like it! At first the It/'s was my own fault, but now I think it's just auto-correct being stupid. These flash fictions are doing more for my story than I thought. I'm actually just waiting for the right prompt to come up and I think I'll finally be able to post an update on DoaP.

 

[Sonata]

Flash Fiction #8 - Careless
The Mother​

In the beginning The Mother existed alone. She simply was, and it is understood and accepted that she still is. The Mother began as a sole entity, she held together within herself, all of the things that make life as we know it today. She is omniscient and she is omnipotent. She is the beginning of all things as well as the end that all will return to. For an immeasurable amount of time she existed. Formless and simply pure energy, she lived and waited for her loneliness and boredom to overpower her will. When this time came, she put into motion the beginning of all things as well as the end.

She started the world by ripping from herself Forms. Forms left her, and gave shape to all that we have in this world and the next. The Mother took on the shape of a human and began molding the planets and the stars. She created our two planet system and deemed it was acceptable.

She continued this world by ripping from herself Soul. Soul left her, and gave life to all things. The Mother molded a ten thousand armed colossus for Soul to live in, and so it was. Soul set to motion on creating the loom which it would go on through time to weave itself into. And so The Mother deemed it was acceptable.

She moved on with the creation of this world by tearing from herself Time. At this point, man and woman came into existence; their names were Arasa - the first man, and Janeda - the first woman. Though they were what would define time, they lacked the intelligence to do so. But never wavering in her work, The Mother deemed it acceptable and moved on to the next step in her plans.

At this point The Mother tore from herself Life. The Mother's body withered, greyed and turned old, but in return for her sacrifice color and emotion was brought into the world. The birds were given songs, Arasa and Janeda were given voices, and all was well. The Mother looked upon this and smiled.

Nearing the end of her endeavor, The Mother tore from herself Intelligence. She reached down onto the planet which she had put the man and woman on, and touched her finger against the surface. Where her finger touched, a crater was made and there formed The Pond Of Reflection. When the man and woman gazed at their reflections in the water they were bestowed with the omniscient powers of their creator. The Mother looked upon this and smiled, deeming all was well.

Now at the end of her task, The Mother tore from herself Magic. Magic was what gave her the power to do all of these grand feats, and with the removal of magic from herself she lost all powers and became a normal being just like the man and woman. Powerless and frail as she was, the world sheltered her from her own creations. Magic split itself into the magical beings of old, and the tiniest of slivers of that power was captured by the man and the woman. It was ingested and harvested.

The Mother looked upon all that she had created and smiled, before closing her eyes for thousands of years. When she finally awoke, her memories had faded and what remained contradicted what she saw. She looked upon the earth which used to be warm and green, and instead saw cold and grey woods, the ground blackened with fire and the sky clouded with smoke. All was not as she had intended; she had been careless and now the people she had so loved in the beginning were to pay the price.

The Mother wandered through the wood near to her, the trees bowed and the branches caressed her. They moved themselves and set a path for The Mother to walk. In her ignorance she followed until she was to The Pond Of Reflection. There she met an old man who walked out from within a tree and greeted her.

"Welcome." He bowed, "The pond has long awaited your return. Gaze upon it, and regain yourself my mother."

The man disappeared into the ground and The Mother gazed into the pool of water. And in the water she simply saw herself. The herself within the pond reached out towards her and she met it's hand with her own; in touching the surface of the water and setting out ripples which escaped the water and traveled through the ground, all the way to the original kingdom. The ripples made a sound which rang through her mind like bells chiming, and with each chime a new memory was unlocked. The bells rang, and she sat entranced by her own creations for sixty-four days.

-This tale has been altered by The Mother from this point on. This story comes from her own personal collection in Gar Droxos-

Once The Mother came to, she thanked the one who had greeted her, and she set off to put into motion the end of creation. For hundreds of years she lived in a small cottage on the outskirts of the original kingdom, she waited for the time to come. And soon it did. The king called forth the people of his kingdom and asked for volunteers to set out from his bosom and search for fertile lands outside of their kingdom. Two of the king's eight sons volunteered, followed by a farmer who had fallen on hard times and then finally The Mother stepped up. The people knew her as simply an old nameless widow. She would pass her time by walking through town and giving coin and food to the young and the less fortunate, so to pay her back for all she had done the king had intended to give her the reign over his own country.

The Mother denied this courtesy, but instead requested a single gold coin from the hoard of Sen Dyrian. The original king agreed, and blessed the coin that it may lead to the future. The Mother greatfully accepted, and took to flipping the coin. The wind would blow the coin from her, and she would follow. For years she followed the coin. Families stopped to offer help to her, but she denied and instead gave them offerings for their kindness.

She wandered carelessly, starving and driving herself to dehydration. She knew that the coin would stop before she passed on, but the things which she had released into this world started to get the better of her. Emotions rose within her that she had never felt before, she was fearing death and with that came recklessness. Instead of allowing fate to take her where she needed to be, she forced the coin to stop in the middle of the desert. She began building a small house next to an oasis, and as the years went by people began coming to her. Familiar faces both from her travels on the road and from the original kingdom. Soon the kingdom of Gar Droxos was built around her. She buried herself between towering buildings and faded into myth.

-The Mother's telling of the end-

When the end of this world draws near there shall be a great war. Beast and man will fight together, brother will turn against brother and sister against sister. The myths and legends of old will rise from their slumber and all eight kingdoms shall meet at the original kingdom. Sen Dyrian and all of the damned who suffer the burden of immortality shall rise from their pit and Janeda shall weave great storms of all elements across the lands.

The Oakfather will bring his corrupted wood and crush the lesser beings, Forms will come forth and bring his eight children to repave the earth. Soul will cut the Loom of Life and release all of the souls in the world and Life - with his army of Golden knights - shall seal away the magic that the mortals have tried to harness through their technological advances. And finally from the pool of reflections will come beings from other dimensions: demons, angels, gods, zombies, aliens, Eldrazi, Scauit, Rishae and many other abominations. The shadows of man and beast alike will turn against their owners. The world shall be turned into a battlefield which will rip holes in the fabric of space and time. The other Creators shall look in on disgust as rejects from their own utopias flee to the disaster that I have created.

All of the things which I have removed from myself shall rejoin my body, starting with magic and ending with forms. Every being, be it living, dead, or not of this realm shall be taken in by me to quench the insatiable jaws of destiny - the one that still eludes my grasp. And once the end has been realized I shall set about recreating this world. I will hope not to fail, and will pass down to the people of the new world I create, a history of this world which I have so carelessly thrown together so that they may learn from the mistakes of their ancestors both mortal and immortal.

 

[Bay]

I'm glad you like it! At first the It/'s was my own fault, but now I think it's just auto-correct being stupid. These flash fictions are doing more for my story than I thought. I'm actually just waiting for the right prompt to come up and I think I'll finally be able to post an update on DoaP.

Ah, yeah sometimes auto correct can be weird like that, lol. If that's the case, I would proofread my story before posting then, or at least catch the "its" and "it's" by yourself. And glad to hear the flash fictions are helping you with your writing! :) Okay, onto your next lore!

The Mother looked upon all that she had created and smiled, before closing her eyes for thousands of years. When she finally awoke, her memories had faded and what remained contradicted what she saw. She looked upon the earth which used to be warm and green, and instead saw cold and grey woods, the ground blackened with fire and the sky clouded with smoke. All was not as she had intended; she had been careless and now the people she had so loved in the beginning were to pay the price.

Well, something you don't want to see after being asleep for that long.

She wandered carelessly, starving and driving herself to dehydration. She knew that the coin would stop before she passed on, but the things which she had released into this world started to get the better of her. Emotions rose within her that she had never felt before, she was fearing death and with that came recklessness. Instead of allowing fate to take her where she needed to be, she forced the coin to stop in the middle of the desert. She began building a small house next to an oasis, and as the years went by people began coming to her. Familiar faces both from her travels on the road and from the original kingdom. Soon the kingdom of Gar Droxos was built around her. She buried herself between towering buildings and faded into myth.

When I read this part, I was like this sounded familiar. I then remember it was from the last lore with the mention of how Gar Droxos was created. I do like how you reference past lores into the latest ones you written.

I do like the imagery you give whenever you mention the Mother tearing herself from various aspects (Form, Soul, Intelligence, etc.) The way Mother has been creating this world can be interpret as her doing that carelessly and it works. Another enjoyable piece there!

 

[Sonata]

I have been negligent. Forgive me. I'll get this one up and then think about going back and doing some of the others that I've missed. I think I actually have some direction now with the main story now that I've given it some thought so I'll be focusing on that and trying to get it out of the way though.

Flash Fiction #20 - Together

Original Soul​

As the story goes, The Mother first removed from herself Forms, and then shortly thereafter ripped from herself Soul. Before she took from herself Soul, together with the aid of Forms The Mother forged a stone colossus with ten thousand arms that towered over every mountain. The colossus was named Mipam and then Soul was sealed into its body. Doomed to a life of enslavement to the will of The Mother, Mipam set to creating a great loom on the surface of the planet.

The Mother lessened the burden of creation on herself and removed from herself all of her responsibilities to let roam free in this world. But those made by her own hand, were inevitably bound by her own hand. Whereas with humankind which came into being as a property of an aspect removed from herself, Mipam had been molded by her hands and made to house the Soul for the people which would inevitably be conceived by her actions. The colossus' duty was simple; make the loom of life and weave himself into it for all of time. A needle was pulled through its chest, and with that one needle it started in on its work.

It began with the first two humans - Arasa and Janeda. Mipam pulled its body into the loom and weaved two small pieces of its soul into the two new bodies. Without part of Soul within each living thing, Life could not take place. A soul is but what gives something the ability to live; Life gives it personality and desires, a will to pursue and the ability to achieve. With each birth of a new human or animal Mipam was to sew its own body into the loom. With each death it pulled the needle back through its body and with it the Soul of the deceased along with any memories or emotions that it had experienced throughout its life. Because Mipam has never glanced into the Pond of Reflection, it has remained in ignorance. Only through the process of bringing the souls of the deceased back into itself and gaining their memories and emotions of life does it learn and develop its own Life. Life in this world is ever increasing.

The Mother and Soul share two very similar roles in life. The Mother is both the beginning and the end of life, and Soul is also both the beginning and end of life. Each time a person or animal dies and returns its soul to Mipam it is given absolution. Whether the body which housed that piece of Soul had committed crimes, was the epitome of holiness, lived a dreary life or anything in between it was given a single chance to look over the events that occurred over its time on Earth. This is referred to as The Requiem. Greeted with apparitions of their loved ones left behind and visions of their actions in life, the souls of the dead are given a chance to say goodbye. Though this time is short, for both the deceased and the still living this time is a godsend.

It is customary for those that are left behind after the death of a loved one to attempt to rest. Rest is the most accepted form of mourning at this time and it has come to be accepted that though you should pay respects to the bodies of the deceased and preserve them as well as possible, sleeping as soon as possible following their death is the greatest peace you can give to one and other. If you sleep close enough to their time of death, then you will find yourself able to have final interactions with the recently departed. Though many people and animals alike die every day, visions of the living and deceased are sorted through and organized by Mipam. If you never knew someone during life then you would not meet them in death. Strong emotions are what connect this life with the next. If you harbored great hatred for someone then you might see them after they or you die though the connection would not be as strong. Whereas if you loved someone with all of your being then they would appear in a much more physical state and Mipam would allow for more time in these interactions. In recent times there has been rumors that visions of the deceased can be seen even long after their passing however this has been filed away as simply wishful hoping on the part of broken widows.

Over recent years Mipam has gained a large following. Many have begun to worship it as the True God and blaspheme The Mother as merely an instigator of the creation of this world. The following believes that through the worship of Mipam eternal peace can be obtained. Though this has some truth, the practitioners of this religion have no proof of their beliefs. There has been no holy text or even communication with Mipam outside of death as of yet, so many believe this new following a cult and have scared many of its followers out of their homes and sometimes even as far as out of their own kingdoms.

 

[Bay]

The stuff concerning Mipam is very cool! I like how she creates humans by sewing. Also nice mention of differences of life (personality), and soul (gives ability for life). "The Requiem" is neat too, having the souls say their farewells. Quite like this lore a lot!

 

[Sonata]

Flash Fiction #16 - Masks
The Seven Faced​

There are many things about The Seven Faced that remain unknown. Where did it come from? Exactly how long has it been around? What are its true goals? Its motives? Why does it do what it does? What actually is The Seven Faced?

On the surface, The Seven Faced is a grouping of several different personalities that speak through seperate masks. Six of the masks depicts a different emotion; sadness, anger, joy, fear, surprise and disgust. The seventh mask is blank; it has eyes and nose, but there is no mouth nor are there any wrinkles to suggest a defining emotion. Each of the six masks which depict emotions are connected to each other in a circular formation while the seventh mask rests atop the other six. The masks appear to be sewn to a thin black cloth which forms a cloak, however those who have been visited by The Seven have reported that in fact there is no cloak and it is said that this cloth is actually a manifestation of death. Upon touching the cloak, each witness immediately fell ill and then mere minutes later passed away.

Throughout history, whenever someone or something has been confroted by The Seven it will speak simultaneously, or in turns by beginning or finishing each others' sentences. The seventh mask has never been shown to interact, but instead simply stares towards the sky with glossed over eyes. A few adventurous researchers have attempted to stimulate a reaction by dropping various things onto the mask or into its eyes. Months after their experiments, the researchers returned to their respective kingdoms having no recollection of ever having set off on such an expedition.

It moves in the shortest possible straight path towards its next target. Neither forces of nature nor changes in terrain have been shown to have any effect over it either. Though it does appear to prefer moving on land, whenever a mountain or large body of water is in its path it simply raises off of the ground and floats over it. It doesn't seem to have a physical form, however the cloak on ocassion has been witnessed to take on several different 'forms' which causes the masks to rearrange themselves. Despite this, The Seven Faced always returns to its base form.

There have been sightings of The Seven Faced dating as far back as the reign of King Sen Dyrian; which is where the confusion about The Seven's goals and motives begins. The Seven Faced has depicted itself as a merchant of sorts. It doesn't choose sides, but instead goes to offer its services to each who will have it. It has stated that for an undisclosed price it can gives its clients gifts that will prove vital to them in some way. Sen Dyrian was the first of its victims. The King wished that he would be loved and cherished by his subjects for eternity and that history would forever remember him. The Seven eagerly accepted his request and granted him his place in history and the worship he so desired. Sen Dyrian received a mountain of wealth along with a multitude of artifacts that were to greatly increase both his power and cement place in history. One of the gifts that were given to him was a crypt. A hole was torn in the city, and a great labyrinth of a burial grounds opened up beneath the kingdom. Dyrian, his family and all citizens of his kingdom were to be buried in this place upon their death. So long as they remained buried here, their souls were to remain bonded to their bodies. This was the price that the king was to pay for his wish.

Hundreds of years passed before The Seven Faced was ever seen again. And when he was, it was in the most unexpected of places. In the slums of the kingdom of Sen Dyrian, an orphaned boy wept. His mother had recently been killed in the middle of the streets but nobody stopped or called for help. The city moved on while the boy wept, and the cloaked figure of The Seven kneeled over to console the boy. The Seven asked the boy what is was that he desired. It stated that the boy's mother was beyond saving, but it could offer to him any other thing he desired. The boy wiped his eyes and stared up into the eyes of one of the masks. He shook his head and said that if it could not give him back his mother then he had no more wish. The boy rose to his feet, grabbed the limp arm of his mother's body and began to drag her back to where they had been living. For the next twenty years The Seven took care of the boy in place of the deceased mother. It said to him that until he knew what his wish was to be it would stay by his side. The boy asked why it would not leave him alone when he had no wish to be granted. The Seven stared at him with the mask that depicted joy. It said to him that he would be important some day, but that he had to find that future on his own. And until that day came, he would stay with the boy.

The boy did not understand, but went along with it. For twenty years they lived together. The boy would go out during the day, and The Seven would wait in the same seat all day and every night. It would simply watch the boy and all that he did. Finally, one day something changed in the boy. He returned to the house late at night with cuts and bruises covering his body. The clothes had been stripped from his back and degrading words were written onto his body with blood. He opened the door to the house that he had been sharing with The Seven for all those years and then fell onto the floor. He broke down and began screaming while slamming his fists against the floor. The Seven rose from the seat for the first time since entering the home and spoke to the boy. The time had come, and he asked the boy what his wish was.

The boy looked up into the empty eyes of sadness. He wiped the tears from his eyes and spoke to his guardian. After hearing the boy's request, The Seven headed to the door and then stopped. It turned its smile towards him and said that his wish had been granted, but that one day he would be requested to go on a quest that he was destined to fail. However he could not refuse the request for that was his price to pay. Thus was born the legendary Sven Dykalaquis.

Several other times throughout history The Seven Faced has been recorded visiting people and places of great power. It has - on several ocassions - been recorded visiting the head librarian of Gar Droxos, the Lar LarWren Forest, Mount Aerori, Sen Dyrian's Crypt, Sven Dykalaquis, Poryol, Rmviebrum and Torpun among others. In recent history it has preferred visiting those of lesser standing for unknown reasons. Those close to death or just newly born have also been known to be constant visits. The Seven has been know to give small gifts or charms to newborns without making a deal, while also having a disdain for the elderly and seeking any way to cut their lives short.

 

[Bay]

The seventh mask is blank; it has eyes and nose, but there is no mouth nor are there any wrinkles to suggest a defining emotion.

Even though both Dreams of a Peasant and the lores here are linked, I'm reminded of what happened last chapter (still can't get over it, haha).

Throughout history, whenever someone or something has been confroted by The Seven it will speak simultaneously, or in turns by beginning or finishing each others' sentences. The seventh mask has never been shown to interact, but instead simply stares towards the sky with glossed over eyes. A few adventurous researchers have attempted to stimulate a reaction by dropping various things onto the mask or into its eyes. Months after their experiments, the researchers returned to their respective kingdoms having no recollection of ever having set off on such an expedition.

"Confronted", I think you meant. Otherwise, must be very interesting experimentations there (even if the researchers don't remember it later on).

The boy rose to his feet, grabbed the limp arm of his mother's body and began to drag her back to where they had been living.

Pretty sad image there.:< The Seven taking care of the boy later on sounds neat, though.

n recent history it has preferred visiting those of lesser standing for unknown reasons. Those close to death or just newly born have also been known to be constant visits. The Seven has been know to give small gifts or charms to newborns without making a deal, while also having a disdain for the elderly and seeking any way to cut their lives short.

Pretty strange indeed. Another enjoyable piece there!