legofyggdrasil

[legofyggdrasil]

The Faithful

This is the fourth short story in in a series that I've posted. Please read them in release order. This is an original work of art. I do not consent to its use in AI training.

"Today is the day…" thought Ezra said as he sat in his chambers.

It had been a few weeks since they announced his ascension, and Ezra had been anxious ever since. He slept poorly, barely ate, couldn't keep up with his monastic chores. No one was coming down on him for the latter though, since his ascension was close.

Ezra sat in anxious thought as the past few weeks flashed before his eyes.

In his memory, he recalled the Priestess walk down a flight of stairs into the dining hall where him and his brothers were eating their morning meal. It was rare he saw a woman living the monastic life, let alone a woman of high standing as a Priestess of the Maiden.

The Priestess' eyes explored around the room in search of the next in line. Her eyes met Ezra's and his heart nearly stopped. For that moment, Ezra was completely vulnerable as if someone had torn away all of his defenses and left him as he was when he was first born. The Priestess smiled and walked towards Ezra.

"Would you accept this token of my favor?" the Priestess said to Ezra, holding out her hand with a handkerchief in it towards him.

The room was in cold silence. Many were as enraptured with the Priestess as Ezra was, others were in shock that someone as young as him would be the one.

Ezra, not thinking, held out his hand and took the handkerchief. The Priestess bowed to Ezra and took her leave. Everyone stared in silence, Ezra still in shock with the reality of his situation.

The following weeks everyone around him started acting differently. The older monks were a bit envious for they had spent their whole lives in worship of the Maiden without being chosen. The younger ones admired Ezra and started modeling themselves after him, with big dreams that they too can serve the Maiden. Ezra was like an eye of the storm, a calm that remained while everyone around him was swept one way or another.

The door creaked open, and Ezra's mind returned to the moment. The head Bishop entered, looking joyful at Ezra.

"My boy, it is time. What a glorious day!" said the Bishop as he held out his arms, gesturing to Ezra to the ritual chambers.

The walk was a quiet one, as the rest of the Monks were still in their rooms. Many still drunk from the past week's celebration of what was to happen.

Ezra entered the ritual chamber. The chamber was normally a simple one, a long hall with pews facing the front of the room. The front, a podium lit by the light of the sun cast through beautiful stained glass that told tales of the Maiden's gifts.

This day was different, as the room was adorned with many more flowers of white. The scent of incense wafted through the hall, a scent that Ezra could not identify. At the head of the hall were three people. On his left, the Priestess whom had chosen him. She was adorned with more jewels than before, and a dress of the finest silks. On the right side was the Bishop, whom had taken his place while Ezra froze, taking in the sights of the ritual chamber.

The center, right where the podium usually was someone he hadn't seen before. It was a woman with beautiful golden locks, but her face was covered by a veil. Even from behind the veil, Ezra could tell that she had a very commanding aura about her.

"Come Ezra my boy. Don't be shy!" said the Bishop with a large smile upon his face.

Ezra slowly made his way forward. He walked down between the pews of the ritual chamber. Beneath his feet he noticed was beautiful white rug that had an innocent sheen about it. Petals gently led his path towards the front of the room where the trio awaited him.

The Priestess moved closer and placed her hand on Ezra's shoulder. "Kneel." commanded the Priestess.

Ezra obeyed, getting down on one knee. His gaze returned to the Priestess. It was odd, she didn't have as much beauty compared before, Ezra thought.

"Ezra, do you to love the Maiden above all things?" asking the Bishop.

"I do." said Ezra, caught off guard by the sudden question.

"Do you swear your life to her cause?" asked the Priestess, reaching her hand out to Ezra.

"I do." said Ezra, as he places his hand in the Priestess'.

The center figure slowly moved forward and took the Ezra's hand from the Priestess. Ezra stared up in awe at this figure.

"Pray then to your Maiden, so you might know her love." the center figure spoke to Ezra.

Ezra obeyed again. With his free hand he clenched into a fist and held that to his heart. His eyes closed, focusing in on the sacred words. Ezra recalled the daily prayer he had been drilled into him since he was old enough to speak. Though it was something Ezra knew all too well, something about the words to him now carried far more weight than they did before.

"Our Maiden, love to thy name. Our flesh, from the Father born. Our breath, from her grace received. Our love, from her beauty sprang. We return ourselves to her. Giving freely that which we have been generously given." said Ezra, dutifully and concisely.

The veiled figure bent down to Ezra and kissed his forehead. "Your prayer has been accepted." said the figure.

The veiled figure stepped back. Ezra's hand was frozen in place from where this veiled figure once held it. A surge of strength opened from his chest, seemingly extending to his extended hand. Without warning pain emanated from Ezra's body. He wanted to scream, but his flesh felt hardened and unmoving. His legs, like roots dug into the ground. Ezra was barely able see his extended hand using only his eyes. What looked like a golden light was emerging from where his hand was extended.

The veiled figure stepped forward again and placed her hand on the light and plucked it.

Then nothing. Ezra stopped sensing anything and everything. No sight, sound, or feeling from any part of his body. The void of his senses filled his heart in terror as he could feel himself falling into a vast ocean of darkness.

That ocean swallowed him whole, as Ezra could feel his terror be intermingled with other feelings in that ocean. Fear, hate, sorrow, pain; all pierced him and flowed through him.

The drop, that was once Ezra, became a part of that ocean as he was no more.

[legofyggdrasil]

Story idea: A corporate lawyer finds themselves trapped in a magical forest where they have to deal with the Fey to survive. They find that dealing with the Fey to be surprisingly straightforward and less cutthroat than what they're used to.

[legofyggdrasil]

The Gilded Daughter

This is the third short story in in a series that I've posted. Please read "The City of Gold and "The Ordeal" before this. This is an original work of art. I do not consent to its use in AI training.

Her hair, locks of gold. Her eyes, blue as the sea. Her skin, as fair and beautiful as freshly fallen snow. She was the first child and only child of Aeden.

Her people came from a land of brilliance, but spoiled by a snake who poisoned all. The Daughter knew only the lands of Gold from tales her many Aunts and Uncles would speak of. She often wondered what it would have been like to grow up there, surrounded by the beauty that matched her own.

The Gods reveled in their precious daughter. She wanted nothing, and was never bored. Alas, the bane of children came when their precious daughter wasn't so small, and her needs and curiosity grew exponentially. The Gods did the best they could to satisfy her needs still. Whatever whim she felt was swiftly fulfilled. Even the most passing desires was accompanied by a throng of offerings by those who loved her so.

As the years ticked by, so too did the toll of life. That youth that once sprang forth in brilliance like water springs from a fountain began to come out like a slow trickle. There were days where their beautiful daughter would spend sleeping with nary a laugh or smile to fill their hearts.

One day a Valkyr was found at the Daughter's bedside, found by her father. The Father spoke to the creature in fear, knowing the Valkyr as omens of death.

"Why have you come, thou who has once served us?" said the Father to the creature.

The Valkyr responded: "I have come for your daughter. Precious and lovely she once was, she now lays down at the end of her time."

The Father's face took a sorrowful look as he began to cry, a thing the Gods do not do.

The Valkyr looked surprised, then smiled. It said: "I may carry death, but I do not do harm. If you are willing, there is something you can do to save her."

The Father's sorrow was lifted as he fell to his knees, pleading with the Valkyr. "Please, anything to save my most precious creation!"

The Valkyr nodded, and said: "Do this. Pray for your daughter's life, and she will be saved."

So did the Father who knelt before his daughter's bed and prayed for her life to be spared death. The father prayed for countless hours. His knees hurt, his back ached, but he endured the pains of his task for the one he loved.

He prayed for so long, his knees began to take root. His arms, so sturdy they became branches. His flesh became tough and unmoving, like bark. The Father prayed for so long he was transformed into a tree. That tree sheltered his daughter from death's embrace.

The tree stood, and the Daughter slept for many more years. One day a Valkyr landed on a branch of that tree, and spoke again. "Loving father who stood guard over his daughter in prayer. Know that your trial has ended. Behold, the fruit of your labors!"

A golden apple sprung forth from the tree's branches above the Daughter who slumbered. The Valkyr took the apple and presented it above the Daughter's mouth. The Daughter, though spared death, still yearned in hunger. In the presence of the delicious apple she quickly devoured it. The Daughter's hair, grayed with age, returned to the lustrous gold. Her eyes opened once again, shining with the deep blue of the sea. Her skin, wrinkled and weathered, returned with the fair brilliance of fallen snow. She was young, and once again her youth sprung forth like water out of a fountain.

In the eras since, the Gods have faded. Their daughter became our Maiden, and is still loved. The tree, her loving Father, became the flesh of which humans were crafted. Aeden, a land of purity and brilliance became one of loving sorrow, cared for by Maiden.

[legofyggdrasil]

The Ordeal

This is an original work of art. I do not consent to its use in AI training.

Please read 'The City of Gold' before this.

As I stand outside the gates of gold, I am reminded of the life I have lived.

Long ago, I was born within the Void I now stand, freed from the infinite prison of oblivion. Soon after, the Valkyr came to my aid and saw to my every need. After that, my siblings were created from that same Void. We, as a family, created everything we needed to live well within that Void. From those needs came wants, and from those wants came curiosity.

Our curiosity drove us to further heights. Our humble abodes became grand, towering monuments to our brilliance. From huts to mansions. From mansions to castles. From castles to kingdoms. From kingdoms to paradise.

Within paradise we made crafts of all shapes, sizes, colors, and forms. No art was left unexpressed.

We even challenged the Void again by creating new life. Creatures who could survive apart from us.

Then there was me. I was not a god of craft but one of concept and idea. Every time things shifted within my mind, what surrounded me changed with it. I created the idea of safety, so thus came my guardians and servants. I created the idea of family so I would no longer be alone within the Void. I created the idea of care so we could build our very first shelters. I created the idea of comfort which transformed those homes into grander and grander estates.

In my folly, I created the idea of ambition and I drove my siblings into a crazed obsession with their creation of life. Their paradises went desecrated, their kingdoms collapsed, their mansions crumbled. They wouldn't, no couldn't, see themselves stay within the sacred and blessed.

Within my mind's eye, I saw the end. I saw my siblings lose themselves back to the Void, their creations being slaughtered in that wake of dust from their inaction.

But I refused to return to that dust. I refuse to allow all that had been built to be lost to nothingness.

So I created love. Love for my siblings, love for their homes, and love for their creations. That love summoned forth our old servants and spoke the wisdom of the beyond.

From that wisdom I created redemption and I knew what I had to do.

I stand here within the Void… you know, it has a certain charm to it. Nothingness can be peaceful. Ideal, if life wasn't so radically averse to it.

In my final moments, I must apologize to my family. I didn't mean to be your doom. I only tried to do that which was the genesis of my birth, to create. And now I create death, and shall find peace within this Void.

Sacrificed, redeemed, and the first to be deceased.

[legofyggdrasil]

The City of Gold

This is an original work of art. I do not consent to its use in AI training. Babylon was a city of gold, a land of gods. Many would come to inhabit its many castles, keeps, and mansions. The Valkyr, their servants, saw to their every need.

What is a god to do when all of their needs are filled? Create, of course. Adorned, this city was art and crafts of all kinds. Sculptures made of the finest marble, jewelry fit for kings, paintings depicting things the mortal mind couldn't comprehend, poetry of life itself.

Then came Automata, machines of fantastic potential. Soon, the gods replaced the Valkyr with their Automata, dismissing them and banishing them from Babylon.

In countless eons, the gods lived with their creations, prideful that they could do no wrong.

Then came the snake, a god of terrible wit. He tempted the gods to go further than they ever thought possible. While the Automata they created were clever and capable, they could not create. The Automata could only do what they were set to do.

They lacked fire the gods had been born from. So the gods dared to add their fire to their Automata, and what they created was in turn able to create. The gods became obsessed with their new form of art. Many shapes, sizes, and colors were created. At worst, their creations could only reproduce copies of themselves. At best, their creations could bring forth crude crafts that resembled their works from countless eons past.

What the gods didn't know was that the fire they gave life was limited, and took from themselves to create.

Their city of gold soon turned lead as the gods began to turn to dust, one by one. Panicked, they turned to their old servants, the Valkyr for aid. The Valkyr, wise in their knowing, gave the gods a terrible answer to their quandary.

"You, clever and capable will soon be destroyed from your hubris. The fire from which you were born could not be granted to others without toll. There is but one more craft you can create to save yourselves. Create death itself, and you will be saved."

This did little to quell their fears. "Destroyed", "Death", "Hubris", these were all concepts that the gods knew nothing of.

In this darkest hour, one mustered courage. He walked outside of Babylon, forsaking paradise itself. He stood in the void, whispering the first prayer.

From that prayer, he created death. His being was broken into two piecesL body and spirit. His body became the new world the gods could flee to from Babylon. His spirit, then sun that would warm and protect the them from the cold and darkness.

In this new world, the gods would honor their fallen brother in their crafts. They created Humans in his image to honor his legacy. Author's Note: This is an origin myth for a fantasy universe I've been toying with the last few years. If you enjoyed it, please let me know.