We were waiting for them, we were ready. Nothing could, nothing would go wrong. If it went badly, if Amurite blood was spilt, then everybody was doomed. For, if the Deadlands werent cleansed, then the Infernals couldnt be stopped, the forces assembled at the shore couldnt win, and the power of the corrupted would win. The taint in everyones soul would damn them to hell, and Mazera would turn black and gold, a shadowy reflection of the light and purity in everybodys souls. And, with that knowledge, Lorelei Coral had called for everything they had. Farmers, Scholars, Weavers, everybody. Priests, Philosophers, Diplomats, everybody. There was no way out. And, she also knew that, on the mainland, every single citizen was meditating, adding to the potent magical strength of the army.
They all got ready, some polishing their weaponry, others placing wards of protection over loved ones. One young girl was praying, kneeled down in front of a tree, wearing a soft white dress. It was the dress of an Elohim Devout. A single tear slid down her face, and was absorbed by the ground. It was going to be a long day.
And, with their army, the Amurites waited. In the distance, the shadowy grey city of Galveholm loomed. And, the city gates opened. Out poured an army, many, many times bigger than the small Amurite forces gathered at the top of the hill. And, behind them, some of the bravest warriors, and some of the most skilled of the Elohim and Bannor troops joined the army assembled at the top of the hill. The rest stayed in the tents, afraid of the magics that could occur. And as the forces marched up, magical energy made the air glitter. Streams of this glittering air was coming from all directions. A river of it was pouring over the sea, from the Amurites on the mainland. A smaller stream came from the Malakim, the Grigori, the Khadi. It seemed that the same message had been uncovered. In the ancient texts, the same warning, of this date, and how it spelt the end of civilization. So, they attacked. They attacked for everyone, for their family, for their friends, and for their Gods. Without moving, and with the powers given to them by Kylorin, they attacked and slaughtered over half of the forces climbing over the hill using just the powers of the mind. Shutting down their brains, their nervous system, killing them as they marched. But, they were still outnumbered. So, they started gathering energy, until the air was thick with latent magical energy. As the first lines of the army appeared over the top of the hill, and the air glimmered with magic. The young woman stood out of the lines, on the edge of a cliff. The army looked shocked, she was going to be slaughtered. And even though she looked young, her eyes told a different story. Full of pain and sorrow. She alone knew what was going to happen, she had been waiting for this for many lives, waiting for the stars to arrange themselves. She whispered a quick prayer to Sirona, to Sucellus, to Nantosuelta, to Oghma, and to Mulcarn. Then she started singing, the words as beautiful as the voice singing them, and the stars shifted, making an alignment never seen before, made up of the angels of the five gods.
When Mulcarn deemed an endless cold
And greenwoods rotted bleak and sere
The moon wept high above the world
To see its beauty dwindling:
To earth fell down a single tear
And there stepped forth a shining girl
Like moonlight that through alabaster
Wells, its pallor kindling.
And, as she sung, the spirits sung as well. The mist of power changed, attracted to the singer. A strange, unearthly wind swept her hair.
Such beauty made all beauty dim
And homage called from voiceless stone
Like whitest samite was her skin
Or seafoam softly glimmering
A star that lit the night alone
She stepped the winter woods within,
A pearl a-glisten in the gloam,
A moonbeam fleetly shimmering
The clouds separated, and a single beam of light illuminated the young girl. The light added to the halo of energy already swirling around her. Slowly, the halo grew stronger, and the young girls beauty seemed to grow.
Then wild amazement fastened on
The Moonchilds heart, and far she ran,
Through all the vales of Lirion
Her voice like bellnotes echoing:
And from the branches blossom sprang
In iron groves of leafmeal wan,
And Spring herself woke up and sang,
The gentle Summer beckoning.
And, through the mists, you could see a faint vision of this island before the fall. The vision grew stronger, trees looming through the mists of time, affecting the fabric of reality.
She passed into the mountain keeps
Where stormdogs guard the ravined walls,
A moonbeam piercing dismal deeps,
Down jagged ridges clambering:
Until she found a crystal fall,
A river frozen in its leap,
And in its depths a marble hall
Of lofty spires was trembling.
And, then the air grew colder, freezing the trees as the view changed. A small river at the bottom of the hill froze, and the sky split open, letting the small frozen flakes of water float through the sky and land on the ground.
In wonderment she silent fell,
And stood below the wall of glass
Enraptured by the citadel,
Its endless, sparkling mullions:
Like lillies caught in sudden frost
Which grew no more, but comely still,
Forlornly cast those towers of ice
Their cold and lifeless brilliance.
And, with a flash of blinding light, the vision spread, covering the whole island. The ice spread, freezing the army, grass turning white as quickly as the snow fell.
And to her touch the towers wept
She called the power that had died
The thread of magic to bring forth
And awake the life dormant in me
And ice did turn into stone,
And from the stone life blossomed
And flowered and spread through the land
The life was born from death
The singing echoed around, and the young girl was glowing, shining brighter, and as she flicked her wrist, snow, blossom and leaves were swept across the frozen ground. Where they landed, small flowers grew. She placed a hand on the trunk of a tree next to her. The singing resonated through the land, and she drew the halo of energy through her body, into the tree, and through the frozen ground. All was silent for a moment, a second that stretched for aeons. Then, as suddenly as it froze, the tree burst into life. Leaves unfurled, and as they grew, the ground awoke. Grass and flowers grew from the frozen earth, and, as the thawing spread through the Sheaim army, they started glittering. The spells and wards cast around them shone in the regenerating magics in the air. They shone, and slowly broke up, swirling particles of energy turning against the Sheaim, promoting life instead of destroying it. A piercing scream died in the wind. Soldiers tried to run, but they couldnt, and the magical overload absorbed the fell energies cast into their blood. Particle after particle of their existence faded, transmuted into power, which was absorbed by the ground. Very few of the soldiers survived, and those that did were purified in the potent healing magics. The energy consumed the great city of Galveholm, replacing it with an ancient forest from a past era. The Amurite army started walking back. All were exhausted, some went and packed up their stuff, and headed for the boats, some set up massive scrying pools, and arranged boats to the island. And, one lonely girl found a clearing, sat on a tree stump, and cried.
The young singer knew that the spell had to be completed. She knew the cost. And, she knew that one man would miss her more than life itself. Because, No one ever really pays for it in silver. The price of any evil-- necessary or otherwise-- comes due in flesh. And, she knew that what she was doing was evil. She used the divine magic of life, of her life, past, present and future. She created a spell of power, a rune so ancient even the Risen Emperor didnt know it. A rune so powerful, it was banned in the signing of the Compact. But, the gods were on her side, and she knew that all magic could be used for good. So, the final rune was cast, and she looked out on the island, imagining what her other lives could have been like, and, she took out a ornate, silver locket, and hung it on a tree branch.
She could see that the spell was starting to unravel, she had to do it now. And, so she pulled out a ceremonial dagger. She shouted out that she was sorry, and her lover turned around. He saw the point, and instantly knew what she planned to do. He ran over, but it was all for nothing. It was too late. The world crashed around him, as she sunk the dagger into her flesh. A red stain spread through her clothes. The runes cast in the trees around her started to glow, and her body disintegrated, turned into stardust. And, it suddenly became clear. She couldnt, wouldnt be brought back. Her last actions were to destroy her eternal body and free her soul. And, as her life was extinguished, he saw a shining butterfly sweep gracefully into the sky. He waited for the descent, the sign that she was going to be reborn, but it didnt come. In saving the world, she had doomed herself. He looked up at the stars, and whispered a prayer. For, everybody knows that everybody dies, and after millennia of living, she had finally completely passed into the other life. She had died saving millions, and nobody would remember her for it. He went to leave, but turned around, and picked up an ornate locket. Memories flashed back, of that time in the Age of Magic, the very first time she remembered. A single tear fell on the locket. The silver seemed to ripple, and he wished, for a moment, foolishly imagined that she was standing behind him. He walked over to the edge of a cliff, and looked down into the sea. He grasped the locket tight, held it to his heart.
He looked over the sea, and slowly, his hair turned greyer, he got older. His cloak turned royal red. It was time to stop hiding. There was nothing left for him, so he had no fears of dying. He threw the spell off, reverting to how he had looked for over 1000 years. And, so, he declared in the voices of old, that this island shall be renamed, to be known for eternity, as the Isle Of Eve. It was the only thing he could do. And, as he cast the spell of teleporting, he too one last look at the island, at the Elohim and Bannor warriors rushing out to see the beauty of the land, and, a single tear slid down his face, and landed on the newly-born land. An idea struck him. There was one thing he could do, one thing that could save her, that had already saved her. At the last minute, he decided against it. She was gone, and it would be wrong to bring her back. So, he faded away. He had to save Erebus, for the sacrifice of eternal life may have destroyed one evil, but the Infernal were still here, and it was up to him to stop them.
*~*
The Amurite nation held a conference today, about what would be done with the Isle of Eve. In an outstanding turn-around, the council declared that the island would be free for all to settle, a true island of peace. The first city is being built in the middle of a forest, using knowledge granted to them by the Ljosalfar. Elohim, Bannor and Amurite citizens have moved into the city, created by singing to the trees. Ljosalfar citizens are expected to arrive within a week.
In other news, a monument has appeared in the middle of several cities, a statue of a beautiful girl, dressed in the traditional clothes of an Elohim devout. The cities these sculptures appeared in seem to be unrelated. So far, monuments have been confirmed in Udenarat, Midgar, Radonnor, Kwythellar, Garduk and Grottiburg. When Grigori specialists studied the statue, they could find no trace of toolmarks, as if they had just appeared out of thin air. At night, a faint outline of a butterfly is said to appear in the air behind the monuments. A plaque was found on them yesterday, reading:
Seeing beauty makes you feel beautiful. Seeing tragedy makes you feel sad. Seeing yourself... Well if you look long enough, you may find who you really are.
