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 {World Building} The History of Miren | Birth

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Screw4ff

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PostSubject: {World Building} The History of Miren | Birth   Fri Mar 17, 2017 4:47 am

The following is the history of the world of Miren as told by the creature that watches it, the being that tends to it, that passively sits and waits. The creature is unbiased, it has no love for Miren or any landmass or sea or person or creature therein. The creature is simply there to watch, and to wait, and to decide. If that sounds ominous then I regret to inform you that it is. The following is the history of the world, recounted by Almearufah, who was the first and only person or creature to interact with the creature, who Almearufah has named Rajamie, which in his language is derived from the term “Watcher of all.” Our account begins as all stories do: shortly after the end.

Year 0 Day 1
The sun sits still in the sky, looking down upon a land of dust and ash. Under the dust and ash is more dust and ash and beneath that is more until suddenly and abruptly there is soil. Soil that many, many, many, truly an incalculable amount of years ago was likely to be fertile and brimming with foliage of many types that would bloom and bear fruit in the spring. Now, though, it is suffocated in the dust and ash and… bone. There are bones in the dust and the ash. There are bones and the sun sits unmoving, not moving slowly, not setting or rising or turning the day to night or night today, no. It is not moving. Nothing is moving. There are bones beneath the dust and the ash and the sun is unmoving and the day is not turning and the night is not coming and the soil is suffocated in the dust and ash.

Then, something miraculous happens: Nothing, and the sun moves. The sun moves slowly but it moves and something changes. The ash and dust begins begins to part and deep beneath it cracks form in in the soil. From the sky comes rain and wind and the ash and dust is whipped about in a horrible storm and slammed into the ground bit by bit. The bones are on the soil now and the storm is slamming the ash and dust onto them bit by bit it persists. The storm rages and the rain wets the soil and the ash and the dust and the bones begin to form something, something small, something old, tired and old. From the ash and the dust there is a new creature, thin, shriveled, dry, newborn. The storm fades, and the new and old creature is left to stare at the sun. Its body is bent at the waist as the creature cranes to look at the blazing sun as it crawls across the sky. The creature begins to glow an incandescent green, then, with its withered, chapped lips. It smiles.


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