A young man and an old man are talking. But the truth lies in all that is left unsaid.
Azania spent most of her life without her family, with only smug and haughty masters as company. But she was a rebel through and through and through and through. She escaped into the Forest and was welcomed by its embrace.
Listen, children, here is the story of the first winter. ——— This is a story I made up it's not a folktale or something.
The city is beautiful and glittering under the shine of the sun. But everyone knows of the people living underneath the city, in their subterranean world. The girl from the comfort of the world above doesn't know much about the world below.
My name is Mihu. I was a peasant farmer. I was taken from my home. I ascended into godhood when I died. But even as a god there was only so much I could do. And the baby who was born under the light of the moon? It’s clear to see she needs me.
There was a servant girl who was the mother of the king's son. There were many other women who were the mothers of many saccharine children. And somewhere in the reality between realities, there were four women creating.
Two worlds, placed in stark opposition with each other, placed intimately nestled close to each other. The world of hunger, thirst, sickness, and need. The world of luxury, comfort, pleasure, and contentment.
I love my dad, the king. And I love my mom, the queen. They are so kind and full of love. They are good people. I know that they're good people. So why are all these people against them? Why are all these people saying such provocative things?
Once upon a time, in a land far away filled with magic of all sorts, there was a type of creature called a Farlen. The blood that they bled, when it hit the sunlight, would turn into a grand host of rubies, one ruby for each drop.
I watch over her. I feel her pain with her. I feel all the many injustices done to her. And I wish I could intervene. I wish I could intervene but ever since my powers became depleted, this is all I can do.
All I know is toil and work and rice and beans and saying goodbye to loved ones too early. But on one night I have a dream. On one afternoon a child commits a crime. On one dawn the world starts turning towards a new day and the gods are closer than we ever knew them to be.
Nobody knows where the stories of Sheelo the prophet originated from. But everyone knows that they believe them. The stories are amazing, fantastical, inspiring, and so very empowering. And everyone knows that Sheelo is on their side.
This is the way it has been for my people, for as long as anyone could remember. Each new life brought with it the threat that the creature posed. Each new life could be snatched away from us too early, too harshly, and far too cruelly.
Malina-Deprassi was a world of extremes. The Big People had more than they ever could need. The Small People struggled to get by. Events occur which cannot be explained. Prophecies are told which gain widespread attention.
The city is filled with everything anyone could ever ask for. With entertainment and fun and beauty and intrigue. So why do I feel so dissatisfied? So why do I feel so empty?
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