|
|
Post by Alexander on Sept 20, 2011 14:14:46 GMT -5
Trapped...
There stands a place between this world and the otherside.
A place many neglect to understand or regard.
A place all too forgotten in the minds and hearts of everyday people. Yet as forgotten as it may be, it looms between the fabrics that separate this world and the worlds on the otherside.
They knew not of this world or of other worlds beside their own, for their existence hung upon a balance of vanity and chaos. Drifting endlessly throughout a place of darkness as unfinished vessels waiting to be completed, they massacred one another; never truly being able to die yet never truly being alive, they knew only chaos and a vain existence without meaning or purpose.
It was there that he was born.
And he was born of the Void.
From the ashes deep within the Northern Crater, he arose nameless, formless, with no place of his own but with a single ambition to simply roam his world as a shade walking a darkened path of nothingness.
Life was a foreign concept to him; he understood only death.
Order was unknown; there was only chaos in his world.
Light was unusual; his was a place of darkness.
Such are those born of the Void that they not even so much as know the warmth of a sun or the cool breeze of the wind.
When the power of the Black Materia was released unto the world, so great was it's force that it pulled him from the Void and brought him into the world of men and the light of the world of men disgusted him. Like a thousand brands pressing upon his back and a thousand needles into his eyes so was the light of the sun to him Yet not having the power to raze all these new and disgusting things to the ground, he found the only solace from the light and color of the world in the shell of slumber.
And so he slept.
Yet even in his sleep grew restless.
Tormented by the light and it's warmth, the first dreams he would ever dream were of tearing this world from the very weavings of existence.
And then they came.
With their machines and their ambition to harvest a power native to this world they woke him and he did not want to be woken. In merciless rage and kindled hatred he slaughtered these humans in whose screams rose up to very heavens and it was in their blood that he found his power replenished.
But he needed more....
-----Windhill-----
There was held in Windhill, on the third season after the first massacre, a town meeting at the great hall. Most, if not all, the townsfolk gathered within to discuss the recent issues that have struck Windhill. In particular, the monster that has been indulging on Windhill's livestock and has taken residence in the nearby hillside.
"How many cows have you lost this week, Benny?" Mayor McNeil stood at the podium, watching, listening, taking into consideration the many pleas and concerns of the townsfolk as they yelled from their seats in disorderly distress.
"Eight.. I'm down to my last fourteen... if something isn't done about this I'm afraid we wont have enough to for the Galbadians this season."
"Let me worry about the Galbadians. In the meantime keep your herd in the barns as much as you can."
"Mayor McNeil... I don't mean to be disrespectful but what exactly are you going to do about this?" Unable to help themselves they placed their hope and confidence in the Mayor, as though he were their shepherd and they his sheep, but such a situation had not been known to him in all his days as Mayor.
Abruptly.
The doors opened wide with great violence and distress, as a single shepherd boy shouted from that place at the doorway, "It's returned! The monster came and killed most of the sheep!"
It was an outrage.
The great hall grew mad with anger, turmoil. Like a disorderly mob they rushed out and toward the fields where the sheep grazed to behold a medley of blood, innards, and once-white wool stained red.
"Did you see it, boy?" Mayor McNeil quietly asked the shepherd boy who stood next to him. Though outwardly the Mayor remained calm and without distress, within him stirred an anxiety, a fear, a hopelessness that was becoming more so evident in his eyes and in his voice.
"Just a glance, sir... it was.. like a shadow.. like a specter really!"
Moments passed.
Most of the townsfolk returned to their homes in worry. Only Mayor McNeil, the shepherd boy, and Benny the farmer remained standing upon that field, beneath the heat of the Summer sun and the breeze of the valley's win.
"Nothing like I've seen before... these cuts... almost like claws but..."
The next day, Marks were posted all over Winhill and the Mayor, McNeil, sent messengers to all of the neighboring towns seeking aid from any whose heart is valiant enough to muster courage against this threat. Quickly, word of the monster and of the reward for it's capture spread throughout the region and brave hearts from across the lands made route toward the small country town of Winhill.
In a world of light...
  |
|
