Season of Spring, Day 1, 513 AV
In his dreams, he followed the vision of a flower out of the underworld. The vision guided him to a mountain with its peak beyond the clouds. For weeks, he clawed at the rocks until the webbing between his fingers and toes was torn, and he bled. He was naked, assailed by a freezing rain, but he was compelled to climb ever higher. There, upon an exposed ledge, assaulted by a cutting, biting wind the flower grew from between two barren rocks. He did not know its name, but it was pale blue, and made of five intricate, curving, delicate petals. He knew that it was dying. A shadowy raven stood on a rock above it.
He cupped the blossom in his ravaged hands, and the elements assaulted him. He slept with his body curled about it, but found no rest in sleep. The bitter winter swirled about him until all sense of time was gone. The sun never shone upon him, although he prayed for it with the passing of every tortured moment. The moon became a stranger to him. He knew only pain, but the flower was safe, and he was content. His warmth breath bathed it with his life. His blood sustained it. He became nothing. Only the beautiful bloom existed. His heart beat for it for a span of twenty-three days, and twenty-three nights.
When the storm broke he looked upon the flower once more. It still lived, and hope began to swell within him. Winter had passed, and was to be replaced by spring. The sun was slowly rising rising in the east. However, when the light touched the flower the flower wilted, and the raven cackled with glee.
"When the flower died, I died with it..." Echoed a quiet voice within his mind.
The crow clutched the flower's stem within its beak, and tore it from the ground. Then, it took flight towards a growing shadow on the western horizon. Caweyre's spirit followed it as it flew, and he passed into darkness beyond the bounds of the world. An infinite desert awaited him there, with white sand that stretched towards every horizon. The raven landed next to an octagonal obsidian obelisk, roughly twenty feet high. Standing there, a new coldness passed over him.
The crow stood before the obelisk, barely visible in the gloom, and dropped the withered flower upon the ground. Caweyre wept as he stooped to touch it once more, remembering the beauty it held in life. It melted into nothing when his tears washed over it until not even a hint of its peaceful, blue petals remained upon the earth. The sky was a swirling maelstrom of dark reds and deep purples. The raven dissolved into the gloom. Only the obelisk remained, filling him with ever-growing dread until he finally thought to flee.
Strengthened by his terror, his will carried his spirit away from the horrible gravity of the black tower, but though he fled the world was lost to him. Even when the sinister obelisk was far from sight only the bleached desert could be seen in all directions, reaching towards infinity. He longed for the sea.
He cupped the blossom in his ravaged hands, and the elements assaulted him. He slept with his body curled about it, but found no rest in sleep. The bitter winter swirled about him until all sense of time was gone. The sun never shone upon him, although he prayed for it with the passing of every tortured moment. The moon became a stranger to him. He knew only pain, but the flower was safe, and he was content. His warmth breath bathed it with his life. His blood sustained it. He became nothing. Only the beautiful bloom existed. His heart beat for it for a span of twenty-three days, and twenty-three nights.
When the storm broke he looked upon the flower once more. It still lived, and hope began to swell within him. Winter had passed, and was to be replaced by spring. The sun was slowly rising rising in the east. However, when the light touched the flower the flower wilted, and the raven cackled with glee.
"When the flower died, I died with it..." Echoed a quiet voice within his mind.
The crow clutched the flower's stem within its beak, and tore it from the ground. Then, it took flight towards a growing shadow on the western horizon. Caweyre's spirit followed it as it flew, and he passed into darkness beyond the bounds of the world. An infinite desert awaited him there, with white sand that stretched towards every horizon. The raven landed next to an octagonal obsidian obelisk, roughly twenty feet high. Standing there, a new coldness passed over him.
The crow stood before the obelisk, barely visible in the gloom, and dropped the withered flower upon the ground. Caweyre wept as he stooped to touch it once more, remembering the beauty it held in life. It melted into nothing when his tears washed over it until not even a hint of its peaceful, blue petals remained upon the earth. The sky was a swirling maelstrom of dark reds and deep purples. The raven dissolved into the gloom. Only the obelisk remained, filling him with ever-growing dread until he finally thought to flee.
Strengthened by his terror, his will carried his spirit away from the horrible gravity of the black tower, but though he fled the world was lost to him. Even when the sinister obelisk was far from sight only the bleached desert could be seen in all directions, reaching towards infinity. He longed for the sea.
