In a world offered by their Creator, these beings of light, which dared step beyond the warmth and light of their home, find themselves time and time again against odds which don’t favour them, and at times, outright unfair. They were born surrounded by those unfavourable odds, yet they kept pushing forward, trying to find something that is worth living for. The wild, beautiful, untamed world that is Erta, is something that the Lightborn wanted to change, but whether it’s worth their sanity, lives and freedom or not in pursuit of this change, is something they have asked themselves since that fateful day.
Kilon stood atop a hill, near the forests that were climbing up the tall mountains surrounding these lands. The Lightborn were setting up places to rest before the travel, as tomorrow, they would depart towards the south, where Kilon believes the mountains surround the Lands Between Mountains, and would be a suitable place to start building their home. However, the newfound plants prove troublesome. After all, how can one call a place their home, if said place lurks with danger? For that reason, worry grew in a steady manner inside of him. Not only did the vision of his sibling haunted him, but what he wrongly assumed to be a safer place, proves especially deadly to his kind. It isn’t something outside his expectations, no, it’s because it meets those expectations that he is worried, for he knows that there might be dangers beyond what he envisioned.
He touched his head with his right hand, the hair which never grew, felt slightly longer and thicker. Not only for him, but all others noticed it too once they were able to rest. Hair, skin, eyes. They were all growing, some longer, some wearier, as this world took its toll upon their bodies. It was something a normal being wouldn’t notice, these variations being so slight and inconsequential when one has to survive, that it could be considered a luxury to even have the time to reflect upon it. For the Lightborn, also, in the case of their hair and skin, those aspects didn’t change even after they started venturing into the Shivering Lands. The sole reason was the Link to which they kept returning, its radiant energy, supplying every aspect of their being. Once they started to venture beyond the reach of the Link’s light and warmth, those aspects began to change in minuscule increments.
“Are we mortal?” Kilon wondered to himself. He looked at everyone, counted them again in order to recall his lost brethren. ‘Of course we are. We breathe, we bleed, we cry, we die,’ he thought. ‘We are akin to all these other living beings. So then, why must we be the ones suffering for being slightly different? I understand, Creator, that we should assume the risks which come from leaving the Link. Yet these burdens which we endure, the losses which we suffer, why so much? Isn’t there another way? An easier… path?’. Kilon’s thoughts deepened, his questions always unanswered, as the connection to the Creator was too far apart, so he thought.
“Wise son of mine,” the voice of the Creator reverberated throughout his whole being. His mind and body were floating in a space that didn’t exist. It wasn’t inside his head, nor in some other world. Kilon felt his whole being enveloped, much like it was inside the Link, the only difference was that it felt so different, so much better. “My children are not to be compared with the Flesh Beings which I created. You are not to live by their means, nor die as they do, for you are Beings of Light. Me, you my son, and your siblings, my children, are not made of flesh, but of Light. Those which are made of Light, are Ascended beyond the confines of flesh. And those which are Ascended beyond the confines of flesh, shall know greater pain than that of the Flesh Beings, yet far greater joy than all the pain they can suffer.”. Words akin to a promise.
“Kilon?” Menoel’s voice is what Kilon heard first after the Creator spoke to him. Then the cold air and warm sun rays touching his skin, are what he felt after. Moonblooms were being carried in the wind high above, the heat of the sun letting them spread their seeds across the fields. Melonius was taunting some of his siblings with sharp flowers, while Eharel was forming groups, a couple sharp flowers poking from his back. Avunaia was returning after a night spent hunting for creatures from around with the Sweepers as Kilon instructed them, while Avaanel was gathering reports of any new discoveries. “You’ve been praying for the past sun, has the Creator shown you another vision?”.
‘A sun?’ Kilon didn’t feel the passage of time. He spent mere moments inside of that space, yet the time on Erta moved so much faster. “No, the Creator didn’t,” he responded briefly, his body finally touching the ground after a day of seeming prayer. He didn’t feel tired in the least, contrary, his body felt ‘complete’ in a sense, as if a missing piece was put back into place.
Menoel let out a small sigh of relief, then reported to Kilon about the preparations. “We also discovered something more, ‘peculiar’,” Menoel kept talking to Kilon as they headed down the hill, both using small gusts of wind under their feet to make their walk easy and seemingless, the descent looking unnatural and fluid from below. “On the other side of the walking water, there are forests at some distance, following the walking water from some point up from where it comes,” they were at the bottom of the hill swiftly. “Inside those, Avunaia believes she found tracks of what you tasked her with.”.
Kilon looked into Menoel’s eyes, then down and frowned. “Have they caught one, or at least a glimpse of it?” Kilon wanted to assess the danger.
“No, they didn’t,” Menoel responded, Kilon met his eyes, a bit surprised, as Avunaia and her group became skillful in observing even the smallest things. Menoel frowned before continuing, “Not only that, apparently whatever that being was, it killed and ate some of the mane looters while in flight as they were plunging into the forest, trying to snatch plants.”. It was little information, but Kilon was reaching his earlier suspicion, that these lands may have dangers beyond his expectations. Whether or not they will be able to tame and capture these predators, might prove more difficult.
Kilon placed his hand on Menoel’s shoulder, “Thank you brother, let us go then, we shall traverse these lands and find ourselves a more suitable place to settle down.”. Menoel nodded, a bit shook by Kilon’s lack of response, expecting him to take some further action for it. “I know you might worry about these predators, but don’t, for if they seem to have their own territory. And unless all of them are like the beast, we should be able to reach south without worry, as long as we follow the walking water,” Menoel lightened up, his face relaxed for a moment, knowing that Kilon had already accounted for all of it.
“Very well Kilon. I will gather the others and we should start moving soon,” Menoel patted Kilon on the back and went on to fulfil his duties.
Kilon watched patiently, analysing his surroundings and looking towards where the forest which Avunaia saw the predator was. ‘Another ‘beast’, I see. Hopefully my sister will be able to handle it, much like I did back then,’ Kilon thought to himself as he touched his scarred arm, ‘so I don’t have to,’ his eyes expelling sparks for a few moments.
Avaanel’s group
“Give me a couple drain vines,” Avaanel ordered one of her sisters. They didn’t like to be ordered around by her, but most wouldn't dare complain to her, and would rather avoid a slap from her or worse. Fanteem was the one to hand her the plants, as the others were too scared from the incident three suns ago. These plants would try to snatch onto his arm and dig its way into his skin and flesh, but due to his ability, to control light outside his body and let it act as a sort of protective layer, which upon contact, would burn the skin of a flesh being, or in the case of plants, turn them to ashes. It was a draining ability, so he could only use it on segments of his body and for short periods of time. Still, he was best, besides Kilon and Menoel, to handle these sort plants, which they gathered in baskets made of twigs and knitted together with different, strong, long grass-like plants. “Now bring me a purtoad and place it on my left forearm,” she further ordered. Another sibling, Hastaia, brought the frog. The critter was of a strong purple colour, with black spots on its back. It was first found at the bottom of a mountain, where one of the Lightborn stepped on it, and had their foot swole up and burst in places through the skin light. If it were a normal, flesh being, then it would’ve died a few moments after touching the purtoad. To the Lightborn advantage, poison was of little threat, as their bodies worked on pure energy and light, but it still affected them to some degree, as the light within them would respond aggressively against these poisons, as mentioned above.
“Why is she doing this?” Culroon asked in a whisper Fanteem after he placed the drain vine by the side of Avaanel and took a few steps back. Her whole group was watching her.
“If we are to live in this environment, we must adapt to these threats. And sheer force can only do so much, and only towards so many things. Thus-” Avaanel interrupted Fanteem, she liked giving explanations on her own.
“Thus, besides the offences we bring against these threats, we must develop our defences in tandem, strike a balance so we aren’t as prone to failing when dealing with the unknown,” Fanteem clicked his tongue, annoyed he couldn’t finish the explanation. They were all listening and nodding along to what she said, given that it made total sense.
“That’s why you want us all to watch? So we can learn from you how to deal with these dangers on our own?” Hastaia asked Avaanel.
“Well, yes, but also because I’m proud of my work and I want to show it to others,” Avaannel admitted to her selfishness. Some of them huffed and sighed, her need for attention overbearing at times. “Now though, if I’m correct, watch how we can solve issues, not with might, but our minds!” Avaanel proclaimed, the others watching intently, as Hastaia placed the frog, which she held tightly in her hands protected only by mud and leaves, on Avaanel’s left forearm. On Avaanel’s right side, her hand stood above the drain vines which were trying to reach for hand with sporadic movements. Once Hastaia let the frog sit a little, then Avaanel felt the poison coursing through her arm, Avaanel made a small head gesture, which Hastaia took as to take the frog away. They all watched her arm starting to swell and her skin burst in places, light erupting from it. “As you can see, the light tries to forcefully push out the poison. But in doing so, it damages everything inside and outside my arm,” she started an explanation as the poison reached some place further up her arm. “One possible solution for us, is to stop the flow of light into the affected part and let the poison die out, as it is, much like the flesh of the critters, alive and cannot survive for long,” they all listened, the pain which she felt in her left arm, meagre by comparison to the ecstasy she felt for sharing her wisdom and having those eyes paying attention to her.
“But! That carries risk. One must be skillful in their light manipulation in the case of the body, and many of us, who are better at using our minds, rather than bodies, can find it both difficult and tedious. So this! This is one possible way to solve it,” she continued, the poison stopping at the area of her elbow, as the whole forearm swelled from the inside, looking as if ready to burst all the light held within. Avaanel didn’t waste anymore time and grabbed the drain vine, which tried to burrow itself into the palm with which she grabbed it, but couldn’t due to a thin layer of protective light, much like Fanteem only weaker, and didn’t have time to attempt a struggle for it, as Avaanel placed it on her forearm, where the poison started to spread from. Both her and her siblings watched carefully, from behind, Menoel arrived ready to give the signal to go. But he also was curious to see how this will go, preparing scenarios in his mind in case it would go wrong.
The drain vine started its usual, natural behaviour, and started to dig inside her forearm. But once it started to consume poison instead of light, the drain vine entered a different kind of state, through which its own inner, defensive system, started to act against the poison. They all watched in wonder, as the drain vine, the portion remaining outside her forearm, turned purple from green in colour. Avaanel’s arm also ceased in its swelling and returned to a more natural state. There was another small section still afflicted by the poison, close to her elbow, on which she placed the second drain vine to take care of it. However, the smaller amounts of poison were fought with ease by the drain vine, which then tried to spread inside her arm. Menoel stepped in when he saw her struggling in getting it out and dealt with it in the same manner as Kilon did. Except it was less accurate and precise, so he hurt Avaanel in the process.
“You could use a touch more of grace,” Avaanel complained to him. He looked with a bothered face by her remarks, which she scoffed at, as she thought she was handling it fine.
“You should be more careful when attempting these sorts of things,” Menoel scolded her. The others murmured in agreement, which Avaanel didn’t like, but let it go, since this was still a success in her mind, and Menoel’s smirk when he turned away from her, further amplified that feeling. “We must move,” Menoel told everyone present. “Kilon is no longer praying, and he says we should be fine going south, as long as we don’t go on the other side of the walking water and into the forests on the other side,” he revealed to them.
“Is he sure of it?” Avaanel prompted herself to her foot with the help of the starstag antlers. “From what Avunaia said, the predator which killed some of the mane looters was dangerous.”. They were looking for further affirmation from Menoel.
“Yes, he is. Trust him, much like we always do,” Menoel reaffirmed it, their faces shifting with smiles and timid relaxation. ‘The Creator favours him, I can tell. It’s only natural that we must trust him no matter what,’ Menoel was able to tell Kilon was hiding from him some truth. ‘None of us can enter such a deep state of prayer, not for even half a sun, much less for a whole sun,’ thus Menoel’s natural disbelief that the Creator didn’t show him anything. ‘Whatever is that the Creator showed or told Kilon, it changed something within him, or rather, added something,’ his intuition sharp as ever.
Eharel’s group
All the Lightborn were gathering in groups of two hundred to four hundred, forming gaps between them at the front, back and between to flanks. This was in order to allow, in case anything happens, for the groups to be able to move around without crashing into each other. The river alongside which they will travel, provided them with a natural way to retreat in case something from within the forests threatens the group as a whole, being able to fly above water or manipulate the water itself around them to sink at the bottom of the river. Eharel had to instruct them of this new formation, which he personally developed after what happened in the rootworm territory.
‘I’m mostly done here, there’s only three groups remaining. The one led by Kilon and Menoel, the Sweepers and Avaanel’s. But they should be fine, they all know of the formations we must take. Issue is… him,” he was looking at Melonius. Still fooling around and causing trouble wherever he went with those sharp flowers to poke at someone. Eharel tried to reason with him, but he always was met with sharp flowers at his back afterwards. The death of Efeehem saddened everyone, and Eharel could sympathise with Melonius, given how close they were, but his compassion could only allow so much, before his anger would envelop him beyond belief. He didn’t like that side of him, the angry part, yet it’s nothing he could do about, especially when everything has been so stressful and overwhelming. ‘Whatever, he’s not my problem. Kilon told me to organise everyone, not take care of Melonius, so I will do as told and-.”.
“Oh, Eharel, here you are,” Avunaia appeared from behind, Prickety picking at her hair, which was looking roughed up from all the picking and the slight growth spurt it had. Eharel didn’t like the activities of the Sweepers, he had to argue for some of his animal skins at times, because the Sweepers claim anything that’s left unwatched for more than a half a sun, as ‘common goods’. “Menoel sent me to pass on this, since he must ready everyone to leave. ‘Put Melonius in line’ he said,” Eharel froze for a moment, holding onto his belt that had his animal skins marked with simple symbols, for counting. Avunaia noticed his distressed disposition, but she knew how troublesome Melonius was. The only reason he stayed away from her and the Sweepers, was because they were more troublesome when combined, however, Melonius was still a handful, so she wanted no part in that. “Well, may the Creator be with you brother, and hope for the best,” Eharel gave a sharp look back as a response, which she took as a gesture to leave, not having the usual energy to make a remark or hit him, for she still had to recover some more after the night hunt.
‘Menoel, he must’ve done it on purpose,’ Eharel could only find some sort of retribution behind Menoel’s order. While Menoel simply looked at Melionus’ behaviour as nothing of such trouble that others made it out to be. For Melonius was easier to say that, since his ability exceeded that of Melonius and could anticipate his schemes before they came into play. Eharel and others of similar glow however, were more instinctual, so they couldn’t know when Melonius decided it was the time to torment them with sharp flowers or random ambushes.
As Eharel was stirring up his mind for ways to deal with Melonius or move the task onto someone else, Melonius poked him from behind with a sharp flower. Light escaped from the hole the sharp flower poked before closing it, and Eharel was enraged. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with, and it was just before him, as if the Creator decided for this to be his fate.
Melonius noticed the rage building inside of Eharel, his glow shifting and moving erratically. He took it, however, much like he did with any other reaction. Something which they get angry with, move on, so he can then repeat it. He didn’t see how he was causing so much distress to those around him, although to everyone else it was pretty much clear. Melonius smiled at Eharel, then tried to make a run for it, before he could be caught. But Eharel didn’t let that go, and caught him by the skin pelts he was wearing, forcing Melonius to a sudden stop and fall.
“Do you have any idea how much we don’t need this kind of foolishness?!” Eharel snapped at Melonius who was sitting down on his bottom and starting upwards. “Menoel had told me to deal with you, that’s how much of an issue you have become, brother,” his words would cut through most of their siblings, but Menoel was still oblivious to it. As if he couldn’t feel Menoel’s frustration.
“Need? It’s not about what you or the others need, it’s just about me playing a bit before we do anything serious,” this answer from Melonius confused Eharel, which further amplified his anger.
“You’re not listening, Melonius!” Eharel screamed at him,”Because you fool around and don’t let us, me, rest and be alone, you slow us down and impede our progress!”. Melonius was still not listening, waiting for Eharel to either just hit him, which he could somewhat avoid with his ability, or let go so he could cause some more mayhem. Eharel saw that there were no words which could reach him, and hitting him would at best give him a bruise, but nothing more. So he let his thoughts and Melonius go away and simply acted on instinct when he said “If this is how you behave because one Efeehem died, then you should’ve died too back then so when more of us will, you won’t become a larger issue!”.
After he finally listened to what Eharel said, upon hearing Efeehem’s name, Melonius felt this swirling anger and sadness he kept locked away in his heart. For the first time after Efeehem’s death, he showed genuine emotion, his eyes, crying sparks that erupted from deep within. Melonius’ body glowed strongly, which Eharel took as a sign that Melonius was preparing to attack him, so he infused his own body with more light, knowing he could take him on if it was a body to body fight. But Melonius didn’t, he calmed his glow, to such an extent, that it scared Eharel. Melonius’ eyes were empty, the flickering light pulsating from within, seemingly dead for a few moments.
“I should’ve… Efeehem was so strong, and I so weak. When he died, I felt like I lost my strength,” he confessed. Eharel calmed his own glow, relaxing, then thinking back upon what he said, guilt engulfing his heart. “I-I just wished I could’ve played with him a bit more. Make fun of him, take a hit from him when going too far. But there is none here, none who can play with me like we did, nor anyone to hit me like he did,” the harsh love between the two brothers, which was inseparable, cut and lost with Efeehem’s death. Eharel knew Melonius must’ve been tormented by his death, to this extent though, is not what Eharel believed it to be.
“I’m so-” Eharel tried to apologise, but upon looking into Melonius’ eyes, he knew that once again, there was nothing to be said. So, instead, he approached him. Melonius didn’t move his eyes that were looking at the ground. Then, with a swing of his arm, Eharel hit Melonius in the face. Melonius caught life back into his eyes, sparking flaming his eyes with anger.
“You hit me after pouring my heart like this?! Do you truly wish me death brother?!” Melonius asked enraged. Eharel smiled, and Melonius was confused.
“There isn’t anyone to hit you like he did, you say” Eharel repeated his words, which made Melonius realise the meaning behind his, almost, unwarranted violence. “Then I will hit you, I will play with you and let you insult me like you did with him,” Melonius twisted his face in pain. He didn’t want someone to take Efeehem’s place, he wanted Efeehem to be there for him. Eharel dropped to his knees, Melonius on his back, and stared at each other. “I know I can’t be Efeehem, and what we lost can't be taken back. But I can be your brother, and I can take care of you, can’t I?”. Eharel extended his arm to Melonius, help him get on his knees.
“You can barely take care of yourself, and you hit like a horned rabbit,” Melonius pushed Eharel’s hand aside, and hugged him. Crying on his back, “You muttface,” Eharel smiled, holding Melonius in his arms.
Kilon
‘From the looks of it, everything is ready,’ Kilon could ascertain from a small hill on which he stood, west towards the mountains. The groups were forming, Eharel ensuring everything was in line, while Melonius was following him around. ‘They seem to get along fine now,’ Avunaia was talking with Avaanel, who was showing her a new species of rabbit the Sweepers found, that were incredibly small, they could fit around thirty inside their palms and some. Avunaia was proposing ways to make them some kind of scouts, while Avaanel argued the complexity behind it, and the inaccuracy these reports would bring. ‘Good, working together to find new ways to live,’ then he switched his gaze upon Menoel. He was staring at him from across the fields between the rivers and mountains. ‘He probably knows, he’s sharp enough,’ he concluded his thoughts.
Once they all gathered and formed the groups, Kilon, Menoel, Eharel and Avaanel stood on top of a taller hill, from which they could speak to all their siblings, whispers and small talk could be heard everywhere. Eharel began “Brothers! Sisters!” his shout resounded across the land. Powerful and loud. “It is nigh time to leave! Thus, Kilon and Menoel shall reveal our next steps!”. Eharel returned to the other three once he fulfilled his role. Kilon nodded to him, and Avaanel stepped up.
“From this point onwards, as I’ve trained my group already, we cannot rely on brute strength and tactics no more! These places present far more intricate and deceptive methods of killing us! Thus! Beyond the careful approach we must undertake in order to survive, we also must adapt using the resources available to us! This is no stranger than it was back in the Shivering Lands, only difference is, we need to feel and try many more things than before!”. She then took a purtoad and a drain vine, showed the same performance as before, this time with a greater understanding and sophistication, to an extent where the drain vine did its job just as much as it was needed, and the poison didn’t spread beyond a small portion of her forearm. This was one of the methods which Kilon wished to be taught to them all as fast as possible, for it was efficient and could save others in case danger may arise. Every Lightborn paid attention to her, some were even thinking of trying it on themselves to see if it really works. Once Avaanel basked in the attention for long enough, she took a couple steps back and got giddy from it.
Menoel then stepped up, his tall stature bringing a sort of presence the two before didn’t have. Not only that, his forever seeking eyes, also were daunting, yet empowering for those looking at them. “Before we arrived here, me and Kilon had a talk,” he didn’t need to scream, his voice was a boom, a reverberation felt throughout the air. “We talked how we may live in these lands, how we may survive,” he glanced back at Kilon, he nodded, then returned to look upon all his siblings. “As Avaanel showed us all, we can find ways to make use of our environment, these lives which aren’t our own. No longer can we simply kill or destroy them, for their force far outnumbers us and their time spent in this world exceeds us for a measure of time which we can’t comprehend.”. Kilon was impressed by Menoel. When they spent time at the Link together, he never would’ve thought his brother would grow so capable and strong. Menoel’s thoughts and reasons not only aligned with Kilon’s, they diverged in useful ways, which took away from his burden of leadership. It would be fair to say that without Menoel’s, the expedition may have been twice, maybe three times as hard as it is. Kilon was thankful for it, that his brother was reaching such a magnitude, that he could rely on him so heavily. “Now!” his voice boomed once more, more power behind it this time. “Not only will we use our environment, we will tame it, make it our own!” his voice had such strength behind, that Eharel felt the need to cover his ears before they would shatter. “Life and death! We are masters over it! Our own or theirs, it’s ours to control, that is what the Creator let us have, and we shall make use of it!” the Lightborns were getting enveloped by a feeling which was rare and was only once felt before, back when Kilon launched the expedition outside the Link. “With our power, we will bend this unjust world so that we may find our place in it!” all the Lightborn started to cheer uncontrollably. Menoel wasn’t clear in what he meant, because it was for Kilon to show.
After Menoel took some steps back, and allowed Kilon to step up, the cheering continued for a few moments, then ceased. ‘Their emotions are connected now as one, all I have to do is show them what those words meant,’ Kilon thought to himself, an awkward silence befell the lands. Kilon simply extended his left hand to his side. Some thought he was pointing to something, most were waiting to see what may happen. Kilon already began, ‘It still takes a bit, but with some practice,’ he thought, then, from below his palm, a plant started to sprout. It was too small for most to see, those at a good angle pointed at it. ‘Everything takes time, this, however, cannot take too long, for it will become our way of living,’ his eyes started to spark with light, his skin and even his hair glowing. Then, the dirt surrounding the plant started to get pushed around, in mere moments, from below the earth, a tree erupted. The trunk was thick, the leaves growing before the tree was fully grown. Every Lightborn, even those other three behind him watched in wonder, as Kilon managed the unimaginable, he created life. While it wasn’t completely true, it’s what the other Lightborn were led to believe, that them, their power, is able to produce that which only their Creator was thought to be possible of making. However, what Kilon didn’t expect after showing this sort of power, is his siblings raising in prayer before him. It wasn’t for the Creator, he could tell, for their heads were not up towards the sky, but facing him. He looked behind, Avaanel and Eharel both did the same, for he did not tell them, something which he only discussed with Menoel.
“Brothers, sist-” before he could finish, Menoel stepped up once again, a smile cornering his face. Kilon didn’t know what he was planning, but he didn’t feel good about it. Then, to his further surprise, Kilon found his hand lifted up by Menoel, the others watching this turning point for this race.
“Listen brethren! This brother of ours, Kilon! The Creator has chosen him!”. Kilon didn’t have the words for it, his face a huge surprise looking at Menoel. Then, looking back at his siblings, he could see how they were all ready to scream in an uproar. Before he could stop this madness which Menoel indulged, Menoel let his voice boom once more “Our leader! Kilon Tihal!”. Tihal, ‘of the light’, in their language. They all repeated his name, ‘Kilon Tihal! Kilon Tihal! Kilon Tihal!’. Their cheering was so loud, Kilon wouldn’t be able to say anything. He looked at them, then Menoel, then to the sky.
‘Am I… the one in the vision?’.183Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwY1Yu32uFd
