- Local time
- Today 2:06 AM
- Messages
- 200
There has never been an exact date,
Only the knowledge that the village formed dozens of generations ago.
In a forest that runs parallel to the reality of the outside
The people stay secluded, away from the world.
No one dares enter the forest surrounding the village, for no one
Has returned from the depths of the branches and shadows.
As time has gone on, the people have grown desperate and hungry.
Bushes have shriveled, and wildlife no longer emerges into the vicinity.
In the center of the village stands their last hope for salvation: A candle of grand proportions.
Towering over the people, the wax has sat cool since the nomads of ancient generations
Settled here.
The time had finally come for the candle to burn once again.
As the people lit the wick, the candle burst into great flames that were difficult to peer into,
Even in broad daylight. Nothing seemed to happen though for the first couple days,
Until a villager pointed something out.
On this day, an object begins to protrude from the melting wax; an unfamiliar shaped package tied with a thin string. Inside, is the beginning to both salvation, and the corruption of the people.
The village elder chooses someone to open the wax covered package.
He has chosen Jolah, a young girl who lost her father at birth when he walked into the forest and never returned. Now, she stands before the people, about to unveil the gift the candle has presented them.
Untying the string, she opens the box.
Only the knowledge that the village formed dozens of generations ago.
In a forest that runs parallel to the reality of the outside
The people stay secluded, away from the world.
No one dares enter the forest surrounding the village, for no one
Has returned from the depths of the branches and shadows.
As time has gone on, the people have grown desperate and hungry.
Bushes have shriveled, and wildlife no longer emerges into the vicinity.
In the center of the village stands their last hope for salvation: A candle of grand proportions.
Towering over the people, the wax has sat cool since the nomads of ancient generations
Settled here.
The time had finally come for the candle to burn once again.
As the people lit the wick, the candle burst into great flames that were difficult to peer into,
Even in broad daylight. Nothing seemed to happen though for the first couple days,
Until a villager pointed something out.
On this day, an object begins to protrude from the melting wax; an unfamiliar shaped package tied with a thin string. Inside, is the beginning to both salvation, and the corruption of the people.
The village elder chooses someone to open the wax covered package.
He has chosen Jolah, a young girl who lost her father at birth when he walked into the forest and never returned. Now, she stands before the people, about to unveil the gift the candle has presented them.
Untying the string, she opens the box.