The cheerful melodies of bountiful crops and earnest hearths bounded in great leaps and gallant skips through the surrounding air.
The people dance and rejoice, ever giving to the endless feast that awaits them.
Them.
The predestined fate that awaits these blessed lands. One so gladly recieved as it joins solid ground.
Yet what people deserve such holy fate? What people could ever be so deserving of the vessel for all that is good and pure?
To the naked eye, you may see joyful souls, long deserving of the blessing of the gods, souls that lean towards the favors of each and every whim that the fickle gods may have.
But who said that gods only favor all that is holy? Why, just like you and I, who have no care for the uniform apparitions of a society that is one minded.
Why, just like us, who indulged in fantastical pleasures of stories and legends, things we selfishly gourge on, as our little minds spill over the edge of excitement for trivial pleasures.
As the gods may not be akin to anything in this fleeting world of passage. But, the gods created everything we needlessly consider commonplace objects, the gods created us. The gods created everything we were to see today, but if that were the case, who would we be modeled after, if not the very gods themselves?
And if so, as human as they are, who daresay that they would not simply chase after the fleeting dreams we wish for too? The need for endless excitement and their everlasting lifespans, so what would be the need for trivial things such as the lust we humans have in finding comfort in our morality?
As such, would the anguish of lost, and decline of morality and personhood, be more entertaining to the ones we serve?
Yet no one seems to heed such degrading thoughts. As we hear the blessed ringing of the baby's cry. As the bearer of the vessel cries and screams for the same reason, to live.
But all is unheard as the townspeople rejoice in the welcoming sound of new, fresh, pure and untouched life.
Reaching hands try to pry the baby from each one another, one frail and fading.
As the vessel of purity gained its sullied position in the circle which we call life, all cries of despair finally ended, and loud cheers resounded through the town.
And the celebration of new life began.
