Remains of a fire

Chapter 1: Old Legends

Have you heard, of the time, when the mountains didn't weep across the lands for the loss of a friend? An old legend for sure, that reminds us, to pray for the voice that once answered those that were lost.

Maybe, before the wars that had brought ruins to the white fields; those legends were true, and even the creatures of said tales, walked along mortals with pleasure or maybe with anger even silence, yet, one couldn't be sure as history told through tongues is as lost as if it was erased.

"Hey vastaya stop writing and help me out" a rough voice could be heard coming out of a temple in ruins "I'm coming, no need to sound desperate" a young man, with the ears of a white fox and the legs of the same animal stood up, walking towards the temple, he carried a backpack filled to the brim with paper and ink "I SURE HOPE YOU GUYS FOUND SOMETHING INTERESTING"

"GUYS" screamed one of the avarosan, one of the few friendly tribes, "DO YOU THINK IF WE BRING HIM TO A FOX SHAMAN THEY WILL GIVES US MONEY" A bunch of laughs could be heard, "I'm pretty sure I could convince them to work for me, might be a better deal then you guys" and everything went quiet.

"You piltovians don't have humor" "No we do, paying you guys is pretty funny", the footsteps of the group echoed through the giant chamber, halls not meant only for the people of the past, illuminated with fountains of molten rocks, they lead to the core of the temple.

A room, with various forges, spread all around with the main focus being an anvil made of the rock that mountains were made of, sculpted almost into perfection. The historian vastaya gleamed at the sight of the room, running around with a pen; drawing with utmost detail every single corner of the room

"I'll never understand your fascination with old rocks, I'm pretty sure my ma' already told me every single story that you could get from these ruins" said a man in the group; "Yet they are changed through the tongues, but the stories told in stone will always be there mostly"

The fox vastayan flew through the room, "Here let me tell you the difference between, stories and history, Why did the god leave the Freljord?". The group stayed silent until the oldest one talked "They left, angered by the new ways that spread through the lands", This surprised the group because the same ways he spoke of, were brought by him and his tribe.

"Wouldn't you know it, the avarosan complaining" "No don't get me wrong fox, I would fight again for those new ways but I'm not afraid to tell the truth". The "truth" that word set the vastayan off, as only what could be described as a hurricane the ruins ended coerced in ink "The old man, speaks of the truth, and yet the walls say that which actually happened"

As the hurricane calmed down, a giant roll of paper appeared, the vastayan sat on the anvil in the middle with a smug face "My dear avarosans, have you ever heard? no have you ever read? that of the great wars that your gods fought; of the time that two brothers once in anger came to peace, of the flood that painted in red through waters of purple, and the stars that vanished allies as not to fear what they couldn't control? if not, lend an ear to this fox, for the story that will unveil"

Honed, the man that once stood at the top of the forge, a god in the form of a goat, laid now silent for that which brought him pride had fallen, the blood under the snow who he had considered his own slayed by the brother that brought the storm.

In his silence, a single promise was said, and with a single hit with the hammer that promise was kept, a sound at the mountain which echoed through the frozen land came and the swords of ice were lifted.

This promise of black ice, so strong to reignite bonds broken in families, led to the voices of the giants, that every shaman could hear with rejoice that those who stood at the top brought certain victory in a flood that ravaged the land.

From the bear to the fox, From the goat to the elk; those who once stood at the top of this land gathered, and even the war between the fire and the storm came to a stop at the sight of the void, who by their hands were sealed swiftly at the demise of the ice witch, even expanding to different land, each spirit sought to help their cousins.

Yet the stars watched with caution, for as grateful as they were, they had seen creatures, ones imprisoned within weapons, claim demihood as those spirits from the frozen lands did.

As the stars learned more about those in spirits, their fears grew but even they learned a lesson when they chained the star-forger, that no power should be sealed but rather disposed of.

The idea of vanishment grew for, unlike the spirits in the land of living woods, those from the ice didn't seek a balance but rather war as even the bear had already fought for his place against mortals; and so they knew what to be done.

The sky now in accordance tricked the spirits of the frozen land, for as soon as they championed, a lie was said, to give them a land that only they would be able to rule.

As in desperation the bear, first to accept, disappeared followed by the phoenix in search of peace and the rest followed for they wished for sanctuary, at last, the goat crossed silently, with no anchor to hold them in the land.

As to where they left, only the stars know, and their followers can only pray they come back, for the gods do not need followers; followers need gods.

"As to where the gods are, only they know, and that story isn't for me to narrate" The fox jumped down, with the avarosans astonished, as their tongues had only spread a lie.

Note: I am back, hope you guys enjoy this rewrite