Book of The Lightborn: Rise

Worth Living

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?".