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Before the moon was set in orbit around the Earth. A race existed, born of Mother Earth, her original sons and daughters. The race was called the Gaian’s. There were ten of them in all. Created for the sole purpose of shepherding the dawn of life. The blood of the Gaian’s was the very essence of life itself. And they were given sharp knifes by Mother Earth, and told to shed their blood over the land. When their task was complete they would return to the Earth to slumber until the end of time.
The Eldest of the Gaian’s didn’t think the arrangement with Mother Earth was fair and so he asked his mother, “Why do you give us life, if only to put us to sleep for eternity?”
“Without the slumber, I have given you nothing.” His mother replied.
But he still didn’t understand.
So he turned to his brothers and sisters and said, “Why should we give our blood to the world when it offers us nothing in return?”
They didn’t share his point of view, but they could do nothing to change it. Nothing they said could make him understand, and so he committed to keep his blood to himself, living in seclusion until the time his gift was taken away.
Many eons later, after life began to sprout. His youngest brother sought him out in his domain. Hoping that he could change his brother’s mind. Showing him how life was shaping up. Even though life was still very simple at this time, it was still very beautiful. And he thought its beauty would transform his brother’s hate into love. His visit had an opposite effect. Because life was so beautiful, the brute saw just how precious it was. It made him even more furious. Keeping his own blood from the world wasn’t enough anymore. And so with the knife he was given by Mother Earth, he cut the life from his youngest brother, and then drank of his precious blood so the world couldn’t have it. And with the death of his youngest brother he made a vow. That he would keep the rest of the Gaian’s blood from spilling back to the Earth.
Mother Earth bore witness to his brutal deed, and heard his vile pact. The fall of her eldest son broke her heart. The broken piece fell spinning into space and turned grey. She kept the piece by her side to remind her of his treachery. And with this she learned hate, and her core turned hot and boiled to the surface. She shook in anger, and it pushed jagged rocks into the sky. But she could not stop him, watching the world unfold has always been her burden.
He crusaded the world, navigating through the changed land. Taking the lives of his brothers and sisters, then drinking their blood one by one until only one was left. His middle sister, Alana, and he plunged the knife into her back the same as if she were the first. Holding it in with a close embrace. She whispered her last laden words into his ear as he held her standing.
“It was our mothers wish that we shed our sacred blood over this stark land. And so I have. Never understanding her gift until this moment. Now I go to sleep proud. Knowing that what cannot die has never lived.”
She died in his arms, liberated and fulfilled. The message touched him, and he too finally understood the words his mother said. He let his sister’s body fall, bleeding into the Earth.
The blood flowed from her. Not from the wound, but from every pour in her body. She was so full of lifeblood that before long it created a great pool. From that very spot life began to bloom, weaving the first complex creatures, and all in her image.
Trying to make amends for his foolishness, he set out to finish the work started by his siblings. Shedding his blood across the land. But when he cut himself with Mother Earth’s knife, his veins were empty. Mother Earth took her gift back from him, leaving him an abomination. Not alive, and unable to die, until the time realm switched back to void.
Things didn’t seem bad at first. Enough of the Gaian’s work was done for evolution to take the lead and fill all the land with life. And in reparation to Mother Earth, he lent it a guiding hand. Until many millennia later when he grew old and tired. Begging his mother for mercy.
“Mother, I have worked harder than any of my siblings. And now the work is done. And I beg you to return the blood to my dry veins, so that I may spill it and sleep at your side”
Mother Earth said back to him, “Your maw is stained with the blood of my sons and daughters. And I forsake you. You gave up the cycle when you drank the potion of life. You will never sleep, you will never dream, and you shall be nameless. For those are the things of mortals.”
These were the last words ever spoke between mother and son.
Permanent consciousness was his curse. There is no sign of a cure. He spends the billions of years he was allotted a recluse, toiling with machines and alchemy. Twisted and bent inside, every second tears at him blunting his once sharp mind. Exponentially decreasing his chances of ever devising the serum he needs to go back to the dreaming. His only remaining hope is that time has an end.
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