Chapitre 8: Chapter VIII - The Lone Legend
"Ten thousand four hundred and twenty years ago..." Reo begins, "The first gods walked upon the barren land of when this world was first formed...
Seven were assigned by the heavens to nourish the new earth at their feet, seven young divine deities entrusted with the future of the land...that's was what to become as know now...put into their hands.
One brought on the water to the land, flooding the pits and valleys to form the oceans and the seas in seven days of unrelenting storms. Another raised mountains, the terrain, to create land we can stand on. One sowed the earth, growing the first vegetation. Another blew as the wind, carrying the seeds far and wide. One was the natural flames, renewing nature with their fire, making room for new plants in the ashes of the previous.
The other two gods acted as the peacemakers, making compromises and preventing tension between the gods themselves, always reminding them to not stray from the path they had set on. One raised dawn and day, while the other brought night and dark.
With these basics of the life cycle, the land thrived.
The gods became known as- the Primal.
Over eons, the Primal's power was in every fiber of life, intertwined with reality itself, acting as natural wells of magic.
For millennials, the gods coexisted with each other, some were close, while others avoided their fellow deities.
But the peace didn't last, one of the gods grew hot-headed and presumptuous, and suddenly seized the desire to force his hand as the land's one and only ruling god. His fires engulfed the earth as his hunger for world domination grew.
He set a goal in his mind, either the other gods kneel, or they will be slaughtered by his own hand.
Some were fooled by his seemly clever and charming facade, who were all murdered in cold blood when they had their guard down the most.
Two were slain, one was tricked, another mysteriously disappeared. With the gods of water, earth, nature, and wind out of his way, he set his eyes on the most powerful of them all-the primals of light and night.
The moonlight shone upon his figure as he crept up upon one who was asleep, did not make two steps before the other held him by his neck, the god of the night.
In the end, he succeeded in killing the second to final god in his way but failed to see the next of his plans.
With the night primal's fury of the downfall of their comrades, they fought.
The result became that the primal of fire, his essence as a divine being, expelled into oblivion and set to never return.
In that period, the land became known as Inciqne, with the ashes of the fallen primeval- victims to the flames of the traitor amongst them, it is the Land of The Fallen Ashes.
The sole survivor was now known as the Primeval.
Also as a result of the battle between the two gods, the one colossal continent the ancient world once was, was broken into five smaller continents-more closely resembling the world we know now.
The Primal of Seven, reduced to one, the sole protector of this world from the original assigned. They walk the earth alone, overseeing the nation's growth from the eyes of a mortal.
As the last of the primal forever tied to their original commitments, their duties as one never cease to end, now with no one of kin, they alone shoulder the demons of the dark side. The sorrow and grief from the loss of their fellow gods that once walked with them and their loneliness took form as dark spirits...that was to become, the base of chaos. In due time.
The Primeval soon vanished, never for the nation to see in broad daylight ever again, little do they know.
The nation was split into two factions, those that use the light branch of magic, the elves, and humans, and the other, the dark branch, the demons.
Demons like us- forever tainted in the light of the past. Painted as vicious and wicked beings, creatures of the dark, unfairly given superhuman abilities, which runs in our blood and had been ever since the first man walked this earth.
Turned away at every turn, our hate, a scarlet sprout in the ash-soiled dirt, watered by our sorrow, pain, and our tears- grew and flourished, until it bore its fruits-
A bloodstained era of war and destruction."
The traces of the silvery line vanishes as she finishes.
I stare at the place the light had sketched the air, enraptured in the story created by it and Reo's narration.
The sun glints in Reo's eye as she looks up quietly at the fading blue sky, exhaling softly.
She laughs to herself, "Well that's just a legend they told me as a child, I thought you would be interested to hear it. It had been lost with time, as oral tradition starts to fade, the ones published in the text that is open for the public to see, aren't accurate to account." She shakes her head, "and they say there's still more to the story."
"Also if you had noticed, when the legend is told right, the remnants of the Primals essence will aid in illustrating the story, they are everywhere, after all. Their power lingers for eons to come, until, the very end." She grins at me, "Aint that fun?"
I nod slowly, my body tingling with furor as I think back on her words.
Reo tilts her head towards the sun, "Well, it's almost time for me to go now. The council meeting was in..." She jumps up, "Five minutes! Shoot...I'm late..." She runs off waving back at me.
"I will see you later newbie! Consider the clubbb!"
I watch as her form disappears into the building, a warm breeze tousles my hair, rustling my clothes as my gaze flicks up towards the skies, the sun nearing the edge of the horizon as it starts to set.
"The Primeval...I wonder..."
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
Yuro
Yuro If you enjoyed this chapter please help support the novel by voting with power stones. All comments are appreciated, they show me that you, the readers are enjoying the novel, which will in turn fuel my motivation to continue~ I do accept criticism as they will help me improve! Thanks for reading! („ - ᴗ -„)
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