[lore] Elegy of Leaf
Great Cities are not the first to rise from stone and soil. Pearls in the vast tapestry of world map, yet barely touched.
As Yaraga descended from freezing North, the spread along the lands they found. New to them in every trait.
And as they walked, those strongest and most fit guided their steps. Kings, lords, rulers of many names and titles.
Till Sun Dynasty took it's root, they were names uncounted and unchallenged.
And as first among first, who was named the Sovereign, rose his head, these lords lowered theirs. Many gave their crowns on their own, some decided to remain, few aimed to rebel.
All and each - following their desires, whatever those might've been. Hopes, dismay, wishing for something, lust for challenge...
As once they held their swords and shields to guard against a foe, their statues cover themselves from time these days, in vain. Still there, mocking the sky and leaves with their spears and sundered scepters. Mute memories etched in stones.
Yaraga discard what once was, they don't keep records. Or, better to say, they do and even guard them -but never turn to them.
What was taught by forefathers - is shaped and told in tales, in books of art and craft, in manifests and etchings of law on cities' stelas.
But not their names.
What was - is meant to become fertile soil.
There is no song more beckoning than that of yore and past. For there is nothing to fear in there. No burden of responsibility or choice. No doubts, for nothing is in hands of living. Nothing to answer for, for nothing can be answered. What could've happen - happened.
And fertile land should not become a grave...
And as they walked, those strongest and most fit guided their steps. Kings, lords, rulers of many names and titles.
Till Sun Dynasty took it's root, they were names uncounted and unchallenged.
And as first among first, who was named the Sovereign, rose his head, these lords lowered theirs. Many gave their crowns on their own, some decided to remain, few aimed to rebel.
All and each - following their desires, whatever those might've been. Hopes, dismay, wishing for something, lust for challenge...
As once they held their swords and shields to guard against a foe, their statues cover themselves from time these days, in vain. Still there, mocking the sky and leaves with their spears and sundered scepters. Mute memories etched in stones.
Yaraga discard what once was, they don't keep records. Or, better to say, they do and even guard them -but never turn to them.
What was taught by forefathers - is shaped and told in tales, in books of art and craft, in manifests and etchings of law on cities' stelas.
But not their names.
What was - is meant to become fertile soil.
There is no song more beckoning than that of yore and past. For there is nothing to fear in there. No burden of responsibility or choice. No doubts, for nothing is in hands of living. Nothing to answer for, for nothing can be answered. What could've happen - happened.
And fertile land should not become a grave...
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"Wretched Sun" website:
wretchedsun.com/
Support, services and rewards (much appreciated^^):
www.patreon.com/wretchedsun
boosty.to/wretchedsun
Discord server with exclusive supporters' channels:
discord.gg/dqpEXe7Bwz
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