08-05-2018, 12:55 AM
the Rift
It was like a forest of sorts, blended nicely with the soft cushion of a meadow-like undergrowth. Everything grew in harmony, in a beautifully blended mix of glowing hues and life. And it screamed health. While the rest of the Rift tended to be dark and overbearing, a sense of dread to encompass all those that dwelled within it, the Glowworm Woods were unlike anything else. Life, health, happiness; promise.
Perhaps that is why the Fey had called it home when their numbers had been threatened. They had tried for so long to survive, to imbue their magic and healing into the rest of the Rift. But they were picked off, slowly at first, but then faster and faster and faster until there were hardly any of them left. So they went into hiding, and the expanse of the Heated Heart that had been covered in darkness for a time helped to fix their numbers. They were slowing growing, returning to a healthy amount of them, and a few set off to return to their task of healing the Rift.
But they decided to start small, instead of tackling it like a whole, the three little Fey danced around a small sick tree whose leaves, despite Freeze, were turning black as charcoal and barely surviving the winds and the ice. Luckily for the tree, the Fey were brilliant at what they did. They tended to the leaves, humming and singing their songs, giggling with one another while somehow managing to create a bubble of warmth around this certain tree.
“Talk.”
Perhaps that is why the Fey had called it home when their numbers had been threatened. They had tried for so long to survive, to imbue their magic and healing into the rest of the Rift. But they were picked off, slowly at first, but then faster and faster and faster until there were hardly any of them left. So they went into hiding, and the expanse of the Heated Heart that had been covered in darkness for a time helped to fix their numbers. They were slowing growing, returning to a healthy amount of them, and a few set off to return to their task of healing the Rift.
But they decided to start small, instead of tackling it like a whole, the three little Fey danced around a small sick tree whose leaves, despite Freeze, were turning black as charcoal and barely surviving the winds and the ice. Luckily for the tree, the Fey were brilliant at what they did. They tended to the leaves, humming and singing their songs, giggling with one another while somehow managing to create a bubble of warmth around this certain tree.
“Talk.”