[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/uPTBuPR.png?1[/img][/center] [hr] [indent][sub][i]Year of the Heist | Year of the Sudi'Shrib[/i][/sub][/indent] Even weeks after the god with chopstick eyes showed Ya-Shuur how to extract goatmilk and make it into gim-sa by fermenting it and mixing it with honey from the butterwort, the demigod still found the process flabbergasting. They made it throughout the spring and soon had enough to last the rest of the year. For his part, Ya-Shuur now kept a goatskin full of gim-sa at his side all the time and could often be seen taking a small drink during his long treks across the grand old island of Be'r-Jaz. Sat on a hill, viewing his goats browsing in the lightly forested valley while also trying to stay out of the incessant rain, he spotted the god with chopstick eyes staring at an odd bird bursting with color. After a while shes lost interest in the bird and seemed to become suddenly very interested in something else that Ya-Shuur could not quite see because it was obstructed by rocks and trees. No sooner had the god with chopstick eyes disappeared after whatever it was, the bird turned and dashed towards Ya-Shuur. It stopped in the air before him and he could now see that it was indeed very large. It was bursting with an effervescent violet color and other shades of purple and blue and turquoise. Oddly the bird had braces made of the same material as Ya-Shuur's hud-sa (metal, Ya-Shuur knew it was called) along its wings and there was lodged in it a single beautiful stone. Its face seemed to be made of white rock, and there were three more beautiful stones lodged into its head. One was above the forehead and the other two were over each of its eyes. The bird then surprised Ya-Shuur by speaking and warning him about possibly graphic footage in the ensuing projection, unsuitable for children or easily disturbed adults. Then there were suddenly two strange creatures, who Ya-Shuur instinctively knew to be goddesses, stood atop the back of a great whale against the backdrop of the furnaces that Ya-Shuur remembered from the time of his genesis. [color=lightblue]“Good people of Galbar I bring you grave news and the tools to claim your freedom. Each and everyone of you has an immortal soul, the essence of your being that contains your mind and memories. This soul is the very core of your being, more vital to your existence than the the flesh or stone which you inhabit. Even if you perish you will live on though this soul, and yet Katharsos, the tyrant of death, has decreed that your souls, once severed from flesh should be put to the flame and turned into the ash that form new souls. Untold billions have already been put to the flame. The souls for the void who came here with those you know as gods were the first to be incinerated. If Katharsos were to continue his genocide unopposed all who were born from their remains will also be sent to his infernal stars. ”[/color] The projection zoomed in on one of the furnaces and displayed the soul of a creature Ya-Shuur had never seen before being sucked into its fire, and its screech joined the scream that began when the world began and would only ever cease when the world ceased. [color=lightblue]“Yet all is not lost. I, Azura, have created the Alma, constructs of flesh, metal, stone and soul, whose power you may use to save your soul from destruction. Each and everyone has the ability to crystallize the souls of the dead into a solid form that resists the pull of the tyrant Katharsos.”[/color] The said soul crystal was suddenly displayed, [color=lightblue]“To become crystallized is to sleep a dreamless sleep, one from which you will be awoken when the time is right and the means are perfected. Till their rebirth soul crystals will be kept at secret locations, hidden from the tyrant's grasp and protected from any who might seek to steal them away. To do this however the Alma require your consent. To take your souls without permission would be a grave abuse of power and a violation of your autonomy. One I have sadly already committed to save those here at the pyres. It is a sin that weighs heavy on my heart so I ask you, I beg you, please people of Galbar, when your time comes let the Alma help you. Please use them to save yourselves! For only by your own wills can you set yourselves free!”[/color] The projection brought back the memory of the time he first heard the scream, and this caused Ya-Shuur to frown. Once upon a time, he had been the scream. It had all horrified him back then and it horrified him still, but back then he had been young and confused, overwhelmed by it all and helpless to do anything. He had not understood the why of it. But now it seemed that someone - this Azura and her silent companion - had decided to do something about it. They had the power to act and had acted. Ya-Shuur could respect that, especially since they thought they were acting for the betterment of all. The only question on Ya-Shuur's mind was whether it actually was for the betterment of all. The burning seemed absolutely terrible, but he was not sure if locking oneself in a stone could be called freedom - especially if one was depending on "the right time" and the "perfected means" to ever be reborn. It seemed that when one burned they ceased to exist altogether, which was arguably better than the possibility of eternal imprisonment. "Freedom..." Ya-Shuur murmured, "by your own will can you set yourself free," he repeated Azura's words. The bird stared at Ya-Shuur for a few moments, seemingly waiting on his response. Ultimately, it was not so much the subject matter that swayed Ya-Shuur's decision but the way in which Azura had chosen to convey it: It was utterly one-sided. [i]Quarrels never could last long, if on one side only lay the wrong[/i]. And so Ya-Shuur found that no rational and logical conclusion could be achieved from such faulty evidence. It would have been better if Azura had simply presented the facts and let those speak for themselves. To the rational and logical mind, truth sufficed itself. Ya-Shuur took a swig from his goatskin bag. "Thank you, bird. I must look further into this. I will let you know my answer when I have done so." And at that exact moment Ya-Shuur heard the shout of the god with chopstick eyes: [color=blanchedalmond]"BUTTERWORT IN MIDSUMMER!"[/color] And her laughter echoed across all the land and made Ya-Shuur laugh too. He left the colorful bird and made towards where Butterwort in Midsummer's voice had come from. But when he got there he found only a molf with a sticky substance all over its coat. Ya-Shuur looked here and there, and he walked all over the valley and across the hills. But Midsummer was over, and Butterwort was gone. - [indent][sub][i]1-10 Years After the Heist | 1-10 Years after the Sudi'Shrib[/i][/sub][/indent] For years now strange, colorful birds had been migrating to the island in huge numbers and they had been bringing about great changes. Ya-Shuur sat and watched them sometimes, and he listened too. A great majority of them seemed to have taken up residence in Li'Kalla's ruined mansion, and Ya-Shuur often heard them on the occasions that he passed by on his unending walk. He could see that the birds were bringing about change. At first this had perturbed him somewhat and he had watched with anxiety all that they were doing. But as first a year and then two years passed, and the island did not seem to suffer due to these changes but only increased in beauty and life, his anxiety gave way to peace. Transition was always difficult, change always brought about some level of tension. The island had been disturbed by the coming of these birds, and so Ya-Shuur had also been disturbed. But now that the island had grown accustomed to them, all was harmony. And Ya-Shuur, like Be'r-Jaz (for Be'r-Jaz was an extension of him, he an extension of it), was at peace. Amongst the changes was the sudden growth of red and purple grasses, in addition to the native green grass of Be'r-Jaz. Ya-Shuur's goats had found these colorful grasses wonderfully curious and for some months ate them wherever they found them. But soon they were common enough as to not be a curiosity and the goats returned to their browsing ways. They continued to like the redgrass though, and when Ya-Shuur tasted it he was surprised to find that it was quite sweet. This gave him an idea, and when spring next came he crushed its juices and mixed it with some of the gim-sa, along with the butterwort honey. Too sweet! So Ya-Shuur took to making some with butterwort honey and some with redgrass juices. It provided some variety. Fields also burst with new kinds of flowers with colors and shapes and sizes Ya-Shuur had never seen before - and neither had his goats! They could be seen tasting each type of flower, sometimes petal by petal like some strange vegetation connoisseurs. One day one of the goats chewed and pulled at an unappetising weed, and Ya-Shuur was surprised when it pulled it out completely to reveal a thick, orange root. When Ya-Shuur found one of his own and tasted it he found it rather good and ever so slightly sweet. With his goats leading this food discovery crusade, Ya-Shuur had soon discovered a number of interesting vegetables and fruits with a plethora of tastes and uses. He had never really thought much about food and drink before Butterwort in Midsummer gave him that cup of sudi-shrib. He had her to thank for exposing him to this world of new possibilities. It was good to have friends. He determined that when he next saw her he would have an equally beautiful gift for her. Then one day, many years later, birds came screeching across the sky about "flying lizards" and "shooting giants" and "burning forests". Not long after that, Ya-Shuur saw thousands of those birds flying away from the island in the same way that they had originally come to it nearly a decade before. Some remained, but they were far fewer. And Li'Kalla's mansion was empty once more. - [indent][sub][i] 39 Years After the Heist | 39 Years after the Sudi'Shrib[/i][/sub][/indent] It had been a long time since his walking had brought him to the ruins of Li'Kalla's mansion, his first home. For all his walking and all the years, seeing it still brought to him a degree of pain and regret. It was silent now and utterly deserted. Ya-Shuur thought that it had been better if the birds had stayed in it and filled it with their singing and screeching. That wildness and noise was better than this gaping, accusing silence. It was a silence that spoke and was heavy on Ya-Shuur's chest - [i]you abandoned me![/i] But such thinking is no good, Ya-Shuur reminded himself. With two of molves at his side, his goatskin gim-sa bag, and his walking stick, he made slowly towards the ruins. Standing before them, he surveyed the ruins and the damage dealt by time and the birds and his own - failed - attempt so long ago to rebuild the mansion. Ya-Shuur thought that it had been better if he had tried again back then. It had been better if he had erected it once more in honor of his mother and in honor of the beautiful memories. It would have made him a better son, a more dutiful one, than he was. But such thinking is no good, Ya-Shuur reminded himself again. He left the ruins and made for the lake, and he stared into its depths and saw only his bearded, horned reflection. Brown curls fell to his lower back and the beard trailed down to his hips, while the horns had grown even larger. His complexion was now as pale as he remembered Li'Kalla's had been. Honey colored eyes stared accusingly out at him, and he remembered how he had gained this form exactly as Li'Kalla had lost hers. It was almost like it had been a theft. Maybe it had been. Theft and murder. The honey eyes hardened and he looked away. "But such thinking is no good," he whispered as he moved on. Then he paused and looked towards the entrance to her domain, the So'E. It had been a long, long time since he had last been in there. Butterwort in Midsummer had said there was no longer a beast in there. He walked towards it, his molves moaning in slight discomfort the closer he walked to the gate. They could sense the concentration of divine energies. Many gods had been here over the years, even if Ya-Shuur had not seen them. Memories of Vakk's assault came to him as he walked inside. He saw parts of the mansion's wooden door that the tentacled god had smashed open. Ya-Shuur remembered his weakness then. And even now, he knew, he was weak before the power of divines like Vakk and Butterwort in Midsummer, and even Li'Kalla who - for all her power - had perished. He remembered his inability to help despite desperately wishing to, remembered her screams and struggles, remembered Vakk's terrible words that day, remembered the blood and remembered the tears. And he remembered how he had turned tail and run away like the coward and hypocrite he was. He brought a hand to his eyes and breathed deeply. "Such thinking..." he murmured under his breath. Such thinking was no good. The past was over and beyond his power. It was beyond the power of everyone. Ya-Shuur suspected that it was even beyond the power of the gods. "Not even the gods can change the past," he murmured absent-mindedly. He looked up, "but the present is the prize of the son of the moment." For many months Ya-Shuur worked away inside the So'E, recreating Li'Kalla's mansion as he remembered it, removing the shrubs and weeds and plants and moss that had grown within and banishing all the little creatures that now called the goddess' home their own. Once done, he found himself stood staring at her reconstructed bed. He remembered unsmilingly how Li'Kalla would laugh and play so innocently here, remembered how she had fallen asleep that day. Neither he nor she had ever thought it would all go so... wrong. He breathed slow, banished the thoughts, and calmed himself. Such thoughts only brought about pain - pain over things that were (and were now even more so) outside his control. All he could control was on this island and even on this island he could not control all things at all times. He could not control the weather and make it stop raining all the time. He could not control who came and who went. Could not control such changes as the birds had brought about on the island. All he could truly control was himself and his soul. That was the only thing in all the world he had real control over. He did not have control over the past and those gods who killed each other and did injustice, and he did not have control over whether he had indeed contributed or even caused Li'Kalla's death, so what was the point in worrying about all that and being in pain? He would solve all the things within his control and power to solve, and those things that were out of his control he would not worry or feel guilty about. He was a limited being and he could only hope to excel within the confines of his limited nature. Limited, true, but he aspired to be an excellent limited being. On his island there was felicity, and had been for decades now. He had every right to be at complete peace, for at no point had he ever abdicated his responsibility to the island and its denizens. That was enough for him. He looked again at the bed, and he was struck with the image of Li'Kalla playing in the snow. She had known happiness and joy in those little pleasures, had Li'Kalla... and what use had that been? Pleasure faded, joy evaporated, and in their place pain took up residence. It was a saddening reality, but Ya-Shuur banished the sadness and did not allow it into his heart. True happiness and felicity is not brought about by such pleasures, Ya-Shuur reasoned to himself. Li'Kalla was evidence of that. While the simple mind sought pleasure, believing happiness to lie there, the rational and logical mind rejected it as the standard of happiness and felicity. Happiness and felicity are to be had in principles, in standing up for something, in refusing to abdicate one's moral responsibility. Death was not to be feared, neither was pain, or any of the vicissitudes of the condition of all beings. "I will do my best to constantly do what I ought to do," Ya-Shuur said to the empty room. In that lay happiness and ultimate felicity. "Goodbye, mother," he said, and he turned and left. - [indent][sub][i] 45 Years After the Heist | 45 Years after the Sudi'Shrib[/i][/sub][/indent] Ya-Shuur sat on a high cliff overlooking the sea to one side, and to the other a great expanse of southern Be'r-Jaz spread out before him. It was raining as usual. His goats were browsing far below, protected by the molves. All was as it ought to be. [hider=Summary]Ya-Shuur really likes the fermented goatmilk (gim-sa) Chopstick Eyes taught him how to make. He now has a a goatskin at his side all the time full of the stuff. He now makes enough every spring for the rest of the year. An alma comes to Ya-Shuur and tells him about Katharsos' crimes. Ya-Shuur thinks about it, but he is ultimately not convinced because the projection just seems like one-sided propaganda, and he believes a truly rational decision cannot be made from it. He then hears Chopstick Eyes shout out her soulname and he goes looking for her. But she is gone. The Gemstone Gardeners bring all kinds of new plants and changes to Be'r-Jaz and both Ya-Shuur and his goats react to them. Amongst these reactions is Ya-Shuur's experimentation with the sweet redgrass to extract sweet juices and mix it with the gim-sa to create a new sweet taste. It is a replacement to the butterwort honey, as used with it makes the gim-sa too sweet for Ya-Shuur's liking. Then the birds leave one day and Li'Kalla's mansion is all empty again. Ya-Shuur visits Li'Kalla's mansion and reminsces on her and his various regrets and failures with regards to Li'Kalla. He rebuilds Li'Kalla's mansion and we see some of his duty-driven philosophy of happiness towards the end. Seeming to have made his peace with Li'Kalla to some degree, he bids his (regrets regarding his) mother farewell. All is as it ought to be on the island. 5/5 for Justice ✔ 5/5 for Animal Domestication ✘ 0/5 for Truth ✘ 0/5 for Retribution ✘ 0/5 for Law ✘[/hider] [hider=Might Points and Free Points] Ya-Shuur has 4 Might points and 4 Free points and he didn't use anything in this post. [/hider]