[center][h1]Sylia[/h1][/center]

[hr]

Two silver hands cupped the regolith of the lifeless world. The anomaly in a place that had not yet begun to be. It was unwelcoming. Unsustaining. Useless. It made the silvered Goddess wonder at the intent behind it. If there had been such a thing at all. Her thumbs circled in the gray soil, feeling every rough texture and particle of dust. The sensation imprinted itself upon her mind but it felt hollow. There was nothing organic within. No small makers. No waiting seeds. They simply did not exist yet. Just empty plains.

She tipped her hands, pulling back and watched as the soil became suspended in the air. Without an atmosphere this place was but a barren rock suspended in the unborn. She began to walk, hands pressed behind her back as she gazed out at what was and what could be. She was struck with an odd sort of melancholy. Her earlier bout with the Khodex had left her unfulfilled. Perhaps this place was just a reflection of her own state of being? She kicked at a rock and watched it go sailing off into the dark sky. Well, not so dark with all the Veins. Much had been added to the Khodex and more yet would be inscribed but despite all of that, its full potential was not reached. Perhaps it never would.

Sylia’s gaze shifted once more, back across the dull world. She was of the Material and one of the few who would add any sort of real substance to the world, once it bloomed with her gift. The Immaterial existed, yes, but without the physical presence of those who could harness its capabilities, how useful could it be? She raised her chin and ran her hands through her flowing hair. She had been touched by the Khodex’s promise, no longer a body of the Immaterial would she wear. Silvered and shining, flowing as if molten whilst retaining blessed shape. 

She went to kick another stone but paused and bending down she took it in her hand. A flake of a once larger piece, composed of numerous fragments and bound together by their matrix. Her finger slid down the edge, feeling the jagged and smooth texture. 

“What would you be, if you could dream?” She asked the rock, rubbing her finger over its surface. A smile formed upon her lips. “Perhaps a metal? Maybe a temple? A mountain? A grain of sand? Or…” he voice faded as she took the rock within the palm of her hand and using her other palm, pressed. 

There was a faint glow from within her hand, followed by a hiss and when she opened them- “A gem.” She breathed. 

She held it up and it caught the light of the cosmic veins and shimmered. An uncut diamond no bigger than her knuckle. An object not made to beat and break but to merely exist. To be looked at and coveted. 

Had the rock dreamt of this? Could it have wanted this, if it could ask? To be anything but what it was?

Those questions did not cross Sylia’s mind. 

Not as she erected a stone plinth. Not as she cut the gem. Not as she placed that perfect jewel upon its pedestal. Not as she left the first mineral in existence to its fate.

[i]Not ever.[/i]

[hider=Summary]
Sylia finds herself drawn to the world that was before anything began. She contemplates, finding herself in a bit of melancholy and thinks about the material and immaterial. Eventually she makes a small diamond and leaves it to its fate.
[/hider]

[hider=MP]
None.
[/hider]