The Price Of Change

[Merkaken 516]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lgEqwZlr5AA

 

 

"I'm not an Ox anymore..."

 

It had been little time since the Father Grove had been destroyed by the Undead... It was little surprise at the sorrow the Druids feel. Their home, their friends, and their beloved Archdruid, Lillith, perished before a god. Things would not be the same...

 

A Halfling emerges from the Druid's dwelling, tears stinging his face. A heavy burden weighed his heart, an oath he had broken. A stance he took that he had lost. A friend he had let down.

 

"Stephano... I... I couldn't... They're..."

 

Popo sobs, cupping his face in his hands, catching his tears. To the others, Popo felt he had an image to uphold... He wouldn't let the others see him break. He knew they would understand, even comfort him. But he was the Ox Druid. Or so he told himself...

 

"Why...? Why did I freeze...? Why didn't I stand with Lillith...? It was my duty... And I failed... The herd... The Grove... Our home."

 

He stares up at the sky.

 

"Is this your damned plan, Aspects?! If you're so all knowing, did you know this would happen?! Your children! Your worshipers! Killed! Do you even care?! Does it even matter to you?! Where are our parents?!" He screams.

 

He falls to his knees. "Stephano... His daughter was killed along with the rest of the herd... The herd I swore to protect... And they're... They're dead..." He bows his head, tears falling from his face. "Stephano... My beloved friend... My strength to keep moving... Forgive me... I failed you twice now... I wasn't strong enough to protect you... Or your daughter... Please... I... Forgive me..."

 

His eyes blurred, he only felt small paws skittering on his robe. A sudden prick on his finger makes Popo shout in pain. "Dammit!" He stands, wipping his hands over his eyes, leaving a small bit of blood on his cheek, washing off rather easily with his heavy tears. His finger had been punctured, all be it slightly. He looks down, to see a small ball of silver. A silverfish.

 

The small rat-like creature skitters around, sniffing around Popo's ruksack. He begins gnawing through it, bitting into the bits of melon seeds inside. Slowly, more Silverfish come, feasting upon the small seeds. "What are you-"

 

Just then, a memory flashed to Popo's mind. An elderly Elf, wise beyond years in the ways of the Aspects, and the wisdom he had passed down to Popo during his Dedicancy.

 

"The work of the Aspects is not something you can predict... It is not so romantic as a simple cycle... You will understand one day."

 

The Halfling's eyes widden. He looks at the hungry Silverfish, scrounging for crumbs in the sack. "... Is this all they can find...? Why...?" He sits down, scratching his head. "They're hungry... Their life revolves around scrounging for anything to eat..." He realizes what he must do. Through his Druidic powers, Popo's hair begins to glow, a green mist extending towards the Silverfish family, bidding them to follow him.

 

"Their sacrafice will not be for nothing..."

 

The ruins of the Father Grove struck Popo like a dozen knives through his heart. By now, a massive gathering of rats, silverfish, different scavangers of small proportions followed him. It took time, picking through the ashy, desecrated Grove, but he found the herd's resting place. The way their body lay still was more than Popo could take, but he must pull through.

 

Through the help of nature, roots, branches, and animals, nature slowly sets their fallen brothers and sisters' bodies into a safe place, great care taken while handling their bodies. "Nature is not so romantic as a simple cycle, Popo..." He told himself. "... Sometimes it's confusing... But as a Druid, it is up to you to enforce it... To protect it... One creature's death... Is another's life..."

 

Popo kneels down, and begins a prayer to the Aspects. "I may not understand... I may never understand... But Aspects... Allow me the chance to at least scratch the surface of your will... To have a simple grasp on what it means to be with nature... To know what it means to be one with it..." He raises, looking to the Silverfish and rodents, things he once feared, but now realized how much akin they are to one another. Scavangers. Rebuilders. Survivors.

 

Survivors.

 

"My new friends... I ask that you respectfully continue the cycle of nature... These brave brothers and sisters of yours died before they finished their lives..." He says, sorrowfully. "However... Their death... Is not their end... Through their passing, will you survive... Do not let them down..." He speaks as much to the Silverfish about the Oxen, as he does to himself about Lillith. As nature continues its routine, Popo leaves.

 

"I'm not an Ox anymore... I'm a Silverfish..."

 

 

 

 

[Heero 4092]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.