Voices of Eld

 
In the halcyon days that earmarked the Beginning of the Star, all we knew was peace, sunlight, fresh air. We existed in the Light of Hydaelyn and we rejoiced in it. Yet, as time wore on, more of Hydaelyn’s Children were born. Flora and fauna of all shapes and sizes; beasts both fearsome and frail, plants both beautiful and deadly. None, however, held as much potential for both destruction and creation as those she favored most: Mankind.
 
They were frightening in their brutish ways, never satisfied with what they had, always seeking to expand, to take, to consume – to conquer. Life became ever-fleeting beneath the onslaught and we oftentimes found ourselves wondering why – why were they so consumed with the need to have dominion over all things? What hunger had been instilled in them that they should never be sated?
 
We never understood. We could only stand in horrified silence as we watched them raze the world. And when the world wasn’t enough, they turned on each other. Oh, how Hydaelyn’s heart must have broken, over and over again, to watch Her Children, these bright motes of her creation turn upon each other like an Ouroboros and continuously destroy one another. To hate one another. We never understood how children born of such Light could sink into so much Darkness.
 
But like the ebon velveteen of night is dotted by myriad stars, so, too, did we see such glimmers of Light among Mankind: those worthy of salvation through the sacrifices they made. We sought them out, these paragons, and did what we could to ease their suffering. To usher them forward onto the Paths of Light for which they were intended. Such was our purpose now, secret and sublime. We would watch Hydaelyn’s Children and raise up only the greatest of these.
 
We thought we understood our place in the world, at last, our purpose. Yet, even this we were denied when we were shown time and again that some sacrifices were not enough. Some were made in sorrowful vain. And we came to know remorse – and regret.
 
It wasn’t until the First of our Number chose to sacrifice herself for a lone, downtrodden boy. She gave of her aether, her life, her very essence to provide the sustenance that would allow he and his progeny ever-after to thrive and blossom. She was the first of the Everbloom. A gift from the very heart of the star, from those whom Hydaelyn created first upon the face of the world.
 
As generations passed, the Everbloom’s sacrifice was forgotten and Mankind again fell into hardship and ruin. Again, one of our own sought to remedy their struggle at the cost of their own life. And again, for a time, there was prosperity. Over and over this cycle repeated. Over and over did we give and give, life after life, so that Hydaelyn’s Children might see the fullness of their potential.
 
And so, here I am. And the cycle begins anew.