Vanna trailed behind the colossal figure, her heart gripped by both wonder and uncertainty. Every step she took caused her boots to sink into the deep, golden sand that seemed to stretch into infinity. Sandstorms twirled and danced in the far-off distance, merging the line between the vast desert floor and the expansive sky above. Once prominent city ruins, constructed from sharp, obsidian-like stones, had now become obscured, hidden behind the curtain of moving sand. By the time she thought to glance over her shoulder, they were swallowed by the desert, becoming a mere memory.
The once dim light gradually grew brighter, signaling day’s progression, even though the sun remained conspicuously absent. The desert, in response, began to radiate an increasing warmth.
Reacting to the sweltering heat, Vanna, with a deliberate motion of her hand, called forth a massive sword intricately crafted from shimmering ice. This majestic weapon, a gift from the Storm Goddess she venerated, was her shield against the desert’s harshness. She couldn’t help but let her gaze wander to the vast expanse above.
Dominating the heavens was a vast crimson rift. Its presence was unsettling, and Vanna couldn’t shake off the feeling that the eerie, blood-red tendrils at its perimeter had grown more pronounced since she last beheld them. Although no sun graced this realm, the sky kept brightening in a bizarre, rhythmic pattern. It felt as if the very essence of “sunlight” had been etched into a divine cycle between the celestial and the terrestrial. It seemed that even if the sun had been erased, its legacy of light and warmth would punctually manifest in this world.
The giant’s gaze, which had been observing the horizon, now shifted to the frozen sword in Vanna’s hand.
He’d seen her brandishing the sword previously, but witnessing its magical materialization piqued his interest even further.
“That blade of yours,” he remarked, voice deep and resonant, “it’s conjured from an energy foreign to this land. Truly remarkable. It’s been ages since my eyes last beheld ‘ice’ in these arid lands.”
Vanna responded with a hint of pride, “This power is a gift from the deity I serve. She commands both the storms and the oceans. This ice symbolizes the raw power of storms.”
The giant pondered, “A deity of the vast waters, you say? Storms and endless oceans… It’s strange to think of them in this barren wasteland. But I recall, eons ago, a splendid city by the sea, resplendent with immaculate white walls and myriad azure rooftops. That city, christened after a precious gem, was where the inaugural ship that dared to traverse the boundless ocean was constructed.”
As Vanna absorbed the giant’s recounting of long-lost legends, she communicated his words to her fellow dream questers in her entourage. The desert’s oppressive heat continued to intensify, leading her to break off a fragment of her icy blade. Nibbling on the cooling shard, her voice tinged with eagerness, she inquired, “Then what happened?”
The towering giant’s words held a melancholic tone as he recounted, “The city, once vibrant and alive, vanished as if encased within an ethereal bubble. As time wore on and the land transformed, so many elements shifted in manners that remain beyond my grasp,” he mused. His eyes, filled with eons of memories, once again settled on Vanna, especially noting the icy sword from which she had taken a bite. “Is that how you typically utilize it?”
Feeling slightly embarrassed, Vanna shrugged, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “It gets rather warm here,” she confessed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “and I’ve always had a bit of a vulnerability to extreme heat.”
The giant’s deep chuckle echoed through the vast desert. “Sensitivity to your surroundings, especially to the elements, signifies that you’re still vibrantly alive. Every sensation, every discomfort, reaffirms life,” he commented. His massive footsteps then ceased as he proclaimed, “We’ve reached our destination, wanderer.”
Vanna’s steps faltered as she followed the trajectory of the giant’s gaze. Her eyes widened in sheer wonder.
Laid out before them was an awe-inspiring chasm reminiscent of a gaping wound in the very fabric of the ground. Unbeknownst to them, their journey had brought them to the very precipice of this vast abyss, a precipitous drop awaiting them just a few strides ahead.
Pushing past her initial shock, Vanna inched closer, seeking a clearer view of the sinkhole’s interior. The chasm’s walls bore a striking resemblance to molten glass, mirroring the same liquefied yet solid appearance they had observed in the city ruins earlier. The surrounding sands seemed to shy away from the sinkhole, revealing a ground fractured with countless deep crevices. The cavernous expanse was so massive it looked capable of housing a sprawling metropolis, perhaps even one as grand as the city of Pland.
Distantly, at the very heart of the chasm stood an imposing relic. What might once have been a grand tower now showcased a facade warped by the ravages of time. Encircling this skeletal remnant, traces of melted pathways and a smattering of stone structures at varying heights could barely be discerned.
Transfixed, Vanna gestured towards the remnants and enquired, “What is that tower?”
The giant, rather than offering an immediate response, moved towards the sinkhole’s brink and seated himself, his imposing staff resting by his side. He appeared lost in thought, the weight of countless millennia evident in his contemplative expression.
After what felt like an eternity, he voiced his memories.
“Some details might have grown foggy with time, but this place… this I recall vividly. Recognizing that their world was on the brink of an inevitable decay beyond any mortal intervention, they erected a monumental archive right here. The vast chasm you witness is what remains of that archive. It was their endeavor to encapsulate their very essence, their mark on this world within a singular monumental structure.”
He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in, then continued, “Every conceivable testament to their civilization – their culture, arts, historical records, myriad scrolls, invaluable artifacts, repositories of seeds, even grand statues – all were housed within the protective confines of meticulously designed vaults. They fashioned enormous stone tablets, utilizing the most enduring of materials, upon which they etched a brief narrative of their world and the essence of their society.”
The giant’s deep voice resonated with an air of melancholy, “Books, susceptible to the ravages of time, deteriorate rapidly. Sophisticated recording tools, despite their technological prowess, are prone to glitches, while complex storage systems require specific means for interpretation. However, inscriptions made on stone endure. Their resilience to decay can span millennia, even surpassing millions of years. Hence, those stone tablets became the bedrock of their archives, representing the very essence of this grand repository.”
He paused, reflecting on the wisdom of their decision. “They believed stone was the ultimate medium to immortalize their tales, their legacy.”
Vanna’s eyes shimmered with a mixture of sadness and curiosity. “But then… what led to their downfall?” she inquired, even though a foreboding sentiment told her she might already comprehend the tragic ending.
With a somber expression, the giant looked deeply into Vanna’s eyes, “The steadfast stones, believed to last eternally, morphed into fleeting bubbles, vanishing in a mere blink.”
Vanna’s heart thudded painfully in her chest, resonating with the weight of his words.
“Artistic relics liquefied, trickling away, seeping into every nook and cranny. Ancient scrolls transformed into ethereal silhouettes, their contents eerily cast upon the walls. Once grand statues evaporated, becoming mere wisps of their former glory. Soon after, the grand repository’s foundation faltered, leading to its descent, which in turn fractured the surrounding landscape.” The giant gestured towards the expansive chasm. “Desperate souls assembled at this very spot, the remnants of a once-thriving society, mourning their lost heritage, bracing for their imminent end. Yet, even that fleeting moment to grieve and prepare for oblivion was denied to them.”
“Everything they had painstakingly documented transmuted into… unfathomable spectacles.”
He sighed deeply, the pain evident in his voice, “The harsh truth remains: when the world teeters on the brink of oblivion, nothing scribed upon its canvas can truly be safeguarded.”
Absorbing his narrative, Vanna hesitated briefly before tentatively pointing, “That lone tower…”
The giant’s whisper echoed with raw emotion, “As everything around them unraveled, that became their final sanctuary. Much like how in ancient times, when a vast blaze ravaged the forested villages, the inhabitants sought refuge in the expansive grasslands. But this catastrophe threatened more than just timber and foliage…”
“Ultimately, only a solitary soul managed to approach that refuge. Their visage eludes me. Their age, gender, identity – all are lost in the annals of time.”
“They stood resilient, facing their doom.”
“In their final moments, an inexplicable transformation occurred. Their stature magnified, almost touching the heavens, a scene so surreal, it defied comprehension. Their ‘knowledge’ had always dictated that the mortal physique couldn’t sustain such an imposing scale…”
The giant’s gaze fixated on the remnant “tower” at the heart of the abyss, seemingly haunted by that ancient enigma.
Vanna’s realization dawned.
That “tower” represented the last sentinel of this bygone world.
As Vanna observed the “sinkhole,” her azure eyes slowly expanded, a look of disbelief and awe overtaking her features.
Despite the considerable expanse that separated her from the mysterious “tower,” its mammoth scale was palpably evident. It loomed even taller than the magnificent towers of Pland, dwarfing even the grandeur of the city-state’s renowned cathedral. The very thought that this could represent a mortal being left her reeling.
Yet, as her scrutiny intensified, eerie facets began to crystallize. In the labyrinthine pattern of the “tower,” she believed she could discern features that mirrored mortal anatomy: the semblance of outstretched limbs, a torso that spiraled in tortured contortions, and for a fleeting heartbeat, she imagined she saw a visage – a sight so haunting it sent a shiver down her very soul.
However, Vanna recognized that this could be a mere trick of her perception. From her vantage point, genuine details on the tower, if they existed, would likely elude precise observation.
Moreover, the “tower’s” severely distorted form made it challenging to ascertain its initial design.
An overwhelming cocktail of emotions swirled within Vanna. As her eyes remained fixed on this looming dark monument, a testimony to the last sentinel of a bygone era, a slew of questions gnawed at her mind. Eventually, she found her gaze drifting upwards towards the sky, now shrouded in a crimson rift, bereft of the sun’s comforting presence.
After an oppressive silence, perhaps hoping to escape the melancholic grip of her thoughts, she inquired, “The sun… did it vanish during that cataclysmic event?”
“The sun?”
She gestured skywards, “This wasn’t always the celestial image. What befell the radiant sun that once graced this realm with its luminance?”
Ah, the sun,” the giant replied, his voice tinged with an ineffable nostalgia. He delved into the depths of his worn robes, his massive fingers delicately rummaging. A moment later, he revealed to Vanna an object that left her breathless.
“The sun’s essence lies here,” he declared softly.
Held aloft in the giant’s vast palm was a gleaming orb roughly the size of Vanna’s own hand.
It shimmered with a muted luminescence and exuded a gentle, comforting warmth. The orb seemed to float, suspended in time and space, as though it were a fragment of another world.
It’s so minutely small yet emanating such deep tranquility.
“It fell,” the giant stated with solemn calmness, locking eyes with Vanna, “And I picked it up.”
