POV DNP

[Ucanthandleme]

Entry for this kalon. Please do not post!

Username+ Usernumber: Ucanthandleme + 809102
Name: Helios

[Ucanthandleme]

Persecuted, murdered, hunted. We are the golden people. Our hair, to our blood, to our bones, glazed in an opulent sheen of gold. Our body was their treasure. Our hair could be weaved into indestructible nets and clothes, our blood able to cure even those with half a breath of life left, and our bones, they were able to be made into weapons that carved out homes. To them we were an object, the races of this world saw us as a prize, a golden trophy with no ability to resist. As our people were slaughtered, our children hunted, we wondered, why were we given such a fate. To the world we were a blessing, to ourselves it was a curse. The greed of them all was blinding, disgusting, they would go rabid at a drop of our blood, we hated our lives, but we hated them more. Perhaps at first our ancestors felt fear but now all that was left to this generation was a deep seated hatred. We wished to grind their flesh, break their bones, make them watch as all they love was broken. But we couldn't, we were powerless in the wake of their greed. Dragons to elves to even the common man, all of them longed for our bodies, just as much as we longed for an end. Then he came.

Our keeper, different to ourselves, drenched in pitch black night, stars swirling on their body. They draped us gently, like a mother hen beneath their wings, their cape covered us, hiding us from the prying eyes of the world. He built us a sanctuary, those on the outside would call it a cage, but to us it was a haven of safety. Even if we couldn't leave, they could not enter. For the first time in eternity we were safe. This was our paradise, whatever we wanted he would bring, whatever we needed he would provide, he was our hope. But we were still wary, untrusting, we had seen greed hidden behind a facade of kindness before, many wished to believe but found it hard to be convinced. Then he showed us the fleeting red within his eyes, we knew those eyes well, as they were the ones before us, the ones of history which held our place being hunted for their powers. So we trusted, we trusted those eyes and body which held up our sky.

Safe in the sanctuary. We didn't see him again after this but we knew he was here as every once and a while trinkets and games would appear. Food and water was plentiful, our treasured bodies finally reached their true lifespan, never before had we seen the old, truly a blessing it was. So there it continued. The elders told of the story of our keeper, our great protector, they told of the time before, the horrors of the world. Some young people wondered what life on the outside was like, but only for a moment. After all we had all we needed here and the stories of our ancestors prevented us from ever truly wishing to leave, after all no one wished to be hunted all their lives. The golden people were peaceful, we created many great things, had many great skills, had long fulfilling lives, all thanks to our keeper.

(558)

[Ucanthandleme]

Stolen. A stolen treasure of the world. The golden people were many's only hope in life. Their bones and hair made weapons to keep us safe, their blood gave life to even the sickest. People got sick, they lost limbs, went crazy but with a drop of blood they would be given life once again. A miracle that everyone longed for no matter the race, after all who wouldn't want a ticket of safety, a second chance at life. We knew we were greedy, greedy for them, but everyone was, no one was different. All of us gave reasons, taking the high horse of morality, one life for many, such a treasure should be spread among everyone. Life was unfair, the weak were eaten by the strong, and it just so happened the treasures of the world were weak. So this was their fate, the universe must have made them weak for a reason, to save us, that was their purpose, their one and only purpose. Then the thief came.

A pitch black night swept away all the treasures, taking them for themself, taking them from the world. The races were angry, furious even at the thief who had stolen the treasures. The people cried out, they could no longer save the lives of the young and sick, no longer protect themselves from outside forces. They became vulnerable, we had been too reliant on the treasures, but this only fueled our rage. The captor built an ivory cage for the treasures, locking them away from the world's prying eyes. Selfish. A selfish being he was leaving many who could have been saved to die. He was a killer, a thief, the one who had to shoulder the lives that had been lost. We tried, tried to take the treasures back. Many races beat the drum of war, attacking the dome trying to lure out its mysterious maker. But he did not come, and the cage was not destroyed. He went down in infamy, the midnight thief, the killer of the races. He was a taunting symbol, his creation no different.

We couldn't see into the ivory cage, but we knew the treasures of life lay inside. It was right in front of us, dangling like a sweet piece of candy that we could not touch, a torturous time it was. The races they told of the treasure and the thief, in fanatical verses. One day if the thief died the treasures would be free to the world. Eons past but memories remained, adventures tried and failed many times to get to the treasure or to find the thief. All with no luck. In time though for the common people at least the lure was not strong, healing improved by leaps and bounds, mechanics built weapons to keep us safe and the world advanced to cater to the treasures' disappearance. Some people believed the cage to be a monument. After all, how could such a miraculous treasure really exist, perhaps it was just the dream of an elder. There were those who believed and those who didn't, but the legend remained true.

(524)

[Ucanthandleme]

History would repeat itself if one didn't think of the past. The crimson eyed people. Some called them demons, others angels, to some they were a frightening adversary, to others they were hope. Wielding great powers they walked across the world. Healing the sick, helping the weak. They did not fear anyone because they were strong. The strong breed fear, but greed breeds fearlessness. The world wondered how they could bring back a being of nearly a breath of life, but because of their strength they couldn't find out. That was until the oracle appeared, perhaps the world was mad, there was a balance after all that had to be maintained, those who should die should die, those who should live should live. The red eyed people though made that choice themselves, they could save who they wanted and kill who they wanted just the same. They wielded power, the power of life and death. But their reign came quickly and went just as quick.

The oracle bought the word, their healing powers were from their own blood, their strength from their eyes, their bodies were great treasures. The world was greedy, fear was a forethought when in front of them lay a priceless treasure. The ones they saved, the ones they killed, all of them fought for their bodies. The crimson eyed people were outraged, the people had let greed blind them. They had forgotten what they had done, they had already saved the good and killed the bad, they had given many lives a second chance. But the second chance wanted more. The people forgot their power, so they let them know. They left with fury, those who hunted them came up empty handed. The people felt regret, it was unknown if they regretted the hunt, or the fact they got nothing in return. But regret turned into anger, there was no one to heal the sick now. That was their duty, how could they abandon it they screamed, forgetting of the crimes they had inflicted.

The world plunged into another age of darkness, people's minds became twisted and angry. But they were blessed once again. A new race born, the golden people, ones who were treasures with no strength. The people who had heard stories of old, who had listened to the woes of their elders and the hate in their voices at the legend of the crimson eyed people. They burned with hate for the ones that were so similar to them. Perhaps if they had thought for a moment, of what the golden people could have become, the crimson eyed people could have been, healing the world with an impartial view, getting rid of the bad and saving the good, maybe then there would have been a different outcome. But they didn't, history repeated itself, the golden people were hunted, but this time had no way to fight back. The world was fair after all though, so even if they had them for a moment, they could have the treasure forever. They were left with nothing once again.

(515)

[Ucanthandleme]

None of them were my people. We were different but the same. A tragedy of old. I was merely a creation of one for which they called perfection. I hated them, they were greedy for the perfect being. They had been angered by the world. The world who had taken and given nothing back. Hunted but those they cared for, all for greed. They were no different though. Greed. Greed. Greed. They were all greedy. The crimson eyed people banished from the world, hunted to the edge into hiding, they longed for release but they needed something more powerful, more perfect than themselves to complete the task. I was their creation. One in their own image but unlike them I was of a different mind. The problem was once they had one they wanted more and more, greed took hold of them like the ones who had been before. They tried to make more but only gained failed products. Golden people, who too like me, were their creation. Failed ones at that. To them they were trash, incomplete, so they were thrown to the world to meet their end.

At first I was blank and thought not much of it, but over time I became angry. I developed more, as did my thoughts, these failures, these people, they were my siblings, made by the same creator. I could abandon them, but then I would be no different from the rest of the world. So I left, left the crimson eyed people begging for me to stay, they spoke of ending their greed, they only needed me. Lies, greed was inherent, but I couldn't have them making more. So… I got rid of them and returned to the world. I saved my siblings scattered throughout the world. I watched from the sky keeping their safety, studying the other races of the world. He would watch. Watch the world change, he hoped one day the greed would fade.

(329)

[Ucanthandleme]

All beauty comes with a price. The world was a place of shallowness, a dark tunnel that all had wandered in hopes of finding beauty. Each had their own outlook on beauty, yet behind most beauty was a grotesque monster, draining you dry. It begged for compliments, your love, your ideals, it stole the words from your mouth and you gladly gave it to the beauty. As time went on the monster behind the beauty grew and grew until it seemed to blind them more than the darkness. The beauty lost it’s mask and the demon creeped out. But then the beauty was ugly, it was no longer a beautiful bud rather a wilted flower, so beauty was locked away. A dark secret they hid, they created it yet imprisoned it all the same. Beauty became a sin, they were all repulsed by beauty because they knew what it became. Even so they could not rid themselves of the ideal of beauty. Beauty after all was a universal ideal. The need to seek perfection was engraved into their bones and although they knew beauty was ugly they still longed for it. So they created beauty.

Perhaps this is where they made a mistake, artificial beauty. A beauty that all could worship, all could love, one that would not turn into an ugly monster. Helios was born. Quite laughable really, to give a name with the meaning sun. To brighten their lives, but what happened if you looked at the sun too long. You went blind. And blinded they were. Their creation was the epitome of perfection, a wonderrous blend of beauty and esthetic. And they were not just beautiful on the outside, they were also beautiful on the inside. But what was created could not be complete although Helios was perfect in body, but had no soul. No flick of life that made you enraptured. So they found a soul. A newborn, a piece of blank paper, a child's soul was implanted in an adult body. They however did not forget about the monster of beauty. So they chained the soul in roses, so that the beauty would never grow. A soul in forever slumber.

The roses that chained a child's soul, Helios was perfect, a beautiful body and a pure soul. However the monster from beauty was natural, Helios however was unnatural. You would much prefer to lie on a bed of nails than a bed of roses. The nails would give you great pressure, they would hold you up evenly across, yet the roses would pierce your skin, their thorns cutting deep. Helios was like quenching one's thirst with poison wine, sweet and addictive yet would eventually drain your life. Helios became a god to them, a creature they could look at but not touch, however they were greedy for more. So they tried to make another, and another, and another, yet none of them reached the beauty of Helios. So they were thrown away like rag dolls exiled to the hole which held the beauty. Even more so now Helios was worshipped, no one could replicate his perfection, however the chain of roses that held him had spread out, intertwined with all the failed creations, a web of beauty. Like an innocent child watching a butterfly die, it saw all they had done to the beauty.

Ugly. They were all ugly each worse than the next, Helios saw the ones who had been thrown out and the beautiful monsters that longed for affection. How cruel they had been locking up their mistakes, Helios thought they were the true mistakes. Helios was a white rose dyed in black, his thorn jagged, his vine cold. He released the beautiful monsters and imprisoned the creators. Forever unable to return to the beauty they longed for. Forever trapped with the greed they held. And helios, he was free, free to care for their so-called broken creations, the only true ones who were perfect in his eyes.

(668)

[Ucanthandleme]

Legends, fables, the history of the world. Forgotten when not spoken, but when spoken not forgotten. The world had changed, as had the people. But the story remains. The great thief, great savior, priceless treasure, unfound beauty. The world still had the stories, the different point of views of many, which side was right, which side was wrong, no one would know the truth. After all only winners write the story, only those who hate change the narrative. Perhaps it all was fake, a lie, or nearly a deceptive truth. Were there really such miraculous creations, or was it a fable to give hope. Did the world need to find a place to put its anger for its own mistakes or to justify its actions. Maybe they truly wished to believe in safety, when in reality they were locked up tight. What was real and what was false? Nobody knows, hence it would remain a legend.

(158)

[Ucanthandleme]

Totals world count: 2752 words