by ShimmerSolarPets » Fri Aug 31, 2018 10:49 pm
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Upon reaching Yagharr, he sank into a state of contemplation. He so badly wanted to be among them, yet he could not without causing them to strike against him. There was so much mortal blood on his hands already. He had cut them all short in mere seconds. Still, there was a burning determination to live among them. The question then became, how? For a few hundred years, ▇▇▇▇▇▇ spent his life holed up in Yagharr, unwilling to leave this world to go back to his usual routine of watching mortals. His time watching mortals had left him to develop a longing of his own, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt that he was a lonely being. Was he that far different from the mortals? Then, one day, it came to him. The arrival of the Celestial Guardians upon Xagdaron caught his attention. They would certainly be hostile towards him if they knew he had been residing in Yagharr. Yet, they merely passed by him, going into the planet to solve a conflict that was going on. He noticed that they held the form of Viscets as they did so, and were hailed heroes once the conflict had passed.
A bolt of inspiration struck him. What if the reason the mortals had been hostile to him was his appearance?
To do what he wanted to do, a sacrifice was needed. However, ▇▇▇▇▇▇'s desire outweighed everything else. The beast tore away part of his life energy and sealed it within the moon, Yagharr, binding his essence to this world. It came with a reward- he could finally visit the mortal realm every full moon of Yagharr.
In his first full moon, ▇▇▇▇▇▇ descended upon a forest in Xagdaron, with green fur that shimmered in the moonlight and long, silky locks of pale hair. Two horns curved upwards from his head. The world seemed so much bigger as a Viscet, with trees that had been as small as toy blocks towering over him. He got up to his feet and staggered, slightly. These small, frail limbs needed some time to get adjusted to. "Hello?" a voice suddenly called out behind him. The cosmic-being-turned-viscet spun around, his tail flapping unsteadily behind him as if he wasn't sure how to walk. A troupe of Viscets had emerged from the trees, and were now looking at him with concern on their faces. "Are you alright?" one of them asked. It was the same voice he'd heard earlier, and it was a female Viscet. She quickly rushed towards him when it looked like he was going to topple over, and supported him with her paws. Her fur held a strange, comforting warmth. "Who are you? Where did you come from?" she asked.
That was the first mortal concept he ever learned personally: identity. Wondering what "name" he should give these mortals, he thought back to the way the Celestial Warriors often referred him to. Knowing that his "name" would be beyond the comprehension of mortals, he tried his best to translate it to the mortal tongue. "Yggharla... Na'hub..." he spoke, carefully pronouncing each syllable. The words felt foreign.
The others went on to introduce themselves, then invited Yggharla to join them. In his concealed excitement, he accepted. Thus, he learned of another mortal concept: companionship. They spent the night around the campfire, talking and doing introductions. Yggharla kept information about himself confidential, but enjoyed his time regardless. It upset him to have to sneak out of their camp when the moon was about to set. He returned to Yagharr, this time with an excitement within his heart.
The next full moon, he located the troupe once more, rejoining his friends, who recognized him and were happy to see him. New concepts were learnt: celebration, bargaining, work, traveling... All of this was beautiful to Yggharla. Every night he had to return to Yagharr, only to find them in the next full moon. The troupe soon became close to him, treating him like a good friend despite only meeting each other monthly. Among them, he was closest to the female who had helped him first- the only one he truly confided to.
One night, she confessed her love towards him.
Yggharla knew love was an important concept in mortal lives, yet he had no idea what it was. Not even after the eons he had spent watching mortals. So, as eager to learn as always, he accepted. Thus, his life changed. He started a family, owning a son named Jorvandor. His time in a mortal form had instilled new emotions within him- things that he had never felt before. Attachment, anger, joy... Every time he had to go back to the moon, these feelings vanished, leaving a black hole within himself. It was the birth of Jorvandor that made him realize how hollow and empty he was. Mortals weren't the ones purposelessly wandering the world; it was cosmic beings like himself. Though only being able to visit Xagdaron every full moon, he fondly watched as Jorvandor grew into a fine young man under the nurturing paw of his mate.
Still, Yggharla did not understand what love was. Was it giving his "loved ones" what they wanted?
With his vast power, he supplied his family with everything they might need. He even led Jorvandor onto a path of greatness- being the king of a nation named after himself. Jorvandor- the first nation to float in the skies. Yet all of this did not prevent the grief that was to come. One day, his mate died, and Yggharla learnt what it meant to suffer loss. Jorvandor took it even worse.
Ever since his mother's death, Jorvandor became obsessed with ascending to Yggharla's plane of existence. He tried every way, and even Yggharla began to worry about his health. His words fell on deaf ears. So, when things went too far, Yggharla decided to reveal his true form to Jorvandor one day to dissuade him from his attempts. It did not go well.
Jorvandor, traumatized by what he saw, fell into a catatonic state. He refused to eat nor drink, and Yggharla was forced to watch as his son withered away into nothing. A surge of guilt hit the cosmic being hard. He must have not loved them enough. Love was supposed to be a powerful force, able to transcend anything. So, why did his family have to die?
It was a while before Yggharla visited Xagdaron once more, but he finally decided to try again. Another family was created, and Yggharla did his best to love them according to what he understood about the concept. Yet once again, he could not prevent their deaths. More and more families were created. Each one of them had to die, and Yggharla, being the immortal being he was, lived on to see the world change. Jorvandor stood as a nation as scholars, ever-thriving in the skies as the floating kingdom it was despite the tragic fate that befell its founder. In his time living among various mortals, he had learned of many things.
However, perhaps the most jarring thing he had learned was his own hollowness.
Yggharla Na'hub was an eternal being, vast in power and incomprehensible in nature. Yet for all his power, he realized that he was merely a purposeless monster without substance. He outlived the friends he made, the families he had built. He was even a creature of destruction for a time, unfairly ending the lives of mortals and stealing their futures away from them. Yggharla knew he was unforgivable for this, yet time and time again he tried. To this day, every full moon, he's still trying to atone. To fight against the demon that was himself.
Most importantly, Yggharla wanted more than anything to love.
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Word count: 1305 words
