Creation of Aer
In the twilight of despair, when shadows loomed,
Aether felt the chill, as the Life Tree’s bloom
Faded beneath Erebos’ creeping dread,
Whispers of death where once there was bread.
The Fey, with hearts woven from light’s embrace,
Sensed the decay, the loss of their grace.
In sacred council, they gathered in flight,
To nurture a seed in the depths of night.
From the withering roots, a single promise arose,
A luminous seed, where hope still glows.
Yet bound by the laws of their ethereal plight,
It could thrive only where mortals ignite.
Thus, with sorrowful resolve, the Fey took their stand,
To carry the burden, to enact their grand plan.
They infused some kindred with shadows of death,
To traverse to Aer, with a fragile breath.
These chosen ones bore the weight of despair,
Yet held within them the spark of care.
They journeyed through realms, where darkness lay thick,
To plant the new tree, to heal the cosmic rift.
In Aer’s fertile soil, they buried the seed,
A promise of life, a potent creed.
From the ashes of anguish, a new tree did rise,
Its branches embracing the vast, open skies.
Thus began the cycle, a dance of rebirth,
Where death met creation, and sorrow met mirth.
With each passing season, a balance restored,
In the tapestry woven, the universe soared.
For life and death twine in a delicate thread,
In the heart of the cosmos, where all have tread.
The Fey, once immortal, now carry the weight,
Of nurturing cycles, entwined by fate.
