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« on: July 14, 2012, 12:00:40 am »
The earth whispered, and the phoenix cried.
Hardrunm heard the whispers of the earth as his mind slumbered. Gentle murmurings of the great tides of the vast sea flowing molten rock far below. Ever the moon and sun stirred it, never letting it rest or stagnate. The whisperings of the earth had been his sleeping mind's companion for a long time. But there was something else too. Often, as he slumbered amid the sounds of the planet, he could hear the cry of a phoenix, burning with fires hotter than those found within the world's molten heart. Long has his dreams envisioned this phoenix, but as times bore on, the dreams had been gradually changing. The murmurs of the earth slowly faded into the distance, while the phoenix drew ever nearer and nearer. But this dream, it was different.
Gone were the earth's whispers. Here was the phoenix that cried.
Before his mind's eye, Hardrunm at last saw the phoenix he had long heard. It was a majestic bird, with wings stretching from one horizon to the other, or so his dreams saw. The murmur of the earth was drowned out by the sounds of crackling fires dancing along the bright plumage of the regal phoenix. It bore a beak of razor edge, gleaming like gold from beneath the earth. It's eyes were affixed on Hardrunm, with a gaze that could shatter diamond. It's talons put steel to shame, and dug great furrows in stone as it clawed at the ground. Mighty though Hardrunm knew himself to be, he knew the Phoenix was older than he. The phoenix of his dreams reached out with one talon, and gently touched him in the center of his chest. A lance of pain shot through him, and he bellowed as the phoenix's flames engulfed him.
The long dreaming ended.
Hardrunm did not know where he was. He didn't know why he was there. He didn't know the frightened people around him. All he knew was the pain. A burning, searing, overwhelming pain. Rearing up from the sacrificial pyre, his body acted on instinct. His mouth opened, and let forth a deafening bellow fueled by agony and surprise. His hoofed feet pounded, propelling him from the flames, into an unknown future. His chest heaved, his lungs drawing in air for the first time in his existence. Even as the frightened people of the tribe watched, a great ox, larger than even the finest beast of burden, leapt up from the dancing flames and charged away into the forest, flames still licking at its back.
For a long time, Hardrunm ran. But as time wore on, the pain faded, and the flames died out. Though the fire burned hot, his skin was unharmed. At length, he stopped, and took the time to think properly and consider his situation. He was unhurt, despite the pain. He was alive and awake, for the first time in years. And there was a village of... what? Hardrunm thought back, remembering back to his time of long dreaming. He had heard of the earth whispering about those strange ones. ...Humans. That is what they were. They were humans, and he was an Ox. Was he though? Oxen should not be this durable or intelligent. No matter, the truth will come to him in time. Turning around, Hardrunm began making his way back to the tribe he had fled.
It was well into night by the time he arrived. The excitement from the sacrifice had given way to a need for sleep. Human and work animal were bedded down for the night. That wouldn't do. If he was an ox, he was also one of the work animals, or so he thought. He had left work undone, work that needed doing. There was much to do, loads to haul, food to carry, and more besides. Or so he had thought. As he walked quietly through the camp, he saw the work had already been done. The tribe had already finished it. Still, there was more that he could do, and food to grow. He felt the earth beneath his feet, heard it's faint whispers, and knew that it would listen to him.
Hardrunm's bovine mouth lowed, but the earth heard the command woven into the animalistic sound. Stone began to rise up from the ground. At his bidding, it reshaped itself into a blade made to dig into the earth. Ropes formed from strands of fiber, and a yoke grew from wood. Hardrunm came near to the stone blade, and breathed on it, giving it the breath of life from the earth. With but a thought, he commanded the yoke to fasten itself upon his strong shoulders, and the ropes to tie him to the plow. Pulling with his vast strength, he began to furrow the earth, and the earth responded. As the soil was turned, the breath of life on the plow in turn acted on the soil. Following the massive ox's footsteps, the soil was nourished, and plants began to spring up in his wake.
Again doubt entered his mind. If he was but an ox, how could he do such things? Would the earth understand and listen to a mere beast of burden? He must be something more. But at the moment, it didn't matter. Hardrunm simply relished the use of his strength, enjoying the feel of the soil beneath his hooves, and the smell of fresh life springing from the earth.
Hardrunm awakes, and beliving himself to be an ox, returns to the village. There, he makes the Stone Plow, a magical device that enriches and enchants the soil it turns.
