Trep’s Tale

Now I didn’t grow up in a nice home like ya all more’n likely did. I was given over ta the church at a young age. Not one a them nonsense ones neither. The proper church what worships Finra. They done beat right good sense in to me n’ the others. I didn’t mind too much bein’ that they was all I had and it was all I knew. I found out real quick that findin’ a place in the church would stop them beatin’s so I started cookin’. Nothin' fancy but I liked ta experiment with new things. The priests didn’t take kindly to ‘em when they turn’t out bad, but boy when it was good they’d all smile and pat me on the back. The best reward I ever got and it was more’n plenty.

Bein’ in that church was nice. It was home after all. I grew to love all them folk in the church, and I learned a lot about Finra. Not many choose to learn the stories no more, they just worship and pray the crops come in good and that the neighbor boy don’t lose his head at war.

In that church, many folk came passing through looking fer a place to stay the night on their journey. I cooked em all nice proper church food, a loaf a bread and cheese with wine. Made it all meself. They’d tell stories of their travels and even though it were looked down on by the priests I’d sit and listen to every one of em. I loved them stories more than anything. These folk had been everywhere. The isles of Alundria, down deep into the broken mountains, even to an island in the sea of storms. They told stories of different people with strange beliefs and stories of different religions. Now these stories I tried not ta listen to bein a church man meself, but I just couldn’t help it. They dragged me in. I loved them all. But the best stories to me, they were always of the food, and that’s likely what poisoned me mind in ta leavin.

I told the father of the church that I wanted ta see the world and taste all of its food and drink. As ya can imagine, they didn’t take kindly ta my plans. Told me I had to pay em if I wanted ta leave, bein as they saved me and what not. Now the church don’t pay any of us ‘nd they knew well enough I hadn’t a mark to my name. Them trappin' me is why I run’t away. Sure, I regret it some days, but in the end it was the right thing fer me ta do.

After leavin’ I started ta enjoy hearing stories even more. The freedom ta listen without being judged. Finally able ta ask questions. The other religions piqued me interest more and more the further I got from the church. I’d cook food at some pubs fer a while, listening until the stories dried up and then move to the next town. Found meself at them docks right in Rensfort one summer. The captain comes strollin' in and at that time he was just called Karif, plops his behind on one of me stools and he orders some brandy and cheese. I said ta him, “Ya ain’t orderin' that in this pub. Ya get wine and cheese or brandy and fruit.” Thinkin' I knew better’en him. He looks me over ‘nd says, “Boy ya best git that head out yer ass if ya ever want ta grow taller.”

I stared at him, measurin’ him up. But he didn’t say ‘nother word, so I gave him is order and he shared with me. Ta this day I prefer a sweet brandy with strong cheese over any wine.

We was fast friends that day, spent the whole of it just drinkin' and talkin'. After drinkin’ too much, we’s about ta close shop ‘nd part ways ‘nd Karif says ta me, “If ya can tell me a good story, I’ll let ya join me fer a life of adventure.”

What lad would pass that up? But what story ta tell? I knew many but they weren’t me own, and me own weren’t worth tellin'. I had taken a right likin ta religious stories at the time. I could tell of the whale that created the world, or the folk that pray to the lights in the sky. I could tell of the sun creating the world with one moon and all life with the other, and I could tell of the river of creation. I knew most religions fair well at that point, but only one did I know by heart. Over the years of traveling, I had picked up pieces of the many tales of Finra till I had made a nice story of it. I believe it ta be true, too, even if no one else will. The church tries ta separate Vashir, but I knew he had a bigger part in it all. So I told the captain this one. I don’t talk proper, but I think about this story each day ‘nd when I tell it I try ‘nd speak right proper as it deserves. If ya want my story, than you’ll need ta know this one as well.

Creation Story

 The world and heavens always were, as time began, so did they. Long ago a seed fell to earth from the heavens and from that seed, a man bloomed. This man had a desire to create and so he did. He molded a tree from the earth and for four days and four nights it grew. On the fifth day it blossomed, and its seeds were of every creature.

The man tended to the tree and the beings that blossomed, loving and caring for each one. While this man was never truly lonely, after years of tending the tree and its creations, a hole had grown in his heart. He had seen how all the animals had others that were very much like them while he alone remained unique. One day, Finra sat by the water and stared at his reflection. He spoke to himself of the hole in his heart and wondered at what it would be like to have another like him that he could speak to. Without deciding to, he started creating another man out of the image he saw in the water. And from that image, Vashir was born.

Many years passed with Finra and Vashir tending the tree and watching the world grow. They watched the animals mate and have children. Finra and Vashir both looked at all the animals as their children, but Vashir wished to have his own children as a reflection of himself. You see, Vashir did not have the power to create as Finra did, only to nurture those already created. Finra knew of the desire Vashir had. He had seen it in his heart and wished to help, and so he did. Finra created another like them but different. A woman who could help Vashir create human children. Finra did not know what a woman would look like, for he only knew his own reflection as a man. He did know love, the love of all the creatures, and the love of his brother. And more than that, he felt a deep connection to his first creation, the tree of life. Finra created a being in their images. Where their hair was black as the midnight sky, she had flowing green hair like the grass growing all around. Where their skin was dark as the oak tree’s bark, she had pure white skin to match the birch. Where their eyes were blue as the river, hers were the deep amber of sap that flowed through the mother of all, the tree of life. He bestowed the name Veera upon her.

Vashir and Veera took to each other immediately and it wasn’t long before they began having children. Finra had practice in medicine from his care of the animals, so when Veera went into labor, he helped birth their children. Vashir did not mind, but he wished to have that knowledge. After many children Vashir asked to do more to help Veera during labor as Finra had done so many times before. Veera and Finra had no reservations. They were all excited for the next child. But during the birth, something went terribly wrong. A complication with the child and Vashir did not have the experience to save her. The child passed and Veera was heartbroken. After burying her daughter, the glade that had not known sadness, all wept. Veera felt the pain more than others and she was distant with all, but especially so with Vashir. She was even hesitant to let Vashir help with the children. Soon though, her sadness departed as she found solace in her family and in her love of Vashir.

Vashir was not so quick to move on. His despair held on tight as he knew he was the cause of the child’s death. While Veera grieved and overcame, Vashir succumbed to his feelings of sadness and fear. He began keeping his distance from Veera and Finra. One day while he was watching them in the woods helping a family of wolves, he suddenly began feeling hot, confused, and for the first time, he felt anger, hatred, and rage. He ran to them and argued with Veera, yelling that she no longer had love in her heart for him and only love for Finra and his powers. The anger he felt, a foreign emotion to this glade of peace, spread like fire to the animals. The wolves were the closest and felt Vashir’s pain like a hot iron and they began attacking the source of his pain. They attacked Veera. A moment after the wolves lost control, Finra commanded all to be still, but it was too late. Veera lay dead at their feet. Her blood ran like a river. Vashir, calmed by Finra’s voice, looked upon the scene and desperately tried to find a reason for why this happened. Why had his love died? And in that moment his eyes fell upon the wolves. Confused and remorseful as they were, they were still covered in Veera’s blood.

Finra forgave his brother for he still had love for Vashir. He could not have known that Vashir was harboring the fire of hatred and letting it grow secretly within his heart. Vashir blamed the wolves. It was clear to him that they were at fault. He wished death upon all of their kind and began to plan their destruction. He planned until late one night he saw his chance and went to the tree of life. He began breaking the branch that birthed the wolves to separate them from this world. He wished for no more to be born here and that would be a fitting punishment for stealing his love. Finra woke, startled by the tree of life pleading with Vashir. Finra ran to the tree just as Vashir broke the branch and he stood frozen at the sight before his emotions took him. In a flash of anger, Finra cursed Vashir to forever bear the appearance of a wolf, and all who followed Vashir would suffer his fate. He banished Vashir to never return to their glade.

Vashir cried out as his pure form changed into one of cruelty. That of part man and part wolf so that the scars of his hatred were plain for all to see. Vashir begged Finra for forgiveness, but Finra had made his decision and his decision was done. Vashir’s children were torn, as they had love for their father, but they also had love for Finra. Vashir left, and some of his children chose to follow him. Many of Vashir’s children stayed behind to help Finra and so the world became divided. Vashir and his followers held resentment for Finra and even more for the animals that they believed Finra loved more than he loved them. While Finra, and his nieces and nephews that stayed, believed that Vashir had become corrupted with anger and that corruption had spread to the other children.

Now Finra felt alone, for the first time in his existence with no brother or sister, and the weight of responsibility for the protection of the tree of life, and all of his flock, rested solely on his shoulders.

Finra took the broken branch of wolves and planted it by a small pond where they chose to bury the bodies of the dead child and Veera. After much tending, the branch took root and began sprouting seeds. Many of the wolves were borne in the original image and healthy. However, some of the wolves that were borne did not take the appearance of a wolf but took the appearance of a wolf and a man together.

Why didn’t Finra mend the divide? Why did he not undo the curse he laid upon his brother and save the world from hatred and anger right there? Why had Finra let evil be borne into the world with that curse? It could be that he did not know what he had done. Or it could be that he knew mankind deserved the fate that they had brought upon themselves.