As time passed, unmarked by the immortals of Colinia, it was seen in the ever-changing body of the adopted mortal Demmy. Each season she seemed to change ever so slightly, until she had gone from a short, stout youngster, all round and soft, with poorly coordinated limbs, to a young, pretty girl, all arms and legs, with soft, chestnut eyes, and long red hair that fell in wisps about her round face. She had been attending the gathering at Rivian for some twelve years, by her own count, and most likely more then that because she could not remember her own infancy or the precise time in which she began the count. She had asked her mother once about her birth date, for she was curious about her age. She had noticed the humans to mark the anniversary of they’re coming into this world, often with celebrations. But Demmy’s mother had told her that dates and time were not important. And it wasn’t until just recently that Demmy had decided for her self that she was mortal. She had always played with the human children that gathered at Rivian, but slowly she came to realize that she was more like them then her own kind. They seemed to change, and grow, much like she did, only more quickly, and to share common characteristic traits. The rhythmic pattern of her heart beat was like that of the humans’, they came in timed, evenly spaced thumps that would speed when active, and slow at rest. The heart beat of her mother was more flowing, like the river, or the clouds, and other immortal things of nature.
Demmy had realized some time ago that she was not her mother’s daughter by birth. First, the stories at Rivian told that her mother was youngest of her kind, making childbirth for her impossible, and second she had asked her mother where she had come from, and immortals, being utterly oblivious to the very concept of lying tell truthfully somethings that are, perhaps better left unsaid. And so it was that Demmy began to wonder about the big question. She decided to ask her mother before the council, that way the question could not be put off.
On the first day of the bright season, summer as it was called to mortal men, Demmy rose with the first golden threads of light that fell to announce the start of a new day. She hurried about her morning activities quickly and hastily. She washed in the cold pools near they’re home, and drank deeply, then ate and was about to wake her mother when she remembered. It didn’t matter how early she was ready, her mother, who had no sense of time, would not put herself out to hurry, because she saw no need to. The quick paced life of a mortal seemed bothersome to her. Demmy would just have to wait until she had gotten up herself and decided that the temperature was right to leave.
Finally, when the sun had reached the middle of the sky, and instead of rising began to fall slowly from the sky Illutiana was prepared to leave. Demmy half walked half ran to Rivian. She knew the way by heart, but it was bad manners to run ahead of one’s parent, and so she always stayed just within sight of Illutiana who seemed to stroll, carelessly down the path.
Demmy scurried threw ferns and flowers and when she had finally reached a meadow leading to the bank of a shallow pond she knew she was almost there. The sun had sunken low behind the trees but still radiated enough light to guide they’re path. When they reached Rivian the shadows were long, and Demmy wondered if the immortals even cared to answer her question. Still, she walked bravely into the clearing, took a deep breath, and marched up toward the speaking stone. Illutiana reached Rivian a few moments later and rested by the pools, warning Demmy not to run of too far, but she had another idea. With out a word she reached the top of the speaking stone and called to the drowsy immortals in as loud and sure a voice as she could muster.
You all know me! I have been with you for many turns of the season now and I have a confession to make and a question to ask. First, for those who don’t know my story; I don’t remember my birth, I guess I was far too young, but I do remember my life scence I began to fish in the creek for food in my mother’s valley. As young as I can remember something about me was different. I don’t look like my mother but that dose not bother me. It has been herd of for humans to abandon they’re young, even to die. I don’t know, nor do I presume to guess at what has happened to the parents who bore me, yet as I’ve said that doesn’t trouble me.
When I was little I use to chase frogs and bugs down by the banks of Rivian. Some times I would wonder into the village of mortal men and see they’re children. They’re my height, but pinkish in skin color with smaller, rounder, eyes, and darker hair. I soon realized that amoungst my people there were no other children, so Mother gave me permission to play with them, and I discovered how much like them I really was.
The human children were always moving, you people sit around like moldy rocks chat. The children were interested in everything, quick to absorb, to learn, My mother always told me to wait, and that there would be plenty of time later. I noticed that I had to have some kinship with them so I began my hunt.
First I went to Mother. I asked her where I came from and she said the earth, so I asked the trolls, who live beneath the ground, they had never seen me, or my kind. I asked the gnomes who live in burrows if they knew me, and they did not. I traveled to the human village to ask them where I came from. I asked if they had ever set eyes on me and the story that they gave was this:
Many years ago a woman in our village came in contact with a creature of the night. The monster was said to be tall, with a strong build and a thick stock of red hair that cascaded down his broad back. His arms were scared and rippleing with musscles, his eyes were the color of fier and his hands and feet were clawed. He was said to be a child of Meristide’s, and in the quiet of the night he was said to have taken the poor vergain out to the forest where he stole from her her purity and robbed her of her maiden’s charm.
The local shaman pronounced her to be pregnet with the child of the beast and the soothsayer told her that the only way to cleans herself of the creature’s evil presence was to slay the child at birth. Months grew into years and it was said to have been a very long and agonizing pregnancy. On the second aniversery of the day she came incontact with the beast, however, the child was finally born. The woman carried the babe far out into the forest but could not bring her self to take the life of her own child, she took her own life instead, and the body of the child was never found.
It was then that human lowered her old, sunken, brown eyes and shook her head. She said that the incident was all but forgoten amongst her people and that it was the story teller alone who could remember. I waited a while, looking into the old woman’s eyes, and then she spoke in a thin whisper, “The mother of the demon’s child was my daughter.” And I left the room, and the old woman alone with her greif.
I do not know if I am that legondary Demon’s child, nor do I honestly beleivce that I will ever find out. I have come upon this, the heighest rock of rivian to ask a question that will not be denied, you have forever but I don’t, I want to know why I’m here and what will become of me when I die.
Then Demmy steped down and a memmer went up amist the gathered crowed. A small human boy looked at his mother and she tasseled his dark brown hair.
“The truth,” Said Karn, strongest of the centars, “is that we do not dwell on things of that matter. We do not ponder it for we could never hope to knowthe answer.”
“Some of the humans,” Marestide spoke up, “Belive that there is a world you go to after yopu pass from this one. They belive that your mind becomes pure energy and that you leave your body. Some call that energy with in a soul and many belive that immortals have no sould.”
“Let us speak for our own kind.” The mother of the brown haired boy called out in a deep voice.
We, being my tribe and I belive that life is a time of trial. We belive that the great creator lit a candel within each one of us and that it burns all of our lifes untill it eventualy, and inevitably burns out. We belive that each of us has many chioces to make about we do here on this world, and it is by what we do that we are judged. If you obay cirtain and few rules of conduct, such as not killing one another, not stealing, or cauing pain, then you will eventualy go to a utopia. A beutifulful world where there is no illness, no famine, and no sorrow. If you are def then in this world you can hear, and all that you hear is sweet, like soft music and the laughter of children. If you are blind then you can see, and all you shall see will be beutiful and grand. Sunsets and roses, and all you will taste and smell will be wholesome and sweet.
But id you are not good. If you prove by your actions that you want to hurt others, or that you cravethings you are not long to have then you will go to a dark abyss where you will sit all alone with nothing to hear and nothing to see, no one to talk to and no one to love, for all eternity. Once you make your decisions in this world it is all over and what happens happens. That is what we belive.
Demmy shook her head. “But, how could you live a cirtain way all of forever, how can you havw have joy with out sorrow? How can you have birth without death?”
The woman smiled kindly at the half gargyol, elvin child. “In the world of utopia death is birth.”
Demmy cocked her head to one side. “Then what about before?” Hse asked, “Before we get here, do we die from a lesser exisstance?”
The old woman shook her head and sighed, “We do not know what coems before, we are all part of our parents, and that s enough for us.”
Demmy still wasn’t convinced. She looked across the hazy blue skys to the people gathered at riven. “Wouldn’t it get awful crowed?” She asked, “I mean if every one can live on for ever and ever then would he place fill up?”
“There is no fill up.” The woman explained, “The world has enless amounts of room and you couild fit every star in the universe comfertably ito it and still have room left over.”
Demmy thought a moment. She didn’t understand how you fit a space like that any where. How could you find room in the universe to fit the whole universe into?
“Don’t ‘cha fill this kid’s head up with lies.” A gruff voice called from over a ledge. Demmy looked around. It was Garil, one of the few trolls let in Colinia. “It depends on a lot of thing, like how you live, what you do, and then when you die you are born as nother person or thing. Depends on how ya die.”
Lemme tell ya astory ‘bout a guy I once knew. You’d never belive what happened to the poor jerk, but hey, that’s life. Now they say that the only way to get by in these days is to follow the rules and not turn astray. You see, take it from me, I saw the guy, tall as a tree, rich, and filthy, there was just one thing he longed for. He wanted to carve his name in a tree, so that it would last an eternity, and he wanted to see just how great he could be, if his name would go down in history, you see.
Well, he climed that old tree to the top, you see, and he began to carve out he letter C, for his name was Cardain, thats with an I not an E, so he worked at it day long, humming a troll’s song, until when he got to the D, he couldn’t go on.
Now before I progress let me adress the matter of Karness, Cardain’s Cherished. She was short sweet and kind, beutyful by troll standerds, tho to be perfectly honest I couldn’t stand her. She devoted her life to the slop, ‘don’t know why, but when she got the news that Cardain had died she climed to the top of that ol’ oak an’ then, she carved out the A, I, and N. But it was a failtle fall that claimed her sweet life.
Now this is the part where it gets kinda strange, I vow that I saw it tho not much remains. I was ling in grass about up to my waist, just humming and chopping (at a slow trollish pace) when up struck a breeze and I saw two leaves followed by two birds way up in the trees. One looked like Cardain and one like Karness, and just up from his name she was building her nest. I swear it was them for they saw me and laughed, and now I can speak for my own behalf, that that bird was Cardain and the girl was Karness, tho he was long slain and she layed to rest, and when my life ends, this I know to be true, I’ll become an egal and soar threw the blue.
Demmy tilted her head ot one side and blinked. She gazed up at the red-tailed bird soaring thrw the abern skies. The sun had fallen fast and now only the very tip of it was visable over the rolling purple mountains.
“So you think that your people turn into birds?” Illutiana asked, and then tilted her head back and laughed, “how silly!”
“What’s silly about it?” Onius asked, “I have had many dealing with trolls and it’s as good a theory as any.”
Illutiana laughed. “But daddy, you can’t honestly belive in it.”
“What’s not to belive?” Garil asked.
Illutiana sat up, she realised that she was being rude and she cleared her throat. “it’s just…” she spoke carefully now, “That your people can’t be born one thing and become another.”
Garil opened his mouth to protest but it was Meristide whospoke, “Many creatures belive that when you die you become another thing? The humans belive that you become energy, and the mer-folk belive that you become foam on the sea.”
“Oh how awful!” Demmy exclaimed coveing her mouth. “They think they just become foam? Floating forever with no feeling?”
“We belive that you float a’top the sea,” Lillia said softly, “Forever gazing upwark learning to understand the great day star, and always learning of the two legged ones who sail on our seas in wooden vessels.”
“When a gnome dies he instantly knows everything, there is no more learning.” Nonar, the tree gnome said, over his wood carving.
“An’ what happens after that?” Demmy asked, her bright eyes glowing life moon stones in the night.
“That’s it.” The gnome said, matter of factly and shruged, “Once you know everything existence is futile, you know everything that happens in the past present and feuture. What more is there to live for?”