from nothing comes something.

Slowly, slowly they were regaining their homelands. It was a hopeless endeavor and a thing that would be crushed after fifty or so years passed, but the creatures of filth and decay seemed to grow tired of battle after battle. So there was quiet as the Earthen Mother and her warriors pressed on, hacking through a black, sticky substance that wrapped around tree trunk after tree trunk.

“This is…disgusting.” The youngest Maiden–newly joined–had never been outside the sanctuary before. Thalia spared her a glance as they approached a small settlement. Of course the monsters were there–nearly fifty of them outside and now lining up, a curious throng of beasts that hissed and sputtered amongst themselves.  Coated in the same tar like substance, they reeked. All of them festering just below the surface, yet something intangible gave them life and desire. “Thalia, what do we–” But the girl fell silent when the Earthen Mother shook her head.

A large being with golden eyes and rotting flesh approached. The tar oozed from the openings, dripping onto the ground as it lumbered forward. The Maidens, save for Thalia, readied their weapons. She signaled for them to back off. Stepping forward, Thalia met the monster in the middle of the field, raising the palm of her hand upward in greeting.

The beast’s hand was massive, covering her hand and forearm as it wrapped its putrid fingers around her limb. Thalia expected to be thrown  or maimed, yet the beast only held her arm gently, eyes searching for answers that the Earthen Mother was unable to give. “I am Thalia. What is your name?”

It spoke in hisses and roars–nothing that Thalia understood–and when the beast saw that look of confusion, it uttered a cry of sorrow.  Of longing. Thalia turned back to the Maidens, cheeks pale despite her best efforts of ignoring the fear that twisted her gut. “Go back.” When her warriors did not move, the Earthen Mother’s eyes narrowed. “It is an order, not an option.”

Slowly, they began to depart, not entirely willing to leave their leader with that of which they presumed were going to kill them. The beast’s hand released Thalia from its grasp. It regarded her with wide eyes, forgetting for a moment that the Earthen Mother was a thing to be feared, but the beast wanted and wanted, so the beast had to have whatever it was that the rickety thing thrumming in its chest desired.

Together, Thalia and the beast walked back toward the throng. Its steps were labored and the Earthen Mother felt its pain as if it were her own. Some of the skin on the hand which had held onto Thalia’s arm only moment’s ago peeled and fell off, giving way to more of the tar that wreaked havoc upon the Children’s ancient lands.

The throng split into two, allowing a path to open up for both Mother and beast to walk upon. The beast hissed sharp and swift at one of the tar covered beasts and it fetched a small basket, covered with tar and brittle to the touch. Laying inside of it was a seed the size of a fist–what it meant Thalia did not know, but when the large being before her held the basket with utmost care, she knew that it was important.

No longer able to stand, the beast sank to its knees, exhaustion taking over. Loud shrieks of despair came from all around. Whatever the beast was, it was dying. Despite its short time left outside of the Fray, it grunted as its arms shook, holding the basket out toward her. Once Thalia took the golden colored seed from the basket, the beast’s arms dropped back to its side, more skin sloughing off as it looked up to her with labored breath.

Thalia set the seed into her satchel where it was safe from decay and woe. She wished to study it, to see what would grow from it, but the beast wished for her to remain, to see whatever this was through, so Thalia turned her attention to the dying figure. Reaching down, she wrapped her arms around the beast, though they were only able to reach halfway around its torso. She held the beast, pressing her head against its chest, eyes widening at the sound of a heartbeat that reminded her of the rushing rivers that had once felt refreshing against her skin.

“You are…but a man.” She spoke slowly, as her hands reached up to trace his cheekbones, horrified when one of his eyes simply rolled off the corner of his cheekbone and onto the dirt. He stopped breathing.