As Hominity ages and slowly becomes time-worn, the weight of months and years eventually takes it toll. Even the most powerful, the bravest themselves among us cannot ward off this tragic destiny. Sooner or later, time wins the terrible fight.
There was one Homin that I would have given much to see to live longer, a Homin whom I could have loved but who seemed to care more about all living Homins than everything else on Atys. I would gladly have given my life to bring him back.
My Master will always be, for me, the one that we should thank for this new world. Without his tenacity and his gallantry, I would not even be here to write these words. Neither an emperor nor a king was he, but only a Fyros; only a Homin. That doubtless, is why fickle Atys has forgotten he who once was my master.
Stories rarely concern ordinary Homins, even if this one was called the Surveyor of the Rainbows and even the Navigator of the Stars. But who remembers what our world was like in those distant days? Most of those who travel around Atys do not even know what a rainbow is. It would take time and patience to explain our life : the leaving without hope of a return, the blind trust in an irrational hope, those chill days snuggling up to each other in the darkness as we hid from the invisible enemy, the final bravery for taking again that road which led to elsewhere…
All that struggle and hardship to find, after three long years that seemed to last an eternity, Coriolis ‘fields. All that toil to earn the new beginning, to rebuild and to strive and to be forgotten in turn; to be nothing more than a legend, a fireside tale. My master never lived to see how his work has ended up.
Of his great art, his reading of the stars, his caution and skill in extreme danger, he has left us almost nothing. Except for me, there must be only Deutheus Xaphaan who is still alive, if I can trust the last travelers who dare to walk in the deep lands of Atys, and with whom I can talk sometimes.
Deutheus is so strong! How could she still live in the light! I wonder if she has found a place in this new world. As for me, the simple sight of Atys’ surface brings me back memories that are simply too painful. Here, my life seems to have a sense and a purpose. I help people in need, rescuing the unlucky and the foolhardy alike from danger… Who could know the Road of the Umbra better than me? Even the Pyromanciers, who finally adopted me, rarely leave their village. Remaining here is the only way I have discovered to relive and act upon the teachings of my Master.
Time wipes out slowly our footprints on Atys… What remains from what we once were? Who remembers the Homin that was Rydon? Homins leave us in death, and the things that they have made will equally decay with the long years’ turn.
My master, however, will always cast his rainbow shadow on Atys as long as I endure to keep alive what he once was, and that great deed that he performed for all Homins…