Word from the Bird

The Phases of Oboru - I

Disclaimer: This story describes a war and the destruction of a city. It is purposefully vague but might feel emotionally intense to some. Please read at your own discretion.

Come, and let me tell you a story of the olden times: a time of great wisdom and purpose within these desert lands, when the world was filled with magic that enlightened inquisitive minds and brought prosperity to all who sought it. It was a time when magic was pure, simple and gifted by the gods and goddesses, long before being riddled by the foul energy and manipulations of today's villainous beings. Sit by me – a humble wizard lizard – and hear my tall tale, if it would please you. This is the legend, passed to me by word of mouth, of how the land was molded thousands of years ago and how my desert home came to be.

There once was a time when the scorching desert of the Bleak Expanse was a grand forest of old. It brimmed with lush foliage, blackberry bushes and sparkling rivers and streams. It was inhabited by faeries, sprites and other forest spirits who would play within the branches of its great coniferous trees. They would guide lost travelers back to overgrown paths covered by pine needles and animal tracks, but long forgotten to time by the people. Crossing the mountains to seek entrance to these forest valleys was perilous, but all who succeeded were greeted by a vista of what can only be described as paradise.

It is said that within these peaceful forests resided an elven kingdom known as Xolm. It can be argued that it was the very center – an apogee – of all magical knowledge on the northern continent at the time, for the elves were an innovative people. Perhaps it was by the effort and grace of these elves that magic came to be and flourished within this plane of existence so long ago, for they spread its foundation to the other budding civilizations that inhabited the land. But this is no more than my own speculation, of course, for little to no records of such have been found. All that exists now are fragmented ruins within the desolate wasteland that both my people and desert raiders have since colonized.

I believe that the elves of Xolm worshiped a pantheon of all manner of animal gods and goddesses that lived within their forests. But their most beloved goddess of all – one who is still the notorious inspiration of sparse cults to this day, might I add – was known as the Spider Goddess. She was once a benevolent being who weaved the web of life and, at its conclusion, wrapped her faithful into silken cocoons to be reborn again. A crumbling monument on the outskirts of the Bleak Expanse can still be found as proof of her past worship. While her benevolent beginnings have long been pushed by the wayside, her last moments of fury still live on in the imaginations of desert villagers to this day.

Xolm lived long in tranquil seclusion – a hub dedicated to study and the arts – but their peace inevitability came to an end. It is said that Xolm's destruction and the fall of the elves was caused by an ancient warlord: a phoenix cursed with immortality and a desire to conquer that could never be sated. It came to this plane of existence to wage war and destruction of the likes that has never been seen before. There is no way of knowing whence the warlord came, but its arrival and warring shook the continents of the world and descended all of its people into a deep, harrowing shade of mauve that blocked out the sun itself.

The warlord's arrival occurred in the middle of a staid, moonlit night – as unassuming as any other you and I settle down to in the evening. The sky above Xolm was sliced open by a portal from another plane, and from it the behemoth of a phoenix emerged. Hundreds of thousands of elves were shaken awake, deafened by the glass-shattering thunder of its arrival. They rushed into the streets of the metropolis and quieted as their fellows pointed at the sight that flew above them. All were shocked into a collective state of awe as they hearkened the monster's unearthly cries, and were blinded by its purple fire. It could be heard for miles across the land, from the city to all of the smaller towns and villages nestled within the forest.