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Backstory
I can still hear the echo of her final breath. Faint, nearly forgotten. These lands are broken, like her body. You see? They are the same.
A candle in darkness. Once lit, now extinguished. The wick glows dimly, but no hope of light. A thin line of curling smoke marks her last breath.
This is the Hunger, my child. The Hunger is not a thing. It is no “thing” at all. What means "darkness" ?
Where once, there was light. What is "cold" ? Where once, there was heat. What is the Hunger ? Where once, there was life.
Can you hear it? The silence? Once, our world had a pulse. Her blood, that molten rock which once flowed so strongly through her veins… it slows, now, and thickens.
My brothers, sisters and I cannot heal your world. Dead stays dead. Unlife is not life. This is the way.
I weep, but it matters not. When the last warmth is gone, I will weep no more. ...for I, too, will be cold.
