Our world is filled with legends and stories that explain it to us. This story story is a legend about a god born and how he created the season of autumn. But don't be fooled not every one can comprehend the truth in these legends. not every man can register the consequence of asking a question and having to live with the answer.

Dear reader you have been warned.

 

“Listen well my lady, I won’t repeat myself. I neither have the strength nor time to fuel your curiosity. Even scribes are children of eve, just like you and me”

“What legend you wanted my lady? Pause ah….the legend of the silver tongue…one rather nasty bit of magic that is…not for purer of faith. Oh well I’ll tell u anyway.”

It was long before god had separated the realms in heaven and earth and hell didn’t exist. Pleased with his plans for the Arthema, he entrusted his work to 3 sons of Adam and one daughter of eve- the god born.

This tale, mind you, was during the seasons of civil of between the gods born for the control of Arthema. One faction led by Annilise- the god born of war and the other by Karvelar- the god born of chaos. It was a dark time for the Arthema kind. There were more souls in purgatory than on the lands itself.

But here my lady is the real reason why the war ended, karvelar’s second in command- scion – the god hand of seasons had lost his heart to Annilise seasons before the civil unrest. But his loyalty to his brother in arms tore them apart. Love….young lady, vile little thing that is. Better stay away unless you can endure its curse.

But I digress.

But like most in love they’d celebrate their love in secret. Disguised as mortal children they’d meet in the gardens of the temple of the god born.

But alas my lady as all tragedies go their secret eventually got out. Betrayed by her own, they were discovered and captured by the general of Karvelar and dragged before his war counsel.

What you need to remember here my lady in those seasons of the ancients the ruling of prisoners of war was silver imprisonment. Same even say the pair being proud swan of the only god had made peace with their fate.

It was a dark night, no stars shone that night nor did the moon lay its grace on the lands. The council had gathered and the ruling was to be passed.

But crafty as the god born of chaos was-  he and his council offered Annilise a deal – to bow down to Karvelar and they’d spare scion the silver imprisonment and she’d just be a hostage of war till order was restored. Naturally for the sake of her only love she agreed and the entire army of ranks upon ranks had been broken to obey Karvelar.

When all was said and done, Annilise called upon the contract with the god born and his council, but drunk with power and pride, Karvelar had his prisoners brought to court and in the full view of the Arthema that watched he thrust his silver septre at Annilise’s heart.

In an attempt to save his love scion pushed her aside and took the blow. He crashed into her embrace, the spell turning him into silver.
Enraged, that he was cheated of his grand plan, the god born of chaos pushed his septre through scion into Annilise’s heart. , the winds held their breath and all life drew into themselves.

As the God born and her love lay there as their energy source deserted them; scion called unto all life on Arthema for help.
Saddened by their plight, the trees answered and pushed their life source into their god hand, as they did so, their leaves wilted and fell their wood ran dry and the weather grew cold…thus was created the winter.

Even though they couldn’t be saved that night; it is said just before every winter the trees continue to offer their life source to revert the spell, hence the season of autumn.

And when the spell shall fail,
In all glory and might,
Love lost shall unite,
Even though it has been before,
There shall be autumn no more.

“But scribe….why is it called the legend of the silver tongue…” asked the day.

“Well….” He said “…it must have been some kind of translation error…you see the syllable for tongue and god sound the same in the language of the ancients.”

“But scribe how do you know that there will be no autumn anymore?” questioned the lady as she teased the candle light with parchment knife. But she got no reply so she turned to force her answer but the scribe was long gone.

All that was there was a vine that has started to outgrow the scriptures. The Flowers that bloomed fell off their holds and hung in the air with a yellow glow.

Thin stream of snowflakes began to drop where she stood and an ominous voice muttered “because my lady, in in no need of the life source anymore.”