Lin
04-06-06, 06:54 PM
There was a brief flickering moment when the light of the Eudaemonian Empire shined on the town of Ildereth. While most Gamma Spacers were mustering arms to fight an invasion, the Ilderans welcomed a new hope into their lives and indulged themselves in a world of fantasy come to life. Where once there were tiny flickering lamp posts snuffed out in the rainy costal weather, the eternal blue glow of phase technology banished the dark night to a mere memory. Where once there were haggard masses withering from hunger, all the necessities of life flowed out in endless supply. They gave Eudaemonians not only the loyalty they demanded, but a faith and devotion they never expected.
And then one day they were gone…
It wasn’t the day Architelos fell from the sky. It took more than one catastrophe to drive away the Eudaemonians. After all, they were born from tragedy. They were the survivors of a ruined world, the remnants of a now shattered order, and still they had their dignity. They still called themselves an Empire, and most importantly to Ildereth, they still cared for their provinces. The energy kept flowing, the lights kept glowing, and everything was alright.
Until it all fell apart…
The abandonment didn’t come suddenly. It was the sort of slow process that no one noticed until it was already too late. And by then no one would admit it. To this day the city is called Ildereth Provincial Seat of the First Province of the Grand Eudaemonian Empire. Those words remain etched in a sign that leans against the building it once adorned. The building itself is fashioned of the finest metallic alloys, immune to corrosion. But the structure has fallen all the same. Its surface no longer shines, covered in dirt. Electrical panels lie uncovered, spitting sparks day and night as the street lights crackle, fading in and out.
Ildereth is a dead town, an eerie mechanical corpse…
And yet people still live there. People still work, children are still born, tales are still told. Lin grew up hearing the same tales every child did, about the miserable past and the glorious coming of Eudaemonia. She grew up believing them, even as she heard them against a backdrop that seemed more like the beginning of the stories than the end. Everyone was supposed to live happily ever after, and so they did.
They did the best they could…
What was left of the machines still functioned. There was still food, if you could call it that. All that came from the wondrous devices that had once provided a cornucopia of delights was a thin gruel. All that illuminated the night sky were a few still functioning light posts. All that kept them warm were fires lit from the sparks of broken relics of a lost age.
This was the world Lin was born in to…
And it was the world she was left in. Three weeks after her nineteenth birthday, her mother died. That was no explanation offered, and none was expected. People died all the time in Ildereth and those who remained preferred not to ask why. Families and friends stood silent as the ones they knew were fed into the gaping maw of the one device that still functioned just as it always had, the generator that ran everything. The bodies of the dead were placed next to piles of garbage and all was consumed to sustain the husk of a life for those left behind.
But Lin didn’t stay silent…
She cried. She cried and wondered how people kept living. Living in the shadow of death was something she couldn’t do. When her father left, she had never questioned it. He would come back one day, she thought. But before long she regretted watching him go with calm silence. She regretted not chasing after him. Now there was nothing to keep her in Ildereth.
And so she left to find the world from her childhood stories, the dream world made manifest…
Eudaemonia.
And then one day they were gone…
It wasn’t the day Architelos fell from the sky. It took more than one catastrophe to drive away the Eudaemonians. After all, they were born from tragedy. They were the survivors of a ruined world, the remnants of a now shattered order, and still they had their dignity. They still called themselves an Empire, and most importantly to Ildereth, they still cared for their provinces. The energy kept flowing, the lights kept glowing, and everything was alright.
Until it all fell apart…
The abandonment didn’t come suddenly. It was the sort of slow process that no one noticed until it was already too late. And by then no one would admit it. To this day the city is called Ildereth Provincial Seat of the First Province of the Grand Eudaemonian Empire. Those words remain etched in a sign that leans against the building it once adorned. The building itself is fashioned of the finest metallic alloys, immune to corrosion. But the structure has fallen all the same. Its surface no longer shines, covered in dirt. Electrical panels lie uncovered, spitting sparks day and night as the street lights crackle, fading in and out.
Ildereth is a dead town, an eerie mechanical corpse…
And yet people still live there. People still work, children are still born, tales are still told. Lin grew up hearing the same tales every child did, about the miserable past and the glorious coming of Eudaemonia. She grew up believing them, even as she heard them against a backdrop that seemed more like the beginning of the stories than the end. Everyone was supposed to live happily ever after, and so they did.
They did the best they could…
What was left of the machines still functioned. There was still food, if you could call it that. All that came from the wondrous devices that had once provided a cornucopia of delights was a thin gruel. All that illuminated the night sky were a few still functioning light posts. All that kept them warm were fires lit from the sparks of broken relics of a lost age.
This was the world Lin was born in to…
And it was the world she was left in. Three weeks after her nineteenth birthday, her mother died. That was no explanation offered, and none was expected. People died all the time in Ildereth and those who remained preferred not to ask why. Families and friends stood silent as the ones they knew were fed into the gaping maw of the one device that still functioned just as it always had, the generator that ran everything. The bodies of the dead were placed next to piles of garbage and all was consumed to sustain the husk of a life for those left behind.
But Lin didn’t stay silent…
She cried. She cried and wondered how people kept living. Living in the shadow of death was something she couldn’t do. When her father left, she had never questioned it. He would come back one day, she thought. But before long she regretted watching him go with calm silence. She regretted not chasing after him. Now there was nothing to keep her in Ildereth.
And so she left to find the world from her childhood stories, the dream world made manifest…
Eudaemonia.