Dawn of the Nephilim

17. The history of humans, Graie and Nephilim part II

He was about to respond when Eloï'inda opened her mouth. But instead of talking, like he had expected, she wordlessly began to sing, emitting mesmerizing vocals. More than anything, it made him think of the hymns of celestial beings, carried by the wind of other planets along the plains of stars and time. Ronan was inexorably drawn towards this song that was no song, finding it remarkably soothing. More so than even any lullaby his mother had ever sang to him. Warm and cold shivers ran down his spine, and for a moment he felt safe as a swaddled babe, certain that the world was nothing but a basket of love and pleasant embraces.

Was it possible to trap the spirit of the open fields, of the ocean and the mountains, in a song without words? Apparently it is. As Eloï'Inda sang, her expression softened, and it seemed as if light started to emanate from within and behind her. Her eyes turned an almost golden brown. They lured him in, urged him to get lost inside. Only by the skin of his teeth, he remained with himself.

A sudden gush of wind started to pass by, carrying with it all the most delightful smells of nature, and the scents of the seasons. The grass around them sprouted as though it were the onset of spring. Even in the bald patches, fresh dots of green came to the surface. Two birds suddenly emerged out of nowhere, and flew around them in circles. Even as they went, their colors deepened, and new colors were added unto them. When they eventually winged off, they were no longer the same. Seemingly complete now, they had become what they were once meant to be. Complete beings in an incomplete world. The thought came with a pang of sadness.

As the song came to fullness, Ronan started to forget any preconceptions he had about the woman, now bathed in light as if she were Ionara himself. Old hurts that he carried inside of him seemed to be torn open, brought to the surface. With great care, they were looked at, and treated, one by one. Not everything seemed to be treatable, and he felt a sadness from outside of him at those hurts. Blossoms sprouted up between the grass. Flowers, blue, yellow, red, pink, purple. More flowers, and more special flowers than he had ever seen. He knew their names, if only for an instant. He felt their petals waving in the wind and something else, in the water around the island. It started to swirl, slowly, ever so slowly, and began to stream around the island. Vaguely, he could hear the sound of a rushing torrent. Like himself, it became in a way purified. The animate and the inanimate were released of some of the chains of their past, and the earth had a taste of new beginnings.

Then the song changed, now enunciating profound grief. A grief such as he could not comprehend. The trees around him bent away from it. They shed their leaves to the wind, only for new ones to occur. But these leaves were red instead of green, which somehow suited them more than the leaves they had had before. He too, could not escape this roaring anguish. The vastness of it all made his infirm, childlike feelings pale in comparison. Eloï'inda's eyes became two portals of stark green, shot through with black blotches. He motioned for her to please stop, for he could take no more.

The singing slowly abated. The light coming out of her became softer, less bright. The water around the island started to come to a halt. Ronan was so overcome by her anguish and sadness that he did the only thing he knew doing when he saw someone that sad. He edged towards her, extended his arms and took her into a tight embrace. She tensed under his arms, but did not stop him. Her light did not burn him. The singing stopped, radiance faded, and he hugged on for dear life. Then all was still again, but the island was not, and would never be the same again, until the ravages of time wiped all the land to rocky bone. Just like him. Of that, he was certain.

He heard a soft whisper in his ear. "Thank you Ronan, you remind me of the reason why we came to you so very long ago." He didn't understand, he didn't let go. He felt a slight tap on his shoulder and knew it was time to stop. When he did, the enchantment would fall away. With pain in his heart, he unclenched his muscles. Looking into her face, he found kindness, even as he saw tears winding their way past invisible skin reliefs. She is as fickle as the wind. What is she? What are they?

"You... have my attention now." He shivered and hugged his knees against his chest. "A bit of oomph indeed."

She managed a weak smile. She didn't wipe away the tears on her face, yet they disappeared. "We are but messengers. But we don't always control the message." She shook her head a little as if to clear it. "Now you are ready to hear the story Ronan. For it is much like this that we made contact with the humans so very long ago. Some of our men looked upon the daughters of man, and they desired them. They were the first, but not the last. We came. With all our knowledge and power we came to the humans. To teach them. And to have company with them. They knew so little. We pitied them, and envied their innocence. It was this innocence that sprang in our hearts the desire."

Ronan felt his hands were still shaking from what he had experienced. The very air around him still seemed to be affected. They have been with humans before? Why did they leave? Why don't I know this? He did not speak any of his questions. "Yes it was their innocence. But in innocence, there also lies great danger, such as we did not comprehend at that time. Alas, if only we had seen." Her eyes started to gleam a bit as she continued. "For innocence is not the same as goodness. And we knew not of the evil that lies in the hearts of man. We held their disregard for life and other creatures for ignorance, a not being able to grasp how their actions affect others. There certainly seemed to be good in the hearts of man. Good like you just showed when you tried to comfort me, even when you did not know how, could not hope to succeed." Ronan swallowed down hard.

"And we did teach them many of the things we know. They were eager to learn, the humans. Their learning capabilities were staggering, and we rejoiced. We were however too blind to see, that many did not learn with the aim to understand, but to possess. They weren't interested in what the power of the sun was, they wanted to know how to harness this power. Yet we ignored all the signs, tending to humanity's growth like a prized garden. Those of your kind grew in knowledge, appearance, and age, inventing great things, building on what we taught in an unbelievable manner. So great was the potential of man." She paused for a second, and glanced over to where Tiar'Mara lay, still deathly pale, as ever with her eyes closed, her hair parted around her like a black veil, like a fallen unkindness of ravens.

"We were confident that soon we would completely free the humans of the spell of aging and inevitable mortality. Together we eagerly labored towards this goal. Then came the dreadful day where the first Graie, for that is our name, dared to make one of the most intimate connections of all with humans. You often call it marriage, I believe, though you are not everywhere monogamous. These new socities built cities, and other wonders such as have not before, nor since been created. There were those among the Graie that warned against this mixing of races. Because despite all our knowledge, we did not yet truly fathom the nature of men. And as such, there was no certainty about the offspring of such a mix. In the end, our arrogance deceived us. Or maybe naive is the better word for it. Your language has its limits when it comes to expressing things. The naive arrogance of creatures that thought they could conquer their own faults. And we paired." Ronan thought for a second about mixing with such a race, and at this moment he could certainly not find a reason not to. They are beautiful.