Description
Tw: slight amnesia Derealization Painful memories Deaths There was a small child, around the age 9 or 10, wandering the barren land. The cold, white stone tapping loudly under his hooven-like feet. He ran, running from the terrors that would take him, the terrors that took his parents. The child, deathly aware of the foreigners that would come to take their home's treasure and take their god, their mother, Ranender, or known as the ender dragon to the foreigners. The child was aware the foreigners were dangerous, but they never killed his people, not until now. Stronger foreigners came, took his family away. The child ran, ran for nearly 10 foreigner years through the outskirts of his home land. He never settled. He'd get clothing, goods, things to help him along, he'd teleport through his home, until he fell. He missed the edge of the floating islands, and fell; fell down, and down, and down until all that was left was intense dark, that if which he'd never seen. His gaze, it flashed into the brightest tone of light he'd ever seen. Blinding, his eyes took multiple moments to adjust. Coming to, he saw the bright colored sky, the soft mushy ground below him, he wasn't home. Somewhere completely different, he was in a different home than his own.
Wheat in the fields
