the story - Gathering the Threads. Hope you like it.
EXTRACTS FROM FREDERICK PASK’S BOOK OF SECRETS
Translated by Pask from ancient, unidentified source material
Everything is finished. I am the last of us and I’m disintegrating into dirt, just like all the others. This is the last time that I will record that I am Andor, the last of the Darovit – the Gifted Ones who made the Earth and everything on it. We designed it, built it, nurtured it, ruled it and finally destroyed it. And ourselves.
We became proud. And worse than that – we became bored. And when we were proud enough and bored enough we began to quarrel amongst ourselves. We grew to distrust each other and, when quarrelling didn’t resolve our distrust, to hate each other. We turned our creativity – our supreme gift – into devising ever more destructive weapons. At last we built a weapon that harnessed and magnified the power of the Sun. And we used it.
The Earth – so green and teeming with life – burned, and we burned with it. But we didn’t die. We can’t die. Not entirely. Instead, we changed. We withered and crumbled, but we retained our life force. Once we were tall and sturdy like trees; now we are ashes and dust. Once we stood proud beneath the Sun; now we must skulk in the shadows and the night. Light is now our enemy. Our days in the Sun are over.
We must live forever, ugly and twisted. Our days of creativity have ended. What energy remains to us must now be channelled into preventing the disintegration of our bodies. When we don’t concentrate on remaining whole we break down into dust, but even then every atom retains its own consciousness. Each speck of our dust remains full of knowledge and sorrow and regret. There is no escape from ourselves. Ever. This is our punishment. It is well-deserved.
One day, countless centuries from now, the Earth will heal itself. Other races will arise to rule over it. We will be watching our successors from the dark places, remorseful and jealous. And we will hate them and seek their destruction.