An omen to the old [archive].

It seems all so silent now, just as a single flake of snow which dances upon a breeze far above any who could feel the wind or cold.

The world still aches and groans and the earth still quakes and shivers from that war of Primal Gods and kin against the Dual God alone. As a bonfire roars and hungers, as a wave crashes and foams, such was the ferocity which echoed about in that time.

But the world seems so devoid of noise even after so long, that those knew it can still hear the deafening silence in their ears, and feel the unease which it brings in its wake. It’s the Sages and Sorcerers who know it most of all, some knowing loss and sorrow for blood which fell, others unsure if they’re alone in their position of greatness in realms where mortals live on unaware.

Though some may try to take control and bring their own ambition to the fore, that silence still echoes within them. And now that mortals grow in strength and number, the Sages most of all can sense the same which came before. Though the intensity of that great war of Primal Gods may never be matched, the silence will always return.

A storm is whispering its presence on the horizon, and only those who remember know to seek shelter.

It seems all so silent now, just as a single flake of snow which brings a blizzard behind it.