003 | [Audio]

[epicbraille]

It's far too cold outside for a trip to the library, but I've finished all the books in my apartment. Who knows a good story, urban legend, or rumour? I'd love to hear something new, anything really.

[ A guy has to make do until he can get his hand on some fresh literature. ]

It's a little late in the year for ghost stories, although November is traditionally the month of the dead so I'll listen nonetheless.

Comments

[voice]

[forceofnature]

Once upon a time, a bunch of stupid humans decimated the wildlife, ravaged the land, and devastated the forests until one day, the planet had enough and turned them all into trees.

The End.

[voice]

[epicbraille]

[ Well that was brief. ]

I'm surprised it took the planet so long to react, or the smart humans didn't step in at some point.

[ Yeah, he sensed the tone. ]

[forceofnature]

The smart humans were outnumbered like 1000 to 1 so they all got killed early on in the human wars.

It's OK, though, there was a happy ending.

[voice]

[greatseal]

I could tell you a story a friend of mine wrote...

[hopefully before her brother spots this and manages to preempt her.]

[epicbraille]

I'd like that, so long as your friend wouldn't mind. Or, I suppose, doesn't mind, if they're also in the city.

[greatseal]

He's not in the city, but I don't think he'd mind. Stories are meant to be told.

[greyerrant]

I know a good tale, or so I've been told.

[epicbraille]

Can I expect a heart wrenching tale of harlequin-romance?

[ No no, he is totally kidding. ]

[greyerrant]

No, it is a tale of war.

[voice]

[pastalishe]

Would a legend do? I don't believe I know any stories, but I have studied mythology since I was a child.

[epicbraille]

Mythological stories are some of my favourites, so please continue.

[pastalishe]

Then I shall tell you one of the tales of Rhaplanca and Maoh, from the zodal rhaplanca line. It is a tale that comes in two parts--and this is the first.

[There are soft, rustling sounds on the feed, as Cloche settles herself into a comfortable position--after all, the tales of Rhaplanca and Maoh tend to be very, very long stories. Once settles, she begins to speak in the low, even voice of someone reciting a piece they have learned (mostly) by heart.]

Once upon a time, in the faraway past so long ago that is naught but a dim memory, there was a poor land. Every day, the sun shone brightly over the cracked, dry earth. The people who lived there sowed many seeds over that withered land. But, no matter how hard they worked, they could only harvest enough food so they could eat the next morning. Everyone worked hard and struggled just to survive.

Everything changed when a girl named Rhaplanca crafted the divine tree Implanta. Through the blessing of this tree, the land became moist and fertile. The people ate its fruits and were content. For many years, no one worried if they would have enough food to eat or water to drink. Alas, nothing lasts forever—not even the power of Implanta. When its strength began to fade, little by little, sand began to blow back into the land. It was obvious to all the people that it would not support the land for much longer.

But all was not lost. Rhaplanca, blessed by the gods, was able to commune her heart with Implanta. When she sang, she could craft magical seeds: each seed could grant the wish of a single person. One day, she gathered the people of the dying land and told them:

“Use the powers of my seeds. Wish for this world to be enshrouded in greenness. Wish for the water to drift about it.
If you do this, you will never have to worry about food anymore. No one will be troubled when they wish to find water.
If you do as I say, this land will become joyful and prosperous—and that prosperity will last until the time of the grandchildren of your grandchildren.
To give birth to a prosperous land, a thousand seeds are necessary. From this day forward, I will sing for a thousand days in the temple to create the seeds.
Please, until the thousandth day comes, protect these seeds. I entrust them to you. Do not use them—instead, cultivate them with the feelings you have for this land.”

With these words, Rhaplanca confined herself in the temple. As she sang and crafted the seeds, the days came and passed her by. Nothing existed for her but her song: whatever happened outside the temple, she knew none of it. All she wished for was the happiness of this world. She sang every day to craft the thousand seeds, one by one, using all of the strength that her frail body possessed.

Finally, the day came when she crafted the thousandth seed. When Raphlanca went out from the temple, holding the seed in her hand, she could not believe the scene that lay before her. The world that she looked at was not one of happiness, filled with the warm smiles of the people.

Of all the seeds that she had crafted, the only one that remained was the one that she held in her hand. All the rest had been used up to satisfy selfish desires. The city had fallen into depravity: the people drowned themselves in alcohol and excess, living in palaces, while the world around them withered and died.

But this was not yet enough. The people desired the thousandth seed that Rhaplanca had crafted: the only seed that was left, that she still held within her hands. When they saw that she had it, the people began to scramble and fight for the seed. They even killed each other for it. Finally, they hung Rhaplanca up by her hands. Someone cried,

“Craft the thousand-first seed!”

And then, as if those words had helped them settle the dispute, the people began to shout and scream at her.

“Craft the thousand-first seed! Craft the thousand-first seed! Craft the thousand-first seed!”

When it was all over Rhaplanca used the last of her strength to crawl away from the city, carrying with her the last seed. She came to a hill where there was just one dead tree—a tree that had once given enough fruit to feed all the people—fell down to her knees, and wept bitterly. She was terribly weak, for she had no strength left from crafting the thousand seeds. Yet, her tears would not stop.

“How could this have happened? Is it the fault of the humans... or does it lie with me, for being so foolish?
Why... would the humans betray me like that? Why... would the humans deprave themselves like that...?
There is... only one reason why. And that is because, more than anything else, every living person fears death...”

When Rhaplanca realized this, she decided to create the true utopia by using the thousandth seed. She raised it up and made a single wish:

“Please, bestow eternal rest upon this land. Give birth to a world without life nor death...”

[voice]

[primordial]

O-oh, I don't like ghost stories, they're rather frightening. But I do know a couple of spooky fairy tales, actually! I used to read them to my sister, she really liked hearing them when she was younger.

[epicbraille]

As did my sister, although she often wound up too scared or excited to sleep. Rather counterproductive, I'd say.

Are we talking about classic Grimm stuff, or something else?

[primordial]

Really? Guess mine was just a bit more brave than yours- she slept fine afterwards. I think I was the one who got less sleep after stuff like that, honestly...

Oh, well, I did read Grimm, but a while back I found a book of Russian tales that were pretty bizarre, if I do say so myself...

[ghost_shield]

I'm afraid all the ghost stories I could tell you are the ones that I've dealt with, and a lot of them are kind of boring.

[epicbraille]

That's to be expected for a professional such as yourself. The medium divide strikes again.

[ Hilarious. ]

[spaztastic]

Would an urban legend from back home count?

[epicbraille]

It would indeed.

[deathboss]

Can we NOT talk about rumors?

[epicbraille]

We don't have to if you don't want to. Did someone make up a nasty rumour about you?

[voice]

[yoursandmine]

[The prompt for a story reminds him of something, so fumbling with the technology for a good minute or two finally gives him some way to reply, even if he starts of a little slow.]

Well... uh.

...There was a great big world. All light and nice. The people were happy.

Except they started to fight. The fighting allowed the darkness into the world, and everything was destroyed.

[Is this lame? It sounds sort of boring; Roxas isn't quite sure he's telling it right.]

[But that's easy enough to do when you have no idea where the stories coming from.]

Except for the lights in children. And.. because of those lights, we have the worlds we know today. Distant and far apart.

[Yep. Lame.]

[epicbraille]

[ Oh. Perhaps 'lame' is a bit strong. Mishmash of ideas might be a better way of putting it. ]

I get the distinct impression you've glossed over a few points, but the general idea shines through.

voice

[untiemyhands]

_{[It's a girl's voice talking, but it's almost painfully raspy to hear - like sand-laden air through old pipes, or something like that. It edges just above being a hiss.]}

A local's legend sounds best when you're living in the setting. I have a couple stories that aren't so boring out of their homes, though, if you're keen for cannibals and things. I'll trade them if you'll tell me some back.

[epicbraille]

I don't know if I'm keen on the idea, as such, but I'd be more than willing to listen all the same. Whether my stories from home can match up to such a taboo remains to be seen.