#00 birth
[ the beginning or coming into existence of something ]

*edited nov.05.17

When the skies and the grounds were one, the legends, through their twelve forces, nurtured the tree of life. 

Chosen by the foundation of their worlds, the legends, six of day and six of night, were blessed with divine gifts. The well-being of both worlds fell upon their shoulders and became the sole purpose of their being.

Together they travelled to keep the peace, ensuring the citizens of Solem and Lunam remained in a constant state of nirvana. For years, the world's thrived, relying heavily on the art of trade to function. 

The planet Solem, ruled by the Sun, supplied its Yin with heat and energy. Lunam, ruled by the Moon, provided its Yang with water and plants to begin a sustainable ecosystem. 

An eye of red force created the evil which coveted the heart of tree of life, and the heart slowly grew dry. 

Alas, nirvana is not destined to last forever, and all good things must come to an end. 

On the day of the lunar eclipse, the red force was born, created by the union of the sun and moon. The world's bled red, both people and planets alike bathed in the crimson light. 

Curiosity inhabitants turned to the scholars for an explanation, ignoring the pleas of the legends. The dangers the red light held fell upon deaf ears, and ignorant hearts. 

Then site-wide terror caught hold, replacing the nation's inquisitive nature. The red light became a cloud; a fine dust that settled on eyes, and skin, and lungs, igniting an intangible fire that contaminated, corroded, and corrupted minds with whispers of anarchy and discord. 

To tend and embrace the heart of tree of life, the legends hereby divide the tree in half and hide each side. Hence, time is overturned, and space turns askew. The twelve forces divide into two and create two suns that look alike into two worlds that seem alike. The legends travel apart.

The balance between worlds was gone, harmony disrupted by the appearance of the red force. It mutated and evolved out of the legends control into a scale not even they could contain. Brother turned against brother, mother turned against daughter, and bare hands spilt the blood of innocents.

In order to save, they had to destroy, permit themselves to sacrifice. 

The red force was not stopped but contained, within the rift between worlds, and sealed with the Phoenix and Dragon Runes at the cost of their lives and the damnation of future generations. Life regressed, as a result, most animals fell extinct, and human numbers dwindled; the permanent separation of both worlds left them inhabited by hundreds out of thousands. 

Order was needed to restore the hope of the people the ordeal had burnt out and destroyed. Thus, The Core was put in place, to restore the nation's faith and wipe clean all memory of the event. The scholars rewrote history, and the legends became criminalised by those in power.

Centuries passed, and the people adapted, learned to live without the trade as though it were never needed. Factories were built to manufacture and support their own needs, and population count monitored concerning the available resources. 

The weak were an impairment on the economy, taking more than they could provide and hindering the growth of the world. Scholars documented the behaviour of the sick; recording their symptoms and the cause of illness. 

Unable to reverse the symptoms, their cases of Alchemy were classified as terminal, and a new strain of scholars dubbed 'Alchemists' was created.

They learned to identify the onset of Alchemy and the situations that would make one predisposed. It began with numbing, starting at the toes and working upwards until legs were claimed and fingertips tingled with a burdensome nothingness. Both mind and body were adrift, drawn into the void, emotions muted by sudden paralysis.

Most fell, crumbling in one limb at a time or collapsing all at once. Then fear took its place, rooted soul-deep, and choking all rationality. Bodiless voices crept through them like a shiver, ensnared their minds. 

Sanity waned, rots and voices screamed hoarse, cursing with hysterical animosity.

By law, they're deemed defective, humanity lost to the Noise, their now precarious existence an inconvenience to the institution. The Alchemy affected were denounced as citizens and their identification added to the ever-growing pile of the Lost. 

She was no different, her metamorphosis forcing hours of hard labour. The red, blotchy patches of her skin darkened, as veins erupted about her face and neck. Dark eyes had blown, her pupils mad with delirium, fixed upon the damp child on her chest. Distraught, her words oscillated, teetered on the fine line between the real and surreal. Riddled oaths spilt from her lips, spoken in a voice that was not her own.

The legends shall now see the same sky but shall stand on different grounds, shall stand on the same ground but shall see different skies.

"It's hopeless." Spit bubbled between her lips.

The day the grounds beget a single file before one sky in two worlds that seem alike, the legends will greet each other. 

"Restrain her." She fought and clawed at her restraints, threw back her head and howled.

The day the red force is purified, and the twelve forces reunite into one perfect root, a new world shall open up.

"She's one of the Lost now." A gunshot rang out.

White eyes turned blank.

The Reapers came in the silence that followed, instructed to dispose of three-one-five-aitch, a blip in the government's flawless system. A reminder of the terror still plaguing the nations.

Her limp body was dragged away and disposed of, her fate a consequence of the child she bore; a life ended too soon. The credentials she wore were declared compromised, became nothing more than another tag in a pile, another number tallied to the Lost. 

The child was pressed into their father's arms, named and numbered by The Core, and marked as a citizen of their world. 

Pa?

Hm?

Were you thinking about Ma again?

For the boy to live, his wife had to die. He realised that now.

I was.