This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Schmitty70 on 2024-12-24 10:46:46+00:00.
In the beginning, the four gods made the world. Vaan the Hearth. God of fire, metal, and creation, brought forth the land, waters, and sky with his mighty hammer. Pasran the Wandering Horizon. God of the night, desire, and knowledge, wove the laws of the universe into its fabric and spread her gem studded cloak across the sky to become the cosmos. Rin the Radiant. God of the sun, nature, and magic, imbued the land with her breath and sprouted the grass, trees, animals, and the spirits that reside in them. And finally, Zenrith the King of Blades. God of the dead, judgement, and rebirth, carved the cycle of life and death into the foundation of all life. The four gods saw the world, and saw that it was good.
With the world finished, it came time to create a people to inhabit it, but the gods could not decide. Vaan wanted them to be industrious and create many great works across the land, for that was why he created the land. Pasran wanted them to simply discover the secrets of the world and beyond, for that was why she had laid down her cloak. Rin wanted a mystical people who would live as one with her other creations for eternity, for that was why she had given them life. And Zenrith wished for a chaotic people who would be forever changing, for that was what he believed should be the nature of life.
Eventually, the gods separated and each made their own people. Vaan left for the vast mountains of the west and created the Dwarves, who he gifted the creative ambition of himself as well as the strength and skills to bring them about. Pasran went to the great deserts of the south and created the Beastkin, gifting them superior senses to observe the world with and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and wanderlust. Rin settled in the dense rain forests of the west and created the Elves and gifted them the ability to wield magic and spirits like a part of themselves. And Zenrith claimed the land in the center of them all and created the Humans, who he gave powerful emotions and an indomitable spirit, but also far shorter lives compared to the other races.
Over time, the races developed into civilisations and acted out their creators wills.The Dwarves dug great strongholds into the mountains and developed the most advanced technology in the land. The Beastkin wandered the desert, looked to the stars, and became the most renowned scholars and scientists in the world. And the Elves bent the plants and spirits to their will, creating grand cities within the treetops with their boundless magic.
But the humans… The humans squabbled endlessly. The other races saw the human land fracture and unify, build up and be broken down, sometimes within a single non-human lifespan. As such, the humans were comparatively primitive and their constant cycles of violence lead the others to view them as nothing but savages. This by itself would not be enough for the others to do much more than look down on and ignore the humans, but there was one other oddity that separated them.
They revered their dead. Something the other races did not do.
The non-human races were only given emotional depth and breadth just big enough to comply with their patron gods wishes. They saw the dead as nothing more thana carcass to be disposed of, with burial or cremation only performed out of practicality not ceremony.
But the humans, with their deep and wide range of emotions granted by Zenrith, made many ceremonies and rites regarding the dead in order to remember and celebrate them and their life. And whats more, when a human of particularly strong will dies far from home, their overwhelming desire to return home will sometimes cause the king of blades himself to take pity on them and reanimate their body as a zombie to journey home so that they may be buried by their loved ones.
And this disgusted them.
Eventually, the other races decided that the humans were a waste of space that could better serve themselves and each sent their armies to conquer them. The Dwarves sent towering war machines that could blast through a castle wall in a single blow. The Beastkin proved to be far superior fighters to the humans with their superior senses and strength. And the Elves turned nature and the spirits against the humans, starving them by inducing crop failures and making the very earth swallow their soldiers whole.
One by one human cities, towns, and villages fell and their people slaughtered. Soon the broken halls in the land of the dead were filled with men and women alike who all knelt before the throne of Zenrith. “Oh lord! Please take pity on us and grant our selfish desire to rise once more so we may protect our families!” The souls all cried, and the king of blades wept.
“I have heard your pleas and I have taken pity. I shall grant you my strength so that I may not see your loved ones enter these halls until it is their time” Zenrith bellowed as he rose from his throne to address his creations. “Now rise forth and fulfil your desire, O’ revenant’s of mine!”
On the battle fields of the mortal realm, human corpses littered the land where they were slain, the other races not bothering with burying them as it would only slow their advance. First one by one, then by hundreds, then by thousands, the bodies were swallowed by shadows, and they rose. The shadows jumped and flickered like flames across their skin, and their facial features shone white through the black. They came back not as mere zombies, but as one of Zenrith’s revenant’s, and each carried a blade of shining obsidian.
The revenant’s marched towards the rear of their enemies who had long since advanced past the fields of the risen, and surprised the non-human armies with an attack from behind. Slowly, they began to whittle them down. Their blessed blades now capable of slicing through the Dwarven armour, felled their war machines like lumberjacks. The revenant’s senses and strength, now surpassing those of the Beastkin, cut them down just as easily as the Beastkin had done to them. And with their immortal bodies, the magic of the Elves was useless as no injury was fatal nor lasting.
Eventually, the revenant’s encircled the enemy armies and ground them down to nothing. But they were not done. The king of blades had proclaimed that he did not wish to see their families until it was their time, so they turned and marched towards the borders of human land. And there they stood, warding off the other races from invading again, forever protecting their loved ones. And there they still stand to this very day.