Earth Remembers
- Kitsukin

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Hers was a line of historians, who kept record of the world and all
its creatures alive long after their mortal threads had spun out and
crumbled to dust. She knew the glory of things past, the wisdom 
born of mistakes. She knew the cycle of conflict and enlightenment, how
short-lived memory was in those not blessed with her unquestionable
ties to the land. The knowledge was always there, a warm and
accessible weight in her head. The key to awakening them would 
pass down in story and song from grandmother to mother, then to her, 
the daughter.

Her turn now, to safekeep the knowledge of the world. The role she
played had many names: herald, weaver, storyteller. It was a heavy
responsibility to wear. To remind of past triumphs, and also warn
against past deeds done in shame. She would speak with every 
voice reborn into her through the transition of death. The father, mother,
brothers and sisters who would never be forgotten so long as she
whispered their legacy into the ongoing saga of life. She was the
defiant spark of immortality conceived by mortal genius.

The broken pillars were cool under her feet, her fingers slipping into
the cracks between as she climbed the decaying remains of an 
ancient civilisation. The ghosts here were old, blended into a single,
benevolent presence in the air. They recognised her without seeing,
trusting her to respect their eternal sleep. Sweat and dust curled
lazily on her skin as she reached the highest point, overlooking the
horizon as the new day dawned out of the rusty mists.

Sunlight smoothed the planes of her face with a touch as gentle as
benediction. She crouched, digging her staff in beside her for better
balance. The muted sounds of the world waking drifted up to her 
from far below, and she smiled. Tilting her head up, knowing that they
could all see her, she indulged in her favourite memories. Natural as
breathing, they flowed from her mouth in a sing-song litany in a dead
language that remembered the beginning of the world.

I who remember all, she thought, let me tell you the stories of our
past.