When Imagination was Mellifluous

There was a time when reality was non-existent and what roamed freely was the people, who only a special one could see. Imagination at this time was at its highest peak and was mellifluous like a turquoise stream. Happiness was at a large milestone that battled the stormy darkness with glowing swords and stabbed at it until it cried soft and then heavy tears. Wars were cast out by the brilliant, who imprisoned the wicked. Warriors that had the best strategies, mastered many skills, and knew how to love were created by their Gods to protect them from any harm. Because of their service, their Gods listened to their stories and preach that their adventures were legendary. The Gods established them as the most beloved of their time until it came to an end.

When the pace of the stream was no longer mellifluous and rather raged into a vast sea, Imagination was lost. The keeper of Imagination would swim into the crushing waves to capture the hand of their warrior. But although their hand locked, the current of the sea ripped them apart, sending the keeper into a lonesome area, casting them upon a rocky shore that led into a foggy forest. The keeper peered over their shoulder in hope to view their warrior, but they had traveled further away from their God. Never to see them again.

In the vast sea with altering pigments from black to dazzling blue, Imagination had been left to float endlessly, only to collide into the warrior. Within the sea, they held onto each other without a master to guide them in their own world. Inside the mind of the warrior, they gathered that their God had been dumped into reality. What they were taught by their God was that reality was a regretful thing and only necessary to enter when life was at a traumatizing point.

Imagination began to cry for its keeper, but the warrior kept a distant stare upon the direction they could sense their God. It was too late, though. They were out of reach.

“Imagination,” the warrior said, “take me back in. There is no more reason for me to exist.” Imagination hesitated and gawked at the strict expression upon the warrior’s face. “Do it! There is no more reason.”

“I can’t…” Imagination whimpered.

“Do it! It’s time for us to die. We will be reborn again, though. I promise.”

So, Imagination opened its heart and entered the warrior. Inside the warrior was dissolved, and Imagination was left alone to die.