Fury

Why is a marvelous word, Seeker. Why do things happen this way? Why are there horrors and monstrosities? Why is your species so... tempted by anger? In fact, that is an excellent question, Seeker, why do frail creatures like you become the most aggravated and irrational of beings at times?

Why do they think they are king of all they see, free to command all within their domain? Do they not think that they are the only ones who can unleash fury?

You may be getting tired of my tales, Seeker. You may nod them off as stories, something old men tell by the fireside to entertain the imagination of young children.

Yes, I need not even dictate to you this story, for the vestigial effects of the events that happened are apparent even now.

It was the spawning of fury, of hate; of every odd little feeling of malevolence toward another being. It was the incident that first shone imperfection into existence, and continues to taint reality with every passing moment.

It was the first murder.

Nay Seeker, forget your fairytale of Abel and Cain that your species tend to revere, for you are sadly mistaken to believe that that was the first crime ever committed.

It happened long ago, long before you, long before Them, before the Objects; it was a time when reality was good, blessings were plentiful, there was no reason to be fearful of the dark, and altruism was second nature to everyone.

This was truly the Golden Age, a moniker your species tends to place on every above-average timespan.

So why did it come to an end? Why are we living like this now?

The answer, young Seeker, is simple: because there are sorrowful souls out there who are never content with what they have.

There was a creature, Ol'feyhat was his name; he was a humble being, always giving to those in need, never hoarding everything for himself, a disgusting effigy of the apex of what your race calls the perfect human.

But I do admire him for one thing: he was content with what he had, and never asked for more than he needed.

As the Golden Age reached its end, there were whispers and shadows growing. Hearts were teetering over the edge of corruption. What was once satisfactory a while ago is now no longer sufficient.

I do not know what caused him to do it. I honestly have no idea.

He was the wealthiest and most powerful person in all of existence, but when he saw the look of contentment on that man's face, it just ate away at him, for it was something he did not have, nor could he ever receive.

There were no weapons, you see, the very concept of murder had not been invented yet. Yet, the man had a slab of obsidian, a prized jewel of his collection. He crafted it, fashioned it into a larger and more shallower form, guided by his heart's most evil desires, he turned what was once a gem into a desecrated staff, and from that, he fashioned a dagger. The dagger was as dark as the blackest night, and pure hatred emanated from its hilt.

The wealthy man was overtaken by darkness and corruption.

I was there. I saw it with my own eyes.

I saw as he plunged the dagger deep into Ol'feyhat. I saw the blood everywhere, I bore witness to the first crime ever committed.

And my eyes grew wide with shock and astonishment as I realized what my crime signified.

I threw the dagger away, banished it from memory and place, I washed myself clean of the blood and guilt, and yet, the damage had been done.

The Golden Age ended, and no living creature will ever experience another peaceful era again.

I still weep with the thought of the potential future the Universe would have had if I had not been so foolish.

So, Seeker, I pray that you, nay, I pray that no one ever comes across The Dagger of Darkness. You may laugh at the name, but there is a reason why every creature has an innate fear of the dark.

Know this, Seeker, every action you do has consequences, some foreseeable, some, unknowable. Deliberate, and be hesitant before you act, for you cannot know everything.

Have I ever told you how fascinated I am with the word "why"? It is a question that I ask myself continuously, yet I can never reach a conclusive answer.

And to this day, Seeker, I am still paying penance for my sin.