There is only one small town in all Orpheya that is as ordinary as it is modest, and that is Drumdale. The fields are still and quiet. The windmills blow in the gentle breeze and the workday is keeping all the village hands busy. A horse whinnies in the distance and dust billows off a plow in the distance leaving the particals to swirl into the open air.
Who are you?
A Farmer
A Spirit
Your work is hard and your days are long. As you come to the end of a long row of cabbages, you straiten up your stiff back and wipe the sweat from your brow. It is a hot day, but your work is now finished. On the horizon you see the long shadows of the standing stones just past the edge of your fields. Behind you lies your home, and your belly rumbles at the thought of dinner.
Go home Walk to the stonesFor an instant, you feel like you remember something. What it was like to have a body, a form. But just as fast the feeling fades, and you feel empty once again. You never come out during the day, the sunlight strains your eyes and exhausts you, but today you feel different. The world has changed.
Wander the Village Visit the stones
You wander towards the stones. You can feel their power growing, their roots jutting deeper into the earth than you’d expect. You examine each one carefully but they appear ordinary in all aspects except one. Each of them is making soft and gentle sounds. One of the stones sounds like the ambient noise of wind and waves while another is saying words over and over in a cacophony of hushed whispers all spoken in different voices. You press your ear to each stone, listening, hoping to find something familiar in the noise.
“You can hear it too, huh?” you hear a voice from behind you. An old man is walking up the path towards the stone circle. You've never been seen before, certainly not in the light of day. Your instinct is to reply but you've forgotten why and how. You touch where your throat should be longingly. The old man stops at the edge of the circle and leans slightly on his wooden staff. “You still have something to do, I think” he chuckles despite his obvious sadness. “Don’t worry, I will help you find it.” He holds out his hand to you.
You take his hand and you feel something that reminds you of home. You are gripped by him, and you feel your spirit being blown out like a candle. Suddenly, It was like you never existed.
Start AgainThe village is small and the people are all busy working. Your presence goes unnoticed by them. You study each of their faces, trying to remember something, anything. But you just feel lost. Towards the edge of the village, you pass a farmer in their field and take solace in a dim and modest shack. The musty air moves thick through you and you watch it turn in the air as you regain some strength. You notice an old woman asleep by the window and you move closer. She is beautiful and peaceful. You listen to her breathing, watching her chest rise and fall when you feel a spark of remembrance. Her necklace shines in the sunlight, a token of life, and it fills you with memory. You touch her hand and you remember even more.
“Mama?” the old woman mumbles. Her voice is old and frail. She lifts her heavy head turning toward you. You see in her eyes she is trying to remember too. You refuse to let go of her hand, the memories finally return to you in a flash of color, the fullness of your life spark, memories of childhood, memories of love, and family. They are shared between your souls.
“I missed you, mama,” the old woman says. She reaches for her necklace, the one that was once yours. You reach out too and feel the smooth surface of the token.
You feel a sense of fulfillment. The light that consumes you is gentle and you know it's going to be okay.
Start AgainYou take out your handkerchief and dab it under your wide hat, then turn towards your humble home. The door creaks as you step inside. When you close the door, dust jumps off and settles in the air. The sunlight beams through the cracks in the wood making your home feel smaller. Your elderly mother rests in a chair by the window. She is sound asleep so she does not hear you enter, and you take a moment to remember what that aged face looked like when you were young. You hang up your hat and give her a small kiss on the top of her head. She does not stir but you feel she senses you in her own way. A small token she wears around her neck glistens in the sunlight, it reminds you of the mother you knew when you were small. You wish that she would remember you again one day. You decide to start dinner.
You take care of your mother for many more years and you are grateful for each one. Eventually, you too grow old and the farm returns to dust.
Start AgainYou take out your handkerchief and dab it under your wide hat, then turn towards your humble home. The door creaks as you step inside. When you close the door, dust jumps off and settles in the air. The sunlight beams through the cracks in the wood making your home feel smaller. Your elderly mother rests in a chair by the window. She turns a heavy head when she sees you. Her alert face makes you smile. You waste no time walking over to her and kissing the top of her head in greeting. You begin to move away when she touches your hand. You crouch down beside her. “Mama” she mumbles as she looks towards you. It's been a long time since you last herd her speak and the sound of her voice makes you feel the weight of time. You chuckle, “Yes, you are my mama.” Your mother seems less foggy today, but still tired. She reaches up to her necklace and fumbles with the token before it detaches. Her gentle wrinkled hands twirl the simple gold token in the air, letting it catch the sunlight, and she places it in your hand. It feels strange to the touch. You are gripped with a sense of power, but it is gentle.
You take care of your mother for many more years and you are grateful for each one. Eventually, you too grow old and the farm returns to dust .
You hold on to the token your whole life and at the end, you get the feeling that you will keep it long past your death.
The standing stones have been there your whole life. When you were young, your mother always warned you to not go near them. But today something is different. Another shadow stands there in the middle. An old man looking at the stones. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you decide to walk over.
As you get close you realize you don’t recognize him from your village. But there’s something about him that seems familiar anyway. He is standing in the middle of the stones, staring at them. When your foot enters the circle he turns.
“Ah it’s you,” he says in a familiar tone, though you still do not recognize him. His voice feels ancient and resonates deep in his chest. “Do you know what these stones are?” you look around at them, they seem bigger somehow, up close. “They are almost as old as I,” the man says. You begin to wonder just how old this man is, as it was said these stones are as old as the land itself. But you don't get time to ask before the old man begins to speak with his eyes closed:
“Stone of spirits,
Stone of calamities,
Stone of life,
Stone of humanity.
A piece of power to
complete each one,
only then is this
story all done.”
You feel something stir within you as the man says the words and for a split second, everything hurts. Your body falls to the ground without you. The old man seems sadly disappointed and continues his vigil beneath the stones.
Start Again
