The Last Terraphim *Prologue*

Prologue

The prophets were like many who came before them in almost all regards, excepting two.
The first of which being that they were three male humans and three female, as there were also three male elves and three female, holding almost exclusively to each others company for a majority of their pilgrimage. People say “majority” only for the reason that it was never made clear whether the journey was successful, or even if it ever ended. Unlike prophets from days long past, they never left the company of each other, and there was no discernible leader. When addressing the public, the best suited was selected amongst them to represent their divine task. They behaved as people who would never forsake themselves or each other, the gravity of their sacred mission important enough to warrant such a disciplined approach. As the bards later told, they were to go to the place where their god was born, and bring about its eventual return to the people. After years of preaching to the known cities and villages, they turned East toward the rising morning sun, and faded from view and the books of history in the world of humans and elves.
The second exception was that unlike prophets that came before and followed after, their story involved neither salvation nor doom, simply to bring about what was to come. It was not a future held to either side of a coin, it was not a dualistic one, and there was no morality. It was a world beyond such ideas, which had come into its own. It was a newborn child, with limitless potential, because it could not fathom limitations. This was what the prophets sought, either to find, or to create if it was the will of their deity.
Presuming their deity was using them as its instruments.

Aeons later, the human and elven worlds were drifting apart, and apathy was widespread. The pixies had already hidden themselves away, the affairs of the world no longer as entertaining. Long gone were the days where an aptly placed sunset would take the breath away from a village. Warlords and persecution and domination replaced teamwork and tranquility. The birth of agriculture brought the have and have-nots, and both elf and human blamed each other for the lack of happiness they now experienced.
Seeing that this would lead to war if something was not done soon, both species went their separate ways in the world, and it stayed that way for several aeons. Over that time, stories still existed of the other cultures, but they were nothing more than stories for long enough that that is all they became.

Over time, both cultures had advanced technologically, and mutual recognition of the Others existence was inevitable. While both side struggled to retain a sense of control over their populace, it was apparent that the damage was done. Whatever happened now was beyond their control, and it was even speculated on both sides that it was not their position to meddle in the plans of the natural order.

The Last Terraphim begins...

Anyone who knows me personally, knows that I have been working on a story. It's no story of heroes in the conventional sence, because we do not live in a conventional world, no matter how we delude ourselves.
It's a tale of a girl, coming to grips with situations beyond her control, as well as how she is connected to them no matter how much she resists. I began this story nearly 8 years ago, and through fragmented files, upgraded OS, and botched external hard drive transfers, I have lost every attempt I made to tell this story. Yet it still exists inside my mind, completed and perfect. Having the time to dish it out, however, is difficult.
I began to realize that I was updating almost all of my online information like a bad habit, rather than putting forth the effort in a constructive manner, toward something I cared about. This is difficult when you care about everything and everyone, rarely making time for oneself.
So this will be a blog for the exclusive purpose of sharing my art and writing with the entirety of the world. I will predominantly focus on my story and other writing projects. This is more an attempt to share my work with everyone, as I know nothing of publishing. I can barely fathom the idea of charging someone for a quick look at a piece of my soul. Can a price really be placed on that? And if it can, does it do justice?
Sci-fi, fantasy, and drama. This is what drives me. To continue to ask the question "what if?" is what keeps me going each day. I feel the answer to every question should be another question. The answer is unimportant, it's the journey that makes it worthwhile.