The skies blackened, and at last, we knew. The age of the sun was no-more. For at last she had fallen into her final rest, to hide behind the grey, to move into the realm eternal. No longer where we, her children, the ones who took her for granted, bathing in her greatness, yet showing no gratitude to the grace she rained down upon us. And as we took no notice of her glory, in its absence, we felt sorrow.
For until this day, we had never known what it was like to be without. Without her grace, without her warmth, we were lost. For each day prior, she had stood by us, raining her warmth down us. But now, we were without.
Some couldn’t handle life without her. They were left behind. We had no time for the weak, no time for ones who couldn’t handle the change. Of course, all of us were affected. But those of us who kept it on the inside, only crying out for the grace at night, for the warmth, raining down on us, something other than this grey, this endless purgatory we had been condemned to. A world of the strength of character, strength of ones will, and the strength to survive in such a new world.
So I myself was a poor soul, thrown into this new world, tossed into a place less forgiving. My role, to observe, to write, to record, so the future could remember this time. A land without life, a land without glory. This is the story of how we survived the dark times, how we lived without her glory.
May the song of this tale guide me, and tell it true. May the spirit of the times be transcribed. May I be granted with the gift to transcribe these events accurately, and may you be gifted with the wisdom to understand it. And may the future generations take this warning with credence, and understand it. For all can be given with grace, and within grace, true understanding can be granted.
To tell this tale in truth, we must return to the time when the sun died. We must travel to when the grey first rolled over our world.
We were a happy people in her grace, we moved around in the light, her rays shining down on us. In her light we bathed, and in her rays we were happy. By no means am I claiming that this was a perfect time. Like any age, the age of her grace had its problems. But in general, we were a happy people, her rays bringing a special light into our lives.
We were also a blind people. We sat in her grace, the world bright and green about us, and we took it for granted. We walked with the assumption that she would always be there for us. That she would take care of us, watch over us. Of course, as you all know, that was quickly proven wrong.