In Heartwing, we learned the meaning of all of them. We were born in a world torn by a war that started thousands of years ago. A war caused by one of our own. He did not stop until his dark shadow of destruction engulfed the world. We were born in this world, a world bathed in the blood and despair caused by the Destroyer.
When our eyes opened for the first time, all we saw was each other. We could hear voices whispering to us and we could feel the love and joy they echoed. We could feel life pulsating around us and for a while, this was all we knew. Life. Each other. Love. Peace. Joy.
They tried to protect us. They tried so hard to keep the harsh reality away from us. “Not yet” they would say, “They are still too young to know”. But we did learn, for we could see their tears and sorrow. We could feel the hatred their hearts held and we learned of the memories left behind by those claimed by death.
“There can never be one without the other” our father would say when he taught us about the true meaning of life and death. Both were our charge, our legacy. “Everything on this world has an opposite and no matter how different two things may seem, when you look hard enough, you will see just how alike they are”. Those were words whispered by our mother when we were small enough to be engulfed completely by her and father’s arms. We did not truly understand what she meant back then nor did we know that the wisdom she spoke to us was said to her by one who, just like our grandfather, knew of us long before we came to be.
And when we did, we felt their love and joy, overwhelming us in a way that made our heart brighter and our souls vibrate with hope and happiness. We still see all those faces, in the shy light of a blooming grove. And then, a moment later, they all turn to ash.
The weight of the world is upon our shoulders and our arms bear the scars that remind us of what we lost. We close our eyes and we can still see Heartwing Isle engulfed in his flames… our ears ring with the echoes of the final screams of those who could not be saved that day.
The same echo carries us to the broken memory of the moment we lost our parents and so many of our family to yet another ancient enemy. We see them as their bodies are torn apart and we hear their screams of agony.
We were too weak to save them all. We were too frightened to truly stand up, to truly rise like a phoenix rises from the ashes. But now, we are not. Not anymore. For each scream, for every last drop of blood they spilled, for every single life they took, they will pay thousandfold.
All shaped us the way sand and winds sculpt the rocks of the scorching desert. Like water and ice, we carve a path through earth and stone. Our roots grow deeper each day and we bloom.
Everything in this world has an opposite. And we mirror each other, standing back to back, as we always will, each looking outward from the other to protect the one thing which we have always been. A paragon of life for the righteous, a harbinger of death for the fallen.
And yet, the same ever burning fire scorches our hearts.
The fire of our Legacy.