Fly me to the Moon
I can feel myself being dragged down. Not by gravity, but by magic; a dark, cloying magic that chokes the life out of me and pulls me toward the earth. Each passing hour brings me further away from my partner, Sun, with whom I created the beautiful land below me. Soon, I will be no more. Soon they will be no more, and there will be nothing left of the world below but a desolate wasteland.
Will Sun be able to restore life after my passing? I can only hope. Sun always was stronger. My people lay deep beneath the earth, ghosts and spirits all that is left of them. Even as Sun's children thrive, scurrying about the surface of this land we made for them. They have even given it a name; Termina, they call it. It seems ironic now, a humourless joke in light of its imminent termination.
Everything is my fault. I wanted to show Sun that I could make children as strong and vibrant as hers. Her children were made of sunshine and wind and hearty soil. But my light was not strong enough to create life. So my children were formed of moonlight and magical darkness, poured over the barren rocky outcroppings of the canyons to the East. From the cliff and rock emerged a powerful people who created a great empire for themselves.
My children were possessed of a great curiosity, passion and mysticism. But they were also ambitious and, like me, their ambition would be their downfall. The royals of Ikana, as they called their home, brought about a bloody era of war and famine. And when all else failed, they learned to harness the darkness that helped shape them; to siphon my own power and perform great rituals to bring about the downfall of their enemies.
Too late did they realize their dark ambitions had corrupted the ritual mask used as the focus for their magics. With each passing generation, the mask absorbed more magic, more darkness, and more bloodlust. In the end, when they had nothing left, they put the last of their power toward sealing the darkness away. But they themselves had become corrupt, and were not long for this world. Using the last of my power, I was able to save only the children. I brought them to live with me, transcending time and space to exist far from the evils created by their ancestors.
But my Lunar Children are no longer safe, not even from me. Centuries had passed with no trace of the evil mask's magic… but as fate would have it, the power merely lay dormant and forgotten. Years of peace served as time for the mask to gather it's power and choose a new vessel for its evil, with nothing to stop it. How could I have been so blind? My ever watchful gaze was always on the land, and yet I did not truly see until it was too late. Perhaps if there were time to gather the giants – our first children, created of moon and sun – things would be different. But there is no time. The evil mask has corrupted even them.
And so I find myself falling.
From the sky.
From grace.
This is the end.
…Terminated.