Origins, Closed City
The mortals had kept their promise.
The lands flourished.
The humans had built glorious sights and homes for themselves, and the woman was a pioneer for their stability. Even though they were forever grateful for Dormin, they still feared Their words. That woman was now an aged elder, and soon her next generation will become humanity's envoy. A young man, with big ambitions.
It concerned Them.
A shrine was built for Dormin. The flower had withered away but only to sprout a garden of more, being relocated to the top of the tower where the sun shines brightest. Those flowers became engrained into the humans' culture, a symbol of their saviour along with a sigil conjured by the god. Idols lined the walls of the first floor, a chamber with a spiraling staircase in the room ahead, leading outward to a gate, beyond the lands; a bridge that stretched for miles, and another gate that welcomed the world beyond.
Dormin's corporeal form stayed within the shrine, but They were watching everywhere. When a death ocurred, they brought the body to the shrine and lay it atop a pedestal, adorning them with flowers. Shadowy figures would rise near the pedestal but the humans did not fear them- They were Dormin's consorts. They would lead the soul from a mortal's deceased body away, to a place unbeknownst to the humans.
When it came time for the envoy's passing, all came to watch. They flooded her pedestal with flowers, showered her with the most valuable cloths and her son clutched her tightly, silently. His tears fell and slid through the aged wrinkles in her face, but she only smiled, slowly turning her gaze to him. Her eyes were grey and unseeing. She did not have much time left, she said, but she was not sad nor afraid. She believed in him, to be humanity's next envoy, and those words weighed his heart heavily.
Dormin watched carefully from the recesses of the shrine.
Her time was coming nearer, and the man only clutched tighter. As the shadowy figures finally appeared, the man refused to let go. He held her until her last breath. The shadows came closer as her eyes shut. His grip loosened as they touched her arm, and touched his. His mother grew cold, and the shadow's touch grew warm. He looked at the shadow, its shape so odd and faceless. But he could feel it staring. He let go of his mother, and took with him the people as he left. He could not bear to watch any longer, no matter how many times he has seen others go through it, it was just not right to him.
The shadowy figure lingered however. It watched as the humans disappeared off into the horizon. Then it turned, retreating into the shrine.
It would be days before the man returned to bury his mother's body.
It would be weeks until another human returned to the shrine.