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Chapter I Cyclical "There are two sides to every coin. Love and hate. Life and death. They are all the same." - Lynx (Chrono Cross) The race of humanity is like a wave in the tempestuous seas of the ocean, ever churning, ever changing. The wave eventually breaks, yet another rises up behind it, eager to fulfill its duty. Each breaking of the vehement swells is like a civilization doomed from conception. After it's cycle has run its course; peace, insurgence, war, chaos, anarchy, and eventually downfall. The sequence begins anew with another wave in its stead. History is doomed from outset to reiterate, no matter what the circumstance. Human will always be petty and lustful. They will always endeavor towards power and fortune, leaving cheer and idiosyncrasy in its wake. The cycle always repeats, no matter what the era or condition. Times will rise and times will fall; yet one thing will always remain. Monotony. Things will never change…things can never change. The rotation cannot be broken; not by will of heart nor perseverance. Humanity is damned perpetually. Death shall lead to rebirth, yet ultimately death would augment once more. Yet, what if someone questioned the cycle? It would be as if a worker ant denied his station and refused to work. The line would be halted and chaos would ensue. But, would the chaos ultimately be detrimental? Would the world be better off by the curiosity of one simple group of mortals decided that tedium was wearisome? Can the cycle be broken after all? It was acknowledged that the evil named Sin had been subjugated. Yu Yevon followed briskly in the mammoth's wake; freeing a world with their exodus. Thus, naturally, it was assumed the cycle had abated and was broken ad infinitum. Peace ensued closely behind followed by a period of amity. Neighbor aided neighbor in the momentous struggle to rebuild what had been lost, the physical and the emotional. Slowly, Spira ascended from the ashes becoming the nation of their previously didactic dreams. Monumental cities uprooted modest villages. Bevelle and Luca only grew to greater extents nearly doubling their already colossal stature. It was the birth of a new age for Spira, culture and general life taking a complete turn. With the advent of such innovation came exploration. Yevon had denied such a privilege in its zenith, confining its peoples to its known and established globe. Unknown land was found quickly and settled upon even more rapidly. The unknown land was dubbed Cortarth after it's discoverer, Joachim Cortarth. The wave had broken and peace was slowly beginning to ebb apprehensively, as another superior wave rose portentously behind it. With the impending wave on the horizon, unrest boils like a livid stew, and the cycle continued. The cycle always continues; it's perpetual existence rotating like a wheel, a tornado, a spiral. The spiral of bereavement and birth, of love and hate, of sanity and insanity. The spiral of continuance.
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