(All characters you know and love belong to Squaresoft. The rest are mine.
No one sue.)
Shumi Village.
"Seer is wrong. There is light but no tunnel. The light is very beautiful, and there among all those you love resides Hyne, the doer and dreamer of all things." Retorted Keeper.
"So much is not known, how can you be so sure Keeper?" argued Seer. "What does Artisan think?" Seer asked, as the third Shumi strolled around the biodome.
Artisan sighed. Such was life here in Shumi village. When it was your turn to come up and man the ultima draw point, you had to listen to Seer's and Keeper's rhetoric about life, death, and afterlife. Those two always lobbied for the job because of the amount of time to talk it allowed. They always spent the entire day in the thrall of debate. It wasn't that bad really. Just rather annoying. Artisan had made a hobby of finding new ways of avoiding his turn. It'd gotten to the point that, one time; he'd tried to feign evolutionary pains. Obviously that trick only worked once. This time Elder and Assistant had seen him carrying a load of stones to his home and he couldn't come up with an excuse fast enough. So here he was hoping beyond hope that Seer and Keeper would ignore his presence. They didn't.
"Artisan thinks he needs a new project." He announced as he grabbed a stone in his elongated fingers. He took a polishing cloth from his pocket and slowly started work at making this rock shine.
"Seer thinks Artisan needs to share more with others." Seer explained as he walked over to Artisan and sat beside him. "Does Artisan not like us enough to join a debate?"
Artisan sighed again and set his rock down. Looks like he wasn't getting out of this anytime soon.
"Artisan thinks that to discuss the beginning and ending of something so much is to down play the most important part of the thing, the middle." He explained, proceeding to shine his rock again.
Both Seer and Keeper looked pensively at each other.
"So what does Artisan mean?" Seer asked. Keeper nodded as if asking the same question quietly. Artisan sighed again.
Outside the biodome a shrill wind blew across the shimmering white landscape of Winter Island. Moving through the fog of snow was a heavily cloaked figure, pressing toward the biodome at a very slow and methodical pace.
"Artisan is just making a point."
The figure, carrying only a small steel briefcase, stopped just outside the biodome's doors and looked up into the sky. The sun was barely visible through the blowing snow, but it was directly overhead.
"Why should Artisan concern himself with what lies beyond? No one, not even Elder knows when Artisan's end is to come, and there is no way for anyone to know."
Placing the briefcase down, the figure proceeded to take off one of its gloves. Beside the case's handle there was a series of three red buttons. The figure hit each in sequence from right to left, and then grabbed the handle once again.
"Artisan thinks time, of all commodities in this existence, time is something to be treasured and used to the utmost benefit."
It was a common practice for Shumis, while on draw point duty, not to pester travelers visiting their home village, so Keeper, and Seer paid the figure no mind as it headed straight toward the elevator shaft that led to the village below. Artisan, however, stole a glance at the object this traveler was carrying. He'd seen only a few "cases" in his travels so one like this, with shiny red dots on the top, caught his interest and derailed his thinking for a moment.
"Go on." Seer prompted impatiently.
"Time is not ever lasting. We will, no matter what, all see the end whether we want to or not. What makes the difference is how the time we are given is used. The pursuit of happiness, of knowledge, and of peace of mind, these are the things we should endeavor to 'spend' our time on."
323 meters below the surface, the elevator doors opened causing a pressure changing hiss and a brisk frosty breeze to sweep across the stairs leading down into the village. The figure moved out onto the steps and was greeted by Sculptor, who just happened to be heading up to see Artisan. With a boney hand, the figure shoved a note scrawled on a small piece of paper, into Sculptor's face. Luckily, Sculptor could read common tongue. He nodded to the figure and led him down the stairs and further into the village.
"A discussion concerning what and how our end will be like is pointless. It's something that will come through time and really has no bearing on how life plays out, that is unless too much effort is focused on it. The discussion alone cannot change anything in our life, so why not put more energy forth into more satisfying pursuits? After all, for each and every one of us death will come."
As Sculptor and the figure entered the drawing room, Elder and Assistant both greeted the stranger. With no expression, no words, nor even a breath the figure lifted up the briefcase by its handle. When the stranger's arm was fully extended in front of it, the case top flopped open revealing a crystal firmly stuck inside. Attached to the crystal was a small led readout. Numbers appearing then disappearing:
"5.4.3.2.1.0"
From as far away as Dollet the mushrooming purple cloud could be seen. It engulfed Winter Island and just up to Tabika Snowlands in mere seconds, and just as quick it dissipated.
Seer, Keeper, and Artisan's bodies lay contorted on the floor of the biodome. Blood streamed from their ears, eyes and barely moving mouths. The elevator bell rang signifying it had returned from the village. The doors opened and the figure stepped out.
He unwrapped himself from his cloak and flung it over is arm. Underneath he had a side pack slung over one shoulder; from it he pulled a radio, turned it on and spoke into it.
"The results are promising. Further testing maybe required but these findings are more than satisfactory."
The radio crackled and sputtered but eventually a voice spoke back.
"Excellent. You may return when you've been sufficiently decontaminated."
The very tall, very frail and very old looking man glanced down at Artisan's body as he passed by, shutting off the radio.
The last thing Artisan saw before his breath left him was a silhouette walking through the biodome's doors. He thought it resembled a scarecrow, something he really wanted to draw, unfortunately his arms wouldn't move just now. Maybe he would just rest first.
".and in Artisan's opinion, all we can do in the face of death is live."
Shumi Village.
"Seer is wrong. There is light but no tunnel. The light is very beautiful, and there among all those you love resides Hyne, the doer and dreamer of all things." Retorted Keeper.
"So much is not known, how can you be so sure Keeper?" argued Seer. "What does Artisan think?" Seer asked, as the third Shumi strolled around the biodome.
Artisan sighed. Such was life here in Shumi village. When it was your turn to come up and man the ultima draw point, you had to listen to Seer's and Keeper's rhetoric about life, death, and afterlife. Those two always lobbied for the job because of the amount of time to talk it allowed. They always spent the entire day in the thrall of debate. It wasn't that bad really. Just rather annoying. Artisan had made a hobby of finding new ways of avoiding his turn. It'd gotten to the point that, one time; he'd tried to feign evolutionary pains. Obviously that trick only worked once. This time Elder and Assistant had seen him carrying a load of stones to his home and he couldn't come up with an excuse fast enough. So here he was hoping beyond hope that Seer and Keeper would ignore his presence. They didn't.
"Artisan thinks he needs a new project." He announced as he grabbed a stone in his elongated fingers. He took a polishing cloth from his pocket and slowly started work at making this rock shine.
"Seer thinks Artisan needs to share more with others." Seer explained as he walked over to Artisan and sat beside him. "Does Artisan not like us enough to join a debate?"
Artisan sighed again and set his rock down. Looks like he wasn't getting out of this anytime soon.
"Artisan thinks that to discuss the beginning and ending of something so much is to down play the most important part of the thing, the middle." He explained, proceeding to shine his rock again.
Both Seer and Keeper looked pensively at each other.
"So what does Artisan mean?" Seer asked. Keeper nodded as if asking the same question quietly. Artisan sighed again.
Outside the biodome a shrill wind blew across the shimmering white landscape of Winter Island. Moving through the fog of snow was a heavily cloaked figure, pressing toward the biodome at a very slow and methodical pace.
"Artisan is just making a point."
The figure, carrying only a small steel briefcase, stopped just outside the biodome's doors and looked up into the sky. The sun was barely visible through the blowing snow, but it was directly overhead.
"Why should Artisan concern himself with what lies beyond? No one, not even Elder knows when Artisan's end is to come, and there is no way for anyone to know."
Placing the briefcase down, the figure proceeded to take off one of its gloves. Beside the case's handle there was a series of three red buttons. The figure hit each in sequence from right to left, and then grabbed the handle once again.
"Artisan thinks time, of all commodities in this existence, time is something to be treasured and used to the utmost benefit."
It was a common practice for Shumis, while on draw point duty, not to pester travelers visiting their home village, so Keeper, and Seer paid the figure no mind as it headed straight toward the elevator shaft that led to the village below. Artisan, however, stole a glance at the object this traveler was carrying. He'd seen only a few "cases" in his travels so one like this, with shiny red dots on the top, caught his interest and derailed his thinking for a moment.
"Go on." Seer prompted impatiently.
"Time is not ever lasting. We will, no matter what, all see the end whether we want to or not. What makes the difference is how the time we are given is used. The pursuit of happiness, of knowledge, and of peace of mind, these are the things we should endeavor to 'spend' our time on."
323 meters below the surface, the elevator doors opened causing a pressure changing hiss and a brisk frosty breeze to sweep across the stairs leading down into the village. The figure moved out onto the steps and was greeted by Sculptor, who just happened to be heading up to see Artisan. With a boney hand, the figure shoved a note scrawled on a small piece of paper, into Sculptor's face. Luckily, Sculptor could read common tongue. He nodded to the figure and led him down the stairs and further into the village.
"A discussion concerning what and how our end will be like is pointless. It's something that will come through time and really has no bearing on how life plays out, that is unless too much effort is focused on it. The discussion alone cannot change anything in our life, so why not put more energy forth into more satisfying pursuits? After all, for each and every one of us death will come."
As Sculptor and the figure entered the drawing room, Elder and Assistant both greeted the stranger. With no expression, no words, nor even a breath the figure lifted up the briefcase by its handle. When the stranger's arm was fully extended in front of it, the case top flopped open revealing a crystal firmly stuck inside. Attached to the crystal was a small led readout. Numbers appearing then disappearing:
"5.4.3.2.1.0"
From as far away as Dollet the mushrooming purple cloud could be seen. It engulfed Winter Island and just up to Tabika Snowlands in mere seconds, and just as quick it dissipated.
Seer, Keeper, and Artisan's bodies lay contorted on the floor of the biodome. Blood streamed from their ears, eyes and barely moving mouths. The elevator bell rang signifying it had returned from the village. The doors opened and the figure stepped out.
He unwrapped himself from his cloak and flung it over is arm. Underneath he had a side pack slung over one shoulder; from it he pulled a radio, turned it on and spoke into it.
"The results are promising. Further testing maybe required but these findings are more than satisfactory."
The radio crackled and sputtered but eventually a voice spoke back.
"Excellent. You may return when you've been sufficiently decontaminated."
The very tall, very frail and very old looking man glanced down at Artisan's body as he passed by, shutting off the radio.
The last thing Artisan saw before his breath left him was a silhouette walking through the biodome's doors. He thought it resembled a scarecrow, something he really wanted to draw, unfortunately his arms wouldn't move just now. Maybe he would just rest first.
".and in Artisan's opinion, all we can do in the face of death is live."
