"Woah," Langa breathed, "What is it?"
"It's just a bird," Miya complained, rolling his eyes.
Langa had bent his knees to lean down and get closer. There was this tiny little creature perched on Miya's finger. It was so… small, but plump. It had cute little eyes, and fluffy leaves all over its body. "Its leaves are so beautiful," Langa whispered in awe, gently stroking the bird's neck with a finger.
"They're not leaves, they're feathers," Miya said in a condescending tone.
"What are these creatures? Are the birds like us? What element do they control?" Langa asked, not deterred in the least by Miya's biting words.
"Langa. You're an idiot," the younger Spirit deadpanned. He lifted his arm up, and Langa watched in disappointment as the bird flew away.
The Water Spirit pouted, "Oh no, it left."
"Birds are everywhere, you're not missing out on anything," Miya snorted, continuing through the trees and resuming Langa's tour.
"But that's the first one I've ever seen, I wanted to be its friend," Langa sighed.
Miya barked a laugh, "Befriending a bird would be a little difficult, dumb ass."
"Why's that?"
"Birds can't talk, they're animals."
"What's an animal?"
"A lower being."
"Like a plant?"
"Yes… but no." Miya glanced over at Langa, taking a deep breath as he prepared to rant his rant. "The defining aspect of this new Age is a new type of lower being. There are still Spirits, plants, and non sentients like rocks and water, but now there are mortals."
"Mortals?"
"Yes. We Spirits are considered immortal, we live forever. Mortals have a set life span. Humans and animals are mortals. They have no connection to nature, they live off nature. The earth supports their life, and it is the Spirits' job to make sure the earth stays at balance. So, the Spirits are the same as always. It's just that now we share the world with weaker beings that we have to protect."
"What is your faction, Miya?" Langa asked, fascinated. It seemed that the Spirits had continued on into this new Age… he wondered if any of his friends still walked the earth. It wasn't an unreasonable possibility. Living to a new Age was nothing for a Spirit, the earth was still the earth.
"We don't… have factions anymore," Miya said slowly, his eyebrows drawing together. "A lot happened while you were gone, but let's just say that there is only one Spirit per element and we leave it at that."
Langa's eyes blew wide. What? If that was the case, then thousands of Spirits no longer walked the earth. Where had they all gone? Were any of them still around in the first place? He opened his mouth to start an interrogation, but Miya hushed him with a finger held in the air.
"Nope. I'm not explaining all that to you, it'll take forever and I don't know the full story anyways."
Langa deflated. All of a sudden, his fascination with this new world had been overlaid with an anxiety over what had once been. He felt a little guilty for having slept through the war… What had happened to bring about this new Age?
"I don't know much about the Age before this one. I was born to the new Age, a new Spirit for a new world," Miya went on.
"What was the Age of Chaos you were talking about earlier?" Langa asked. "When I lived, the time before was known as the Age of Solitude. When the Spirits came to be, the Age of Serenity began."
"The Age of Serenity ended when the Great War began. It lasted for thousands of years, and was known as the Age of Chaos. All I know is that the entire world was destroyed, and when nature rebalanced itself this Age was created. The Age of After."
"I slept through an entire Age of existence," Langa murmured.
"Yeah," Miya chuckled, "See why I was so shocked when I figured out what had happened to you? You're old as dirt."
"Old? You use this word but I don't understand what it means," Langa mused.
Miya sighed in annoyance, kicking at the grass as he walked. "It's a mortal term. Spirits don't get old or feel the passage of time, but mortals certainly do. Unlike us, they expire with age. The more years a human lives, the more deteriorated their body becomes. 'Old' is a word used to describe someone who has been alive long enough for death to be seen in their future."
"Death is when a plant is burned or a river dries up," Langa said, confused. "How can that happen to a human?" He pictured Reki in his mind, with wild red hair and eyes that flashed like amber. He didn't understand. How could someone like that turn gray and crumble to dust?
"Death is the opposite of life," Miya drawled. "It's simple, really. All mortals will die. They'll cease to exist. The birds, the humans, all of them. Like I already told you, they only have a set amount of time on this earth. It's why us Spirits have to work hard and make sure they have a life worth living. What's the point of walking this earth if it's not a good place?"
"Oh…" Langa was starting to understand; understand these new beings, that was. It only made sense that a new Age would come with a new expression of life. He turned his eyes up to the trees. The soft pink of the leaves sparkled in the light of the sun. Their shadows dappled the ground, and the air above looked pink for all the light bouncing off their surfaces. That made sense… this world was so much more beautiful than the one before, all to be sure those who didn't have unlimited time could make the most of the time they did have.
This world seemed to have… so much more meaning than Langa's did.
During the Age of Serenity, life simply implied existence. It was guaranteed for everyone and everything. The Spirits decorated the earth with plants and feats of nature, but all life ended up being was the general acceptance they experienced the earth instead of being a part of it.
But here, in this world walked by mortals and immortals alike, life had become something different. It seemed to Langa, that life was more valuable if there was only so much time remaining until there was no more to be experienced. Just how long did humans have to live, Langa wondered? What did it mean, to have death hovering on the edge of your every horizon? Is that why Reki had been so scared of Miya? Because he'd been unwilling to relinquish his life?
"I went off on a tangent," Miya sighed, slipping his arms behind his head as he walked. "As I was saying, this world is no different from yours, it just has animals and humans thrown into the mix. As such, I am an Animal Spirit."
Langa met Miya's gaze, his eyes sparkling. "Animal Spirit? Does that mean you make the birds?"
Miya snorted, "Not exactly. Animals and humans reproduce all on their own. They don't have a set life, so their births aren't under the jurisdiction of the Spirits. That wouldn't be fair. My job is to make sure the animals are respected by the humans, and to safeguard the young ones. I direct the fish upstream when the seasons change, and I lay the bears to sleep in the winter. I make sure that the different species stay in their homes, and I color the feathers of the birds and change the patterns of the animals' fur as they grow older. It's my job to keep the ecosystem diverse, colorful, and at peace. The mortal part of it anyway."
"Miya, your power is so incredible!" Langa praised.
"Yeah, I am pretty great!"
"But, what's a bear? And a fish?"
"I had a feeling that was coming… Come on Langa, I have a lot of things to show you."
Miya showed Langa the new world. He led him across each continent, and showed him how the lands had changed since his Age. Langa saw oceans, and rivers, and mountains, and deserts, and fields of golden grass.
It was all the same, endless blue skies and a world that seemed to be set into sparkling crystal. Everything was so incredibly beautiful, it was as if every single leaf had been placed with such meticulous care. At night the stars shimmered overhead, and the dazzling shimmer of faraway galaxies illuminated this picturesque world in a light of silvery glory.
And then there were the animals.
So many of them, so many different creatures. Miya had shown Langa the bears and the fish, but then he's shown him tigers and lions and turtles and buffalo. Each of them with unique fur patterns of tints to their scales, and all of that diversity was up to Miya.
Miya's work was incredible, and Langa's heart had buzzed with joy each time he'd been able to witness the younger Spirit help a calf to its feet or give a young bird its song.
One day, while coloring the scales of the fish in a gentle little creek, Langa had been able to show Miya his power.
"What do you do, anyway?" the shorter Spirit had asked. He was knelt in the ankle deep water, his shoes and socks left on the banks of the river. The young fish swam about him in circles, happily brushing against his toes and wriggling with pleasure when he brushed his fingers across their fins. With each ghost of his touch, Miya turned dull gray scales to those of iridescent green, orange, and rusted brown.
Langa had been sitting on the branch of a nearby tree. It was a lopsided thing, its trunk extending across the river. This tree didn't have a silvery trunk, but one clear white and speckled with black. It was beautiful, with thousands of little green leaves that occasionally dropped off to skim across the surface of the creek.
The Water Spirit had blinked in surprise at Miya's question. He was drawn aback to be asked of his ability. Couldn't' Miya tell from his blue hair, eyes, and robes? But also… the promise of getting to demonstrate his power for the first time in an eternity sent his chest buzzing with excitement.
"Oh, I'll show you," Langa said. He hopped down from the tree branch, touching down into the creek and spraying Miya with droplets. The green eyed Spirit hissed, shooting Langa a steely glare for his trouble. The Water Spirit laughed, Miya was quite a grumpy little thing.
Langa sighed in contentment as he stood in the creek. He was always barefoot, and didn't mind that the hem of his robes were getting soaked through. He liked to be wet. He'd just been so used to not ever touching the water that he hadn't even considered stepping in until Miya had brought up the subject.
He wondered if the current Water Spirit would sense his power and come to berate him for fooling with their work on the creek? No matter, Langa was far too excited to be back in his craft to worry over such things.
With a growing smile, the blue haired Spirit held his hand up in front of him. He nudged at the creek with his mind, and the water bent to his command, creating a sparkling arch that reached all the way to his hand. The water felt so… clean. It felt completely undisturbed, whoever the current Spirit was was incredibly skilled.
Miya gawked at his friend, his jaw dropping and eyes widening in horror. Langa cocked his head to one side, confused. What was with that reaction?
"You're a Water Spirit?!" Miya squeaked, his voice a whole lot higher than Langa had heard it go.
"Yes…?"
Miya stood up, leaving the fish to their own devices and turning his full attention to Langa. He was staring at the older Spirit's water creation in a combination of awe and disbelief. "That's… there hasn't been a Water Spirit since the Age of Chaos."
Langa blinked, releasing his hold on the water. "What do you mean? Is there not a Spirit for each element in this world?"
"Well… yeah," Miya stuttered. "This Age just… doesn't have one. For water, I mean."
Langa frowned, feeling like there was something Miya wasn't telling him. How could there not be a Water Spirit? Langa didn't know how this Age had ended up with only one Spirit per element, but it was even more strange that there was no Spirit for water.
"What about the rain? And snow?" Langa asked, feeling distraught.
Miya blinked, confused, "I don't know what that means."
Langa felt like a bucket of ice had been poured over his head. This world had no rain or snow? They had wind, but there was no weather. Without snow, was winter simply a drop in temperature? How many humans had lived out their lives without being able to see an ice sickle or the sunlight reflecting off the snow in the morning? If there was no Water Spirit, who dampened the soil so the grass could grow in the heat of the summer? Who placed the dew on the grass in the early morning and rose fog between the trees in the spring?
Now that he thought about it… it was a little strange that there were no clouds in the sky. It was because… there was no Water Spirit. It seemed, that Langa was the only one.
