PROGRESS

Centuries passed and the gates are still passable as it was waiting for the arrivals of plenty more creatures.

I was still staying at the lands occupied by the elves and dwarves, where artisans gathered and the land was fertile. During my stay on that place, I enjoyed listening to timeless tales from them, just like the story of how a spirit defeated the colossal moving monolith.

They are just a little bit like me, for the time slowly passing in front of any of us. For them a century was just like a blink of an eye, for me it's like just a second, but for the dwarves... they only live for a millennium and a half.

I witnessed Gilgnar's efforts into smithing, he created countless treasured weapons, and offered some to me. But he made a priceless creation only for me, a sheath for my staff and said it is made up of the last dying branch of the World Tree from the world they formerly lived. I can say that it was the best give I ever received from the dwarves... I still carry it around nowadays, for it changes the shape of my staff into anything that I wanted.

That time I've been used to coexisting with other beings, but soon it started to get complicated as they started to adore me like I was a supreme being. They painted countless imagery of mine and erected statues of my likeness, whenever I assist them, they treat it as if I did a heroic deed.

"Long live to Ev'raim!" they always shout it when they see me.

I don't even know what I've done to receive such praises, and I don't even know if I really deserve it. Whatever I did, it seems like it became an impassable milestone for them, like I was always setting a new record. From mastering the manipulation of ether and mana, they adore me for possessing telesma (a divine essence that can bend the plausibility of the world), into combat ability when I am sparring with their warriors. Even though all I know is I was just a spectator.

As years pass, I noticed the cracks on the ground of different places, it started to expand little by little. Alva told me that it naturally occurs on every world where they move in, they call it "Great Terraforming".

Then I ignored those earthen rifts because I trust them.

----x-----x

It's been a millenia and Gilgnar was nearing the door of death, he was cosidered 'old' by the standards of the dwarves, but his will to become the greatest blacksmith was still burning.

" Ev'raim, I promise you that I will forge the sharpest blade that can wound you!" he was filled with joy upon declaring the challenge to himself.

Come to think of it, the weapons hailed as treasures in their tribe can't even pierce me, nor leave a scratch. But seeing his motivation alone, it also itches me to support him and root for him... for I also wanted to experience the pain that they are talking about. Sometimes I wanted to die if it is possible.

Days continued and many years more passed, the community they created grew and it the population bloated that they have to expand their city into a country. The elder wood created by my staff was at the center of their country, and thanks to Alva I gained wisdom and knowledge that they attained for eons. But it seems like there's a curse within me that puts me asleep for a long period of time within uncertain interval of years.. I flee to the top of the tree and lay myself preparing to rest.

"I wanted to see how much will change when I wake up." I smiled