When worlds first began to form, they were pure and empty, like an endless canvas awaiting its first brushstrokes. The first living beings to appear in these worlds were the Ancients, whose curiosity and unpredictable will breathed life into the void.
They didn't seek meaning or purpose – they were drawn to creation itself, to playing with matter, their interest as innocent as a child first discovering the power of its hands.
At first, the Ancients created only mindless creatures, beings driven by instinct, filling the world with movement but not thought. These creations wandered aimlessly, led by their animal desires and blind hunger. Without intelligence, they were perfect servants for the whims of their creators.
But one day, after many failed attempts, one of the Ancients breathed a spark of intellect into a creature. Thus, the first Human came into being.
The Ancients, seeing their first sentient creation, felt something unusual – the Human stirred their interest deeper than they had expected. His mind was clear, open to learning, and his behavior only slightly predictable.
However, in a world filled with wild creatures, the Human had but a faint hope of survival. He wandered, struggled for food, and hid from predators, the lowest link in the chain of life, surrounded by dangers he couldn't overcome.
Some of the Ancients, observing him, grew sympathetic and favored him. They granted him Strength, allowing him to become a swift and courageous warrior. Learning to wield this strength, the Human could protect himself, hunt, and gather food, and his life gained a semblance of peace.
Yet Strength alone was not enough. Life taught the Human that without Wisdom, he would not survive long. So the Ancients granted him this gift as well, endowing him with the ability to understand, reason, and learn from his mistakes.
With Wisdom, the Human began to build, invent, and solve problems, finding solutions where he once knew only brute force. Each step he took, each experience he gained, became a building block on his path to greater understanding of the world.
With each passing year, the Human grew older, and the Ancients, seeing in him the fulfillment of their design, began to lose interest in him. They created many other beings in his likeness, and the Human was no longer the sole representative of the sentient kind.
Eternal life now seemed an unnecessary reward for their first creation, and his age felt insignificant, like the glimmer of his first steps.
But among the Ancients, one continued to take an interest in the Human – Beindarh. He saw in him not merely a creation but a tool for something greater. Unlike the others, he observed each of his steps and, like a patient artist, waited for the right moment to intervene again.
When the Human grew old and lost his former strength and wisdom, he found himself alone, surrounded by wild beasts. He lay on the ground, exhausted, bitterly accepting his inevitable death. At that moment, Beindarh spoke to him, his voice ringing like the distant, warm chime of a bell:
– Human, make a sacrifice for me, and I will help you.
Hearing the familiar voice, the Human felt a wave of hope, but understanding the conditions, he smiled bitterly.
– I have nothing left. I am old, frail, and mean nothing now. All I have left is my life, but if I give it, what will I have left?
Beindarh replied gently, almost tenderly:
– I don't need your life. I need your heart. Give it to me, and that will be enough.
– But without a heart... – the Human whispered, realizing the weight of the sacrifice, – I will die.
He raised his eyes to the sky, and the despair on his face pierced Beindarh. The Ancient held out a small flame to the Human, soft, like the warm light of a candle.
– Your heart will become a seed for the future, – he said. – This flame is a symbol of hope that will remain after you and guide your descendants forward.
The Human closed his eyes, understanding that he faced his final choice. With pain but with certainty, he agreed:
– Let my heart become the seed for my race. Let them live and overcome where I could not.
With these words, the Human tore out his heart and offered it as a sacrifice to Beindarh. He died, but his heart, restless, continued to beat, glowing in shades – light, red, and finally dark – as a symbol of life yet to come.
Beindarh, looking at the heart in his hand, smiled like a child rejoicing over a new toy, and murmured with anticipation:
– I hope the human race does not disappoint me. Let them become something unknown even to the Ancients.
He released the heart, allowing it to take root in the earth, and soon seeds sprouted from it, spreading across the world, creating the first race of Humans – those who inherited their ancestor's strength, wisdom, and undying hope.
The Ancients, content in their detached observation, didn't even suspect that this new race would bring changes that would transform not only the worlds but themselves as well.