Nadir Storytime

Nadir Storytime

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While my shuttle reached ever-increasing temperatures as it plummeted rapidly through the pale green sky, I contemplated whether I should have closed my eyes or kept them open to the end. Did I want to have it all end in darkness or did I wish to witness the moment I die? After my encounter with that massive flock of Needlewinged, my shuttle was more akin to a pincushion than the luxury mobile aircraft it was supposed to be. Even if I had my parachute and leaped through the torn escape hatch, I would be instantly eviscerated by any Needlewinged still around. I’d be an easy target to skewer. What was I to do?

I rummaged through the front compartments for anything I could have used to distract me from my impending demise. However, all that I had stored were unopened packages, expired coupons from stores hundreds of years ago, and a plethora of letters. There was nothing to comfort me in my final moments. No fancy locket with a loved one's portrait or memory to cling to. I had long since had anything or anyone to call my own besides my prized shuttle—which was turned into an iron maiden casket with one last descent.

It was a good run. In the end, I decided to keep my eyes shut and wait through the terrible sound of tearing metals and screaming wind louder than my thoughts. I waited and waited but the screams continued. When the waiting grew too boring, I opened my eyes only to be met with silence and a face full of metal. All went dark and quiet.

Just as I had begun to drift forever into the darkness, I was dragged out by an incredibly scorching clutch. My vision came back to me in a dizzying flash of colors. It took a minute before I could see clearly again. When I had come to, I was greeted with the wreckage of my prized shuttle strewn across a desert of blue sand. There were packages and letters scattered around the crash site: some torn, others barely intact. The scorching clutch on my shoulders still had a hold on my shoulders. The heat felt terrible at first like the caustic flames of a Passionscramble but over time, it eased into a warmth like that of a nice woolen blanket.

When I turned to face the source of the heat, I was met face-to-face with a blazing thousand-tooth smile and an assortment of golden eyes dying and being reborn in a stupendous display like stars going supernova. It was a spectacle unlike anything I had ever seen and it was terrifying. I tried to avert my eyes from the living sun that stood in front of me but could not. I was addicted to the warmth. Suddenly, the warmth was cut off and I broke contact with the flame. I could finally look elsewhere and see the full form of the entity. I saw it for only a brief moment but that moment was all I needed. The entity’s body was like a brilliant stained glass depiction given form. At its core was a sphere of the grandest orange exploding and reforming constantly. At the center of the sphere was what looked to be a singular eye that looked terrified. Before I could see the rest of the entity, I was blinded and it disappeared.

I was now alone in the blue desert. It was time to do what I had done many times before… survive. I needed to gather information and supplies if I wanted to survive. My shuttle was ruined but it served as a basis of shelter in case I needed to stay. Even though it pained me to do so, I tore open the packages in case they had anything that could keep me alive. All I had was a few cans of pungent vegetable soup from my last stop. There was likely no way I was going to survive for long. The sky was a pristine solid white without a single blemish or star. The blue desert was also quite small and empty. At the end of the desert was a white void like that of the sky above. Things were looking exceedingly grim.

I survived off the awful soup for a while but soon I gave up hope of surviving. This was going to be the place to take me. It was not the explosive volcanic worlds or terror-filled seas but rather an oasis of blue sand in a void of white. I sat in the sand, looked toward the sky, and waited for starvation. However, instead of starvation, my meditation was broken by the heavy thumps of footsteps behind me. The sand shifted with each step. I was glad that it may not be starvation that kills me but rather an entity. I turned once the steps stopped.


A decrepit man with eyes sunken with millennia of torment stood firm in front of me. His clothes indicated that he was a fellow shuttle pilot. A badge on the right shoulder showed that he was from my organization but I had never met him before. Questions kept piling on as I stared at the old man who stood in silence also staring at me.

“Hermes’ Dispatch! For when you need to get mail fast!” I say with struggling breaths.

The man stares at me for a moment.

“English? Or was it Hangua? Or was it…”

“English.” I responded cutting him short.

“It has been… some time since I have heard English. What is your story?”

“I was just about to give up and die here before you showed up.” I responded.

“That is not your story. Who are you? How did you live your life? What drove you? What is your story?” He asked in an explosive voice.

“I don’t have nearly enough time to tell you all of that. I am about to starve to death.” I laugh.

“You fool! You are sat upon a mountain of food! The eggs of Blauf the scourge of Detroit 4!” He yelled at me.


I look at the blue sand and wonder if the old man is possibly insane.

“No, you are the fool if you think this sand is actually made of eggs.” I answer harshly.

The old man scooped up a handful of sand and dispersed it in the air. Then, he used a squirt gun that he somehow had to shoot water at the sand in the air. The sand bubbled and exploded into small octopus-like creatures that made horrible screeching noises. The octopus creatures continued to scream as they crawled all over the old man and started chasing me. I ran into my shuttle and searched for my gun. I scrambled around and could not find where I had left it. A singular scream broke my thoughts and I turned to see one of the octopi had gotten into my abode. I tried to stomp it but it darted around my shuttle from wall to wall with great speed. Without thinking, I grabbed an empty can and swung with all my strength. Somehow, I hit the octopus dead-on and heard a splat as it hit a wall.

I sat out of breath staring at the corpse of the blue octopus as I wondered how long until the others got into my shuttle.

“Dinner is ready!” The old man yelled from outside the shuttle.

I peered out a hole in the door and saw the man standing behind a cauldron lit with fire. An amazing smell seemed to be oozing out of the pot. I stepped out and was immediately given a silver bowl full of a nice azure soup. I knew where it came from but I could not believe it. I watched the old man without any wounds as he enjoyed his soup. How had he not been hurt? How did he make this? Where did he get the pots and bowls? I pondered these questions as I dug into the soup. It was… absolutely spectacular.

“I’ve learned that people are more willing to tell their stories over food and flame.” The old man spoke softly.

He kicked over the pot causing several more octopi to hatch and burn under the heat. He then threw a few logs of pale wood into the fire. I was watching carefully to see where the wood came from. He pulled each out from behind his back as if there was a box hidden behind him full of wood.

“Now then, are you ready to tell me your story? Your real story?” He asked.

“Where do I start?” I asked.

“From the beginning… no… before then. Who are your parents?”

“My parents were both hunters. They hunted the giant insects that stalked the woods around our town. It was a scary job to be sure. However, my parents were brave and fended off the bugs for all their years. They weren’t home often but still made sure I was taken care of. That was until they didn’t come back.”

“Giant insects. How big are we talking? Bigger than you or bigger than a house?”

“They were bigger than us but not bigger than our walls.” I reply.

“What color was the sky?”


“How many stars?”

“How am I supposed to know that? Lots?”

“How many moons?”

“Two moons. Greystar and Spectrebreak.”

“So you are from Siebenloss the cursed grey world of infestation?”

“I don’t remember but that does sound familiar. How do you know that space?” I responded.

“I am not the storyteller right now. You are the storyteller.” He responded angrily.

“Uh… anyways, at some point, I left my town with some outsiders. They took me through a stone archway in the mountains. They brought me to a school.”

“What did you learn at that school?”

“A variety of new subjects. I learned about limspaces and how to navigate them. My favorite subject was survival. It was in that class that I learned how to avoid dangers and survive any landscape I found myself in. I didn’t realize at the time what I was being taught for. However, I was happy.”

“Did you meet any people then?”

“I met lots of people! Many strange people too.”

“Did you make any friends?”

“Not really. Lots of people disappeared constantly. It was normal for people to never return.”

“What happened after school?”

“I graduated and was given the task of delivering mail across limspaces. Herme’s Dispatch was my group’s name. They gave me my shuttle and set me off. I was good at surviving wherever I was sent to and was great at delivering mail. I was called the best! I was proud of myself. Then, I got sent on my last mission to some farm in the middle of nowhere. I was on my way to this farm when my shuttle was attacked by a flock of Needlewinged. Then, I crashed here. That is my story.” I say with short breaths.

“What a pitiful story. There is no character or message. There are no triumphs or tragedies. It is as if your story is just the bare minimum. A framework of someone else's story. An incomplete tale.” He responded.

I did not realize that he had always been echoing when he spoke. His eyes were hollow but full of fiery rage and passion.

“You survived the glassing of Siebenloss and graduated from the Challenger’s school! Did you know the Challengers organization was destroyed millions of years ago? Their tech is beyond ancient now. You haphazardly tell your story which should be full of character and interest. Yet, you have no character! You are just a stubborn fool!” He yelled at me.

His words pierced me. They undid me as a person. All I could do was sit and try and stand the crashing waves of his words. The onslaught of berating continued for several minutes.

When he grew silent, the fire was long dead and everything was still. My soup had gone cold and his eyes stared through me.

“What is your story? Who are you?” I ask while holding back tears.

“You want to hear a good story? You want to hear my tale?” He asked.

“You listened to mine. It's the least I can do. It's not like I have anything else to do here.” I responded.

“Very well! Yes… my tale. But where to begin?”


Perhaps I should start with the universal truth! The forces of life and death are stronger than any other. Life and death fulfill their purpose without fail as they have and will forever. No one can escape death regardless of how much they struggle. Death always takes life’s creations for its own in the end. However, life continues to flourish. Death climbs an ever-increasing mountain of its catches until it reaches life to end it all. However, life continues to flourish even in the harshest of conditions. An endless chase. Life’s creations thrown around the universe are just steps for death to climb. This has always been the case and will be where you will eventually fall.

Long ago, before I had more names than the stars in the sky, I had only one name. Despite my efforts, this original name of mine has been lost to the deepest pits of my mind where my Librarians fear traveling. In the era when I had only one name, I was a mere human. I lived with my family… my tribe in an orange-hued world of trees and beasts alike. The days were full of joy and success while the nights were brimmed with terror. We could fend off the night with fire and we did so for several years. The monsters of the woods dared not to approach us when we danced the flames. One day, we lost the fire… then the darkness swallowed us. With just a shiv of bone and my body, I held off beasts unseen but ever-powerful. Back against a great pale tree and shiv in hand, I challenged the shadows. I heard the movement of lumbering beasts, howls of creatures either being eaten or about to eat, and the undeniable sound of death all around me. I stood my ground despite being outmatched in every way imaginable. The howls ceased and the dark was broken by a white flame. This was the first time I met Witherlight, the Navigator of the Dark, Extinguisher of Life’s Soul, Death incarnate.

Witherlight was guiding dozens of souls in a line unto a horizon of spectacular hues. I realized the souls were those of my family and I cried out to them. I tried to follow my family into the light but could not move… rather, I was not given a form in the darkness. All I was, was just enough to know my family had moved on without me. Witherlight turned its scintillating head toward me and dissolved into the darkness—leaving me alone once again.

I lingered isolated in the void for who knows how long until eventually, I saw color once more. The tree I had backed into that horrible night had now grown part of me… or perhaps I had grown part of the tree. My flesh had fused with the oak. I could feel the worms, ants, and beetles making their way around my body. I tried to move but was once again met with failure. My legs had been caked in pounds of mud and stone. I could see life in the forest now lit by the sun, the darkness was gone but I wished for it once more. I could do nothing as the tree grew on me more and more. I could do nothing while the bugs carved into my flesh and made nests. I could do nothing but see. The pain was unbearable and unending. I wished for death to take me. Once the tree had fully grown over me, my eyes slowly fused shut. I slept undying in the tree.

My vivid dreams were of my family and tribe as we danced and celebrated. We danced around the fire that held back the warping darkness. Slowly, my dream distorted as the flame died out. Once completely extinguished, I awoke once more. I was sat atop a stump in a garden of dead trees. The grass that was once a blooming orange was now a blistering brown and yellow. The bird's songs were completely silent. All was still beside me. My skin was a bleached bark paler than snow and my hands were shriveled like rotted fruit. I struggled once more to move off the stump but fell into the ash-tasting dirt. I crawled without sleep through the forest—using all my strength for every inch gained. The forest had completely changed since the last I had seen it. I could tell that several generations of life had been born and died. Something about this generation told me it was going to be the last to live. I was crawling through a dying world.

I crawled until I had grown enough strength to walk. My legs were covered in thick bark that hindered my movement. So, I pried the heavy wood off my legs. It was excruciatingly painful but I pushed threw as I had felt a pain worse in the darkness alone. My legs underneath the bark were frail like saplings, but I made due. I walked through the dying forest until I found an almost-gone river. All that was left in the dry bed was a lone bronze puddle. I found my muddy reflection in the puddle. As I stared at the strange form that reflected me, I felt the world around me exponentially crumbling.

I ran with all my strength to an unknown goal. My body moved on its own as if it was full of life and energy… unlike my mind which had been shrouded in darkness for eons. I dared not look back as I heard the crumbling of the earth, the falling of skinny trees, and the last breaths of the ground giving up. My surroundings were blended into a mess of old and dying nature. As I ran, I could feel the memories of my family’s life in this forest… not this forest but perhaps this world. It was all crumbling. I reached a cliff and saw that all below me, was gone. This was the end. I closed my eyes to greet the shadows one last time before I could reunite with my family. I wish that is what happened.

The rushing crumbling earth noises stopped. Silence screamed. I tore open my eyes and found a chunk of rock beneath my feet static in an emptiness. This emptiness was not the darkness but rather, it was nothing at all. It hurt my eyes to look at it, so I turned to look at the ground. This slab of rock was all that was here besides my weak old body. I sat in this emptiness alone once more for yet another eternity.

That was the last moment of what I would later find out to be the “limspace” known as Cavoth. It was also the first time I had witnessed the complete destruction of a limspace… and it would not be the last. I drifted in the emptiness until the slab of stone and I passed through a threshold into another world. The new world was much like the one I had just come through but was abundant with life. The most alien part of that world was me and the stone slab.

In this second world, I was given my second name… the “White Woodman”. It was an awful name given by residents of that world. They looked like humans but something was off about them. I believe it was their eyes. They were not friendly to me at all. They treated me as a beast. I was chased out of their impressive at the time village with torches. The fire hurt much more than it did when I was still flesh. That feeling of the flame… I can still remember it clearly. I ran through their life-filled forests.

I lived among the trees without a goal. I was used to not eating or sleeping after my time in the first void but I still longed to be human and enjoy food and rest. However, my tree body did not allow me such luxuries. So, I spent my time learning how my body worked and the life within the forest. The years passed quickly in those forests. I would sometimes encounter the humans and either be attacked or scare them off. Each time, they called me the White Woodman. I did not care much for humans as I found comfort in myself and the nature around me. I had learned all the birds' songs, the flowers’ dances, and the symphony of the forest. I could play a part in the orchestra as the caretaker or perhaps the orchestrator. I was a friend of all in the forest and felt genuine joy. I was prepared to spend the rest of my eternal life in the forest. However, as I was dancing in the trees, the humans were advancing in technology and needs. They came into my forest and stripped it of its beauty. Full of rage, I tried to stop them. However, their tech was too much for me as I was just made of wood. They destroyed me and I was reunited with the formless darkness.

The next time I was released from the void, I saw the world from among tall blades of grass. The familiar songs of the birds graced me as I tried to dance along. However, I was once again, unable to move. I was planted in the ground. This time, I was just a listener to the symphony. This made me happy as it was certainly better than the darkness. So, I sat and listened for years. Over time, I grew into a strong and tall bleached tree. While I had no part in the symphony, I served as the stage for others. Birds made nests among my branches, insects burrowed into my bark, and the wind whistled through my leaves. This happiness was wonderful.

However, like all goods things, it came to an end. The humans who had destroyed me had returned. This time, they had much more advanced tools. Their machines screamed and sparked as they butchered my century-old tree friends. I tried to scream at them to stop but I had no mouth. When they reached my thick bark, they sliced through me with ease. However, I did not fall. Instead, I burst out of the tree as a monster created out of the rage of the forest. I easily stood twice as tall as the humans. My claws could crush their machines as if made of sand. I enacted judgment against those who destroyed my nature family. I tore through their bodies with vicious fury. By the time I had cleared my head, the forest was just stumps surrounded by corpses. I was the monster they made me out to be all those years ago. I was the White Woodman.

I searched the world for a new forest to call home but all I found were damned human cities. They littered the planet like a disease. I had nowhere to hide. I had no place to call home. I wandered the small towns killing as many humans as I could. Sometimes, I would hide in abandoned homes and slowly steal the people away as they slept. The only things I gained from this were the satisfaction of enacting judgment, the slow culling of humans, and their language. After the eleventh town I destroyed, I could speak in their own tongue.

Sat atop a mountain of destruction, I was approached by a mob of humans. Their faces were full of rage and their voices were profanity. I had grown weak after all my previous battles and there was no way I could kill them all here. So, I spoke to them. I told them all I had seen and done. They accused me of lying and spreading discontent. However, my truths began to seep into their feeble minds and destroyed them from the inside out. I turned the people against each other. They fought over silly ideas and divided. I sat back and watched them destroy each other and laughed. Their weapons and cries were their own kind of symphony. Their tech grew at an exponential rate until the point where if either used their full strength, the world would be destroyed. I waited for the first strike, the last strike. But, it did not come. They were stuck in a stalemate. I could not do anything besides wait as my body had crumbled and been petrified by the wars.

They had long forgotten about me. I could tell because I was now a centerpiece in a park. Children played around my battered body as if I was not a monster. They called me “The Scorched Life”. I grew to appreciate the children playing. Their stories and games were quite imaginative. I wished I could move and join along but I was buried in the ground. Even if I got to move, I would surely have scared them. For thousands of years, I saw the passing of eras. At some point, the world was destroyed by the humans’ tools of death. I was caught in a massive explosion and erased completely. I was put in the darkness once more.


“I knew something was off about you.” I say.

“Off?” He asked.

“You aren’t human. You are merely wearing the skin of a man!” I say.

“I am as I appear to be and more. Beyond what you see, I have more forms and names to my identity. More that I will introduce as you listen to the rest of my story.” He responded.

“Wait, your story isn’t done yet?” I asked whiningly.

“No! My tale has only barely started! You only know of two of my forms tales! I have many that I will tell as you have agreed to listen to my tale. To know who I am, you must know all my forms and names!” He yelled in a chorus of millions of voices.

The man shifted his appearance into a massive white wooden creature with dozens of terrifying arms and a hateful expression etched into its bark. Then, he fell into a depreciated pile of wood tinted blue and black covered in ash. Then, he flashed through hundreds… no trillions of forms in an instant until becoming the elderly man once again.

"Now, let me continue my story…"

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