The Seed That Knew Too Much

The scene was truly breathtaking as the plant’s leaves and blossom displayed a mesmerizing combination of colors that captivated the onlookers. The plant seemed to radiate with life and energy, and upon closer inspection, it was discovered that there were regrowth seeds present in its bloom. This was a clear indication that the plant was not only thriving but also possessed an incredible ability to overcome adversity and bounce back stronger than ever before. It was a remarkable sight to behold, and it left a lasting impression on all those who witnessed it. Propelled by a powerful gust of wind, she soared to great heights, where the plant remained concealed. From its elevated vantage point, she perceived this as the most fortuitous occurrence. Despite acknowledging the ideal surroundings, she realized it was impossible to flourish in the sky.

She felt a sense of excitement and anticipation as she was carried by the gentle breeze towards a charming valley. It was as if she had stumbled upon the perfect environment for flourishing. The pure, fertile soil seemed to be calling out to her, urging it to take root and grow. 

As she descended, it imagined all the admirers who would soon come to marvel at its beauty. The thought of being admired and appreciated filled her with a sense of pride and accomplishment. It was determined to grow into a strong and beautiful plant, one that would be admired by all who passed by. 

The strong gusts of wind made her feel alive and invigorated, filling her with excitement for the new chapter in her life. She could almost hear the cheers and applause of the unseen crowd, urging her on towards her dreams.

As she finally arrived at what seemed to be her new home, the wind seemed to whisper words of encouragement, promising her that she was exactly where she was meant to be. The seed knew that’s what the wind meant by this. But something unforeseen happened, she was blown almost halfway across the state. 

As she blew further into the unfamiliar territory, she noticed the soil beneath her looked different - seemed richer and fertile. The vibrant colors of the flowers that surrounded seemed to glow with an otherworldly brightness, filling her with a sense  of wonder and awe.

Deep down, she could feel a connection to this place, a feeling of belonging that she couldn't quite explain. It was as if the very earth beneath was whispering to her, telling her that she had finally found the right spot to plant her roots and grow.

The environment was full of wildlife. She was ready to start her journey to fulfill its purpose. She sensed a decrease in the wild surroundings. She was curious about the reason for this change. She felt a sense of belonging in this new environment.

As she settled into the soil, she envisioned the future and the joy it would bring to many. She imagined the smiles, the photographs, and the emotions it would evoke. However, her plans were disrupted by strong gusts of wind from all directions, pushing the seed in a different path to the north. Feeling disoriented and uncertain, she doubted whether it would ever fulfill its purpose. A source code that native hasn’t been written to be a beautiful flower. She began to lose her sense of reassurance she once had. 

She knows how to grow; she knows the type of soil and sun light she needed. But something must be wrong because she was still searching. After what felt like an eternity, she began to lose hope. It believed that its true potential would never be realized and accepted her fate to be carried away by the unpredictable wind. The wind finally subsided, and the seed came to a rest in a new and unfamiliar location.

“What is this?” she thought as she looked around at the barren landscape. There were no trees, no flowers in sight. Feeling out of place, she waited for a gust of wind to carry her to a more suitable location where she could be admired. However, instead of wind, rain began to fall. Understanding its purpose, she autonomously carried out its duty and planted herself in the soil. 

As time passed, people from near and far started to visit the once desolate area. They were not there for the usual reasons like walking along a path or admiring the foliage or wildlife. They were drawn to the indescribable and unmatched beauty of the flower that had bloomed from the seed. The flower whispered to itself, “I knew it all along.”  

In the heart of the kingdom of Eldoria, where towering castles kissed the sky and lush meadows sprawled across the land, there lived a spearman named Thalon. The spearman was a highly respected and admired figure among the residents. His impressive victories, the trophies displayed in his home, and the stories of defeated challengers spread throughout the community and beyond. Known for his exceptional skill and accuracy with the spear, he could hit targets at incredible distances that seemed almost impossible. With a single, powerful throw, he could swiftly take down any creature that stood in his way, earning both fear and admiration from all who saw his remarkable abilities.

Renowned for his extraordinary skill, Thalon was not just any man; he was a legend. Tales of his bravery echoed through the corridors of the grand citadel, across busy market squares, and into the whispers of the forests. Thalon, it was said, could not miss.

Thalon had shown an uncanny talent from a young age with the spear. When he was just a boy, he could strike a moving target from incredible distances with such precision that it seemed supernatural. He trained day and night, perfecting his technique, honing his strength, and sharpening his focus. By the time he came of age, there was no one in Eldoria who could rival his skill. The spear, in his hands, became an extension of his very will.

One autumn day, as the leaves turned gold and the air grew crisp, a dark shadow loomed over Eldoria. Far to the north, in the desolate mountains, a world ender that lay dormant for years started to crack open its eyes. A dragon of unforeseen comparison awakened from centuries of slumber. With scales like molten rock and eyes that burned like embers, The world ender better known as (W.E.) by the natives, descended upon the kingdom, spreading terror and destruction. The king, desperate to save his people, called upon his bravest warriors to confront the beast, but none returned. Word was spread all over with very little warriors to answer the call. 

In this dire hour, Thalon approached the king. Strapped in simple armor, with his trusted spear in hand, he bowed and spoke with calm determination. "Your Majesty, allow me to face the dragon. I will not miss."

The king, though weary and grief-stricken, saw the unwavering resolve in Thalon's eyes. He nodded solemnly. "May the gods be with you, Thalon. Our hopes rest on your shoulders."

Setting out at dawn, Thalon journeyed north, traversing treacherous paths and dense forests. Days turned into nights, and nights into days, but he never faltered. Guided by the tales of villagers who had seen the dragon's wrath, Thalon finally reached the desolate mountains. There, amidst the dangerous peaks and swirling mists, he found W.E.

The dragon, sensing an intruder, let out a deafening roar that shook the very earth. Flames erupted from its maw, scorching the ground. Undeterred, Thalon stood his ground, his spear poised and ready. As W.E. lunged, Thalon moved like the vigilant warrior he was. Thinking of a plan to rid the kingdom of this leviathan, the knowledge that was gained from the villagers kicked in. 

Word had reached Thalon of a crucial vulnerability in the dragon's otherwise impenetrable armor. It was said that world ender, bore a small opening on its chest, a flaw so minuscule that only a strike guided by divine precision could pierce it. This knowledge was both a beacon of hope and a daunting challenge, for the legend implied that only a god could exploit such a weakness with a spear.

As Thalon faced the behemoth, W.E. grew increasingly irate. The dragon's massive, fiery eyes tracked the swift human, who rolled and sidestepped the beast's titanic assaults. Each swipe of W.E. claws and each lash of its tail seemed to cleave the very air, but Thalon remained a step ahead, moving with an agility that baffled the colossal creature.

Thalon's movements were not mere reflexes born of desperation; they were the execution of a meticulously crafted strategy. Every dodge, every feint, was a calculated effort to close the distance between him and the dragon. He knew that to strike the fatal flaw, he had to get closer, much closer.

The battlefield was a chaotic dance of fire and fury, but Thalon's mind was a sanctuary of calm precision. He observed the rhythm of W.E. attacks, noting the brief moments when the dragon's guard dropped. With each evasion, he inched nearer, his eyes locked onto the tiny, almost imperceptible weakness on the dragon's chest.

The World ender, frustrated by the elusive warrior, let out an earth-shaking roar and unleashed a torrent of flames. Thalon, anticipating the move, rolled to the side and sprang up with the grace of a seasoned acrobat. He was now within striking distance. The dragon reared back, preparing to crush the persistent human with a devastating blow.

In that split second, Thalon saw his opening. With a surge of energy, he propelled himself forward, his spear aimed with unwavering focus. Time seemed to slow as he thrust the weapon towards the small opening on W.E. chest. Every ounce of his skill, every moment of his training, culminated in this singular strike.

The spear, guided by Thalon's extraordinary precision, found its mark. Piercing through the vulnerable spot, it plunged deep into the dragon's heart. The World Ender let out a final, anguished roar as its colossal body convulsed and then collapsed, the flames in its eyes extinguishing.

Following his demonstration of exceptional skills to the King, Thalon was declared the greatest spearman in the entire known land. The tales of his triumphant battle with the dragon spread throughout the kingdom, leading people to start regarding him as a deity or godlike figure of sorts.

As recognition for his remarkable achievements grew, the villagers started erecting pictures and small statues in honor of Thalon, celebrating his talent with the spear. Amidst all the admiration and energy directed towards Thalon, an unseen entity was observing the unfolding events with keen interest. This entity, who later revealed himself as The God Of Accuracy, began to assert his presence in the village. However, tales and whispers also circulated about his ill reputation for employing cunning and deceptive tricks in addition to his renowned accuracy.

Thalon, fully aware of his boundless energy and exceptional skills, began to experience a profound sense of confidence and inevitable success whenever he wielded the spear. His prowess was so renowned that countless villagers sought his expertise for various tasks and challenges, secure in the knowledge that Thalon's talent would ensure flawless execution. With his unfailing precision and reliability, there was no need for prayers or hopes for accuracy; as long as Thalon was available, the outcome was certain to be nothing short of perfection. 

The villagers had grown accustomed to the sensation that took over them whenever they prayed for accuracy. They believed that the God of Accuracy would intervene, making the final judgment. In a voice covered with superiority, the deity would ponder to himself, "Should I bestow this fragment of my divine ability upon this worshipper this time? Or should I step back and let him attempt it on his own?" Knowing that his own precision was impeccable, the god rarely gave his assistance. In fact, there were instances where he would even make it more challenging for the worshipper to hit the target. Though the villagers could never see the deity, they always attributed their failures to strike to insufficient worship, never realizing that the god's devious nature played a role in their shortcoming 

The God of Accuracy grew increasingly angry by the dwindling number of requests for his divine intervention. Frustrated, he resolved to eliminate the cause of his discontent. Disguised in humble garments, he appeared in the heart of Eldoria, his deep voice resonating through the town square. "He who can capture this bird unharmed and present it before me by sundown tomorrow shall be declared the new God of Accuracy," he proclaimed.

The news spread like wildfire, carried by scouts and swift bird messengers to the farthest corners of the land. The task seemed nearly insurmountable; the bird’s erratic flight patterns and its fierce nature made the challenge daunting. Despite the day being far from over, word of the divine decree reached Thalon.

Eldoria buzzed with excitement and apprehension. Villagers whispered among themselves, contemplating the enormity of the task. The bird, a symbol of elusive precision, darted through the skies, its every movement a testament to the difficulty of the challenge. Yet, amidst the growing tension, a sense of anticipation filled the air, for Thalon's name was on everyone's lips. Could the master spearman rise to this extraordinary occasion and claim the divine title?

Thalon, with a sense of urgency and determination, began assembling his gear and traps, intent on completing the seemingly impossible task before sundown the next day. His mind raced with strategies, each more intricate than the last, as he prepared for the challenge ahead. 

Meanwhile, the devious God of Accuracy, cloaked in his humble disguise, approached Thalon with a cunning glint in his eye. "The villagers are preparing a grand celebration in your honor, believing you will soon be the new God of Accuracy," the god said in a soft, resonant voice.

Thalon, momentarily taken aback, replied, "But I have yet to capture the bird."

For the first time, a flicker of arrogance crossed Thalon's mind. He thought to himself, "No one is as skilled as I am; this title is practically mine already." The newfound confidence mingled with his determination, creating an unshakable resolve within him.

As Thalon set out into the wilderness, the whispers of the villagers' preparations reached his ears. They had already begun to celebrate, lighting bonfires and hanging ornaments in anticipation of his imminent success. The night sky filled with the sounds of music and laughter, as if the entire village collectively believed in Thalon's inevitable triumph.

The devious god, watching from the shadows, smirked to himself. He had sown the seed of overconfidence, curious to see if Thalon's self-assuredness would lead to his downfall or elevate him to new heights. The challenge had become more than just capturing a bird; it was now a test of Thalon's character and the true measure of his skills.

As the first light of dawn broke through the trees, Thalon moved silently and swiftly, his traps and tools at the ready. Every step, every breath was calculated, as he hunted the elusive bird with the precision and expertise that had earned him his legendary reputation. The villagers' faith in him was not misplaced, but the god's interference added an unpredictable twist to his journey.

As Thalon watched with intensity, his eyes locked on the elusive prized bird darting through the sky, he made a split-second decision. With a swift and precise motion, he hurled his spear towards the bird, guided by a mixture of skill and determination. The spear flew true, hitting its mark with uncanny accuracy, covering the bird in the net below.

With a deft tug of the net, Thalon expertly closed the trap, securing his place as the next deity of precision and accuracy. Overwhelmed with joy and pride in his accomplishment, Thalon dashed towards the only sanctuary where such a rare trophy could be kept safe - his mother's home.

Eager and breathless, Thalon sprinted towards his mother's cozy home, his chest heaving with exhilaration and a sense of impending glory. The realization that he had demonstrated his worthiness for divine elevation coursed through his veins like a surge of electricity, propelling him forward with renewed vigor and purpose.

Upon reaching the safety of his mother's home, Thalon carefully concealed the captured bird in his mother's home, ensnared in the net and shrouded in a soft woolen blanket, ensuring its protection from prying eyes and cunning thieves. 

Then, without wasting a moment, Thalon set off towards the bustling village, eager to share the news of his imminent ascension to godhood with his fellow townspeople. The streets echoed with his footsteps as he made his way through the lively marketplace, the air vibrating with a palpable sense of anticipation and excitement.

As he approached the heart of the village, Thalon could already hear the sounds of revelry and merriment spilling out from the taverns and gathering places. A chorus of cheers and congratulations awaited him, a prelude to the grand celebration that would mark his transition from mortal to deity.

With each step, Thalon's heart swelled with pride and gratitude, knowing that his journey to divine status was about to reach its pinnacle. The path to godhood lay before him, illuminated by the blazing fire of his own determination and the unwavering support of his community. And as he prepared to embrace his newfound destiny, Thalon felt a profound sense of fulfillment and purpose wash over him, propelling him towards a future filled with boundless potential and limitless possibilities.

As Thalon's human side took over, he momentarily cast aside his monumental task, his heart and mind now wholly absorbed in the festivities. This lapse in focus provided the perfect window of opportunity the cunning God.

Seated inconspicuously outside Thalon's mother's small home, the deity had cloaked himself in the guise of a humble villager. With a voice that carried the warmth of genuine curiosity, he ventured, "Have you heard the astounding news? The spearman has captured the elusive prize. It seems he is destined to be proclaimed a god."

Thalon's mother face lighting up with pure, unrestrained joy, beamed with pride at the mention of her son's remarkable achievement. Sensing her joy, the God masterfully appealed to her nurturing instincts, "For someone who has accomplished such a monumental feat," he continued, "a celebration of divine proportions is only fitting. He truly deserves a feast for a god."

The words, woven with both sincerity and cunning, struck a chord deep within her. Envisioning the honor and glory that would soon be bestowed upon her son, she began to plan an extravagant celebration worthy of his impending godhood, unaware of the divine games at play.

Overwhelmed with joy and exhilaration, Thalon's mother sprang into action, her heart filling with pride and anticipation. She hurriedly gathered ingredients, her mind racing with thoughts of the grand feast she was about to prepare. Each step she took was infused with a mother's love and the hope of honoring her son's impending divinity.

In her kitchen, the rhythmic sound of chopping and the gentle bubbling of simmering pots filled the air, creating a symphony of culinary delight. As she moved with purpose, her hands slicing and stirring, a faint rustling caught her attention. It came from a woolen blanket, carelessly draped over a stack of firewood in the corner of her home.

Curiosity caught her, she approached the mysterious bundle, her mind filled in confusion. With a swift motion, she pulled back the blanket, revealing a bird tied down. For a moment, she stood there, bewildered, trying to piece together the puzzle of how this creature had come to be in her home. Then, as her gaze shifted back to her of ingredients and dishes, she had prepared, a sudden realization dawned upon her.

This bird, she thought, could be the crowning glory of the feast—a main course worthy of a god. Her heart gathered with a mix of emotions, the pride in her son's achievement, and the overwhelming desire to make this celebration truly magnificent.

Thalon celebrated in the festivities until the sky began to turn to dusk. The vibrant energy of the celebration gradually faded away, giving way to yawns and the sleepy blink of weary eyes. As the revelers drifted towards their homes, Thalon felt the pull of his own, to head back to his mother's home.

As he approached his mother's house, the gentle glow of candles and lanterns flickered through the windows, casting a welcoming light that danced on the evening breeze. The sight filled his heart with an almost childlike anticipation. He barely had time to knock before the door swung open, revealing his mother, her face alight with pride.

“Thalon!" she exclaimed, wrapping him in an embrace that spoke volumes of her joy and love. "I am so incredibly proud of you." 

With a tender smile, she pulled him inside, and he was immediately enveloped by the comforting aromas of home-cooked food. Thalon's heart swelled with happiness as he took in the scene—a table adorned with an array of dishes prepared.

As he settled into his seat, his mother's eyes sparkled with curiosity and admiration. Eager to share his triumphs, Thalon began recounting the day's festivities, his voice animated with excitement. He spoke of the cheers of the townsfolk, and the preparations that had led to his monumental achievement.

His mother listened intently, her face a canvas of emotions, each one a testament to her pride and love. She placed a plate before him, filled with an assortment of delicacies that she had prepared with her own hands. Sitting beside him, she hung on every word, her heart swelling with each tale of bravery and determination.

A peculiar glow and the whispering of the wind called out to Thalon, stirring his curiosity to venture outside. He grabbed his trusty spear and set off towards the enigmatic light emanating from the forest's edge. As he approached a clearing, his eyes widened in awe; there, hovering majestically, was the God of Accuracy.

Thalon, humbled by the divine presence, bowed his head before speaking. "Are you the God who will elevate me to deity?" he asked with a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

The God’s voice resonated through the stillness of the forest. "Have you captured the bird unharmed?" 

Thalon’s heart swelled with pride at the reminder of his accomplishment. Puffing out his chest, he declared, "Yes, and ahead of schedule." Without another moment's hesitation, he sprinted back to his mother's home to fetch the bird, his steps fueled by excitement.

"Mother, are you here?" he called out as he burst through the door. But the house was eerily silent. The kitchen table was spotless, with no trace of the earlier feast. A sense of unease crept over him as he pulled back the wool blanket where he had secured the bird. His eyes fell upon the remnants of cut rope; the bird was gone.

Confusion and anger churned within him, boiling to the surface. Thalon dashed back to the clearing, desperation etched on his face. "The bird was there, I placed it there, and now it's gone," he stammered, his voice tinged with bewilderment.

The God of Accuracy looked down upon him, his gaze piercing. With a tone dripping with disdain, he responded, "Well, it appears you have not succeeded in this task. Imagine what people will say when they hear that the Great Spearman has failed so miserably."

As Thalon's mind raced with thoughts of who could have possibly stolen from his mother, he couldn't fathom that anyone with a kind heart would dare to enter the home of a poor, elderly woman and commit such a despicable act. With the presence of the God of Accuracy by his side, a bold idea took root in Thalon's mind.

"May I ask for the gift of accuracy?" Thalon's words flowed effortlessly from his lips, a simple yet profound request that held the weight of his determination.

The God of Accuracy regarded him with a knowing gaze, his expression unreadable. "What target do you seek to aim at with such precision?" he inquired, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

Thalon's eyes gleamed with purpose as he considered his response. This was his chance to right the wrong that had befallen his mother, to seek out the truth with unwavering accuracy. With a steely resolve, he spoke, "I seek the target of the thief who dared to steal from me the task that would grant me to become the new God of Accuracy.”

A sense of determination settled over Thalon as he awaited the God's response, his heart pounding with anger. The forest around them seemed to hold its breath, the stillness broken only by the whisper of the wind. 

A cunning smile played upon the lips of the God of Accuracy, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he beheld the target of Thalon's spear. With a potent blend of the god's powers and Thalon's talent, the outcome seemed all but inevitable. "I bestow upon you this gift," the Gods voice holding a subtle undercurrent of anticipation.

With a determined stance, Thalon raised his spear high into the sky, a symbol of his unwavering resolve and newfound accuracy. The gleaming weapon seemed to ascend endlessly, disappearing into the vast expanse above as if swallowed by the very heavens themselves. A moment of eerie silence enveloped the clearing, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves in the wind.

Then, a sound pierced the stillness, like a thunderclap echoing through the forest. The earth seemed to tremble beneath Thalon's feet as a primal, gut-wrenching scream shattered the tranquility of the woods. The anguished cry tore through the air, carrying a weight of despair and agony that struck Thalon to his core.

His heart pounding in his chest, Thalon's legs gave way beneath him, his breath catching in his throat as he recognized the voice that rent the air. It was his mother's voice, her screams of terror and pain searing through his soul like a blade.

As Thalon leaped to his feet, his instincts driving him to reach his mother's side, the God's malicious laughter filled the air, sending a chill down his spine. In a flash of malevolent light, the deity vanished. But before Thalon could reach his mother, tragedy struck with cruel precision.

His spear, once a symbol of his prowess and determination, now became a weapon of sorrow as it pierced his mother's fragile heart. With trembling hands, he withdrew the blood-stained weapon from his mother's chest, the weight of his actions crushing him with unbearable guilt and grief.

As his mother's life faded away in his arms, her eyes dimming with the flicker of her last breath, Thalon's anguished cry filled the air. The pain of loss and betrayal tore through him, leaving him shattered and hollow as he cradled her lifeless form against his chest. "My heart is shattered," he wailed, his voice a raw, primal expression of his torment.

In the midst of his despair, Thalon's agony reached out to the God of Consequences, a plea for understanding in the face of his unforgivable mistake. In a swirl of ethereal energy, the deity materialized before him. With a voice that carried the weight of fate itself, he delivered his judgment upon Thalon's shattered soul.

"For these grievous acts, you shall forever be bound to the anguish of mothers in need," the God intoned, his words a solemn decree that echoed through the depths of Thalon's being. "You are now tied to your spear, a vessel of their hearts and their cries for salvation. Your penance shall be to answer their prayers, to bear the burden of their pain for all eternity."

And with those haunting words, the bond between Thalon and his spear was sealed, a curse that would echo through the ages as a reminder of the consequences of his actions. As the weight of his newfound destiny settled upon him.