From Ore
I was brought into this world just like everyone else... via mine cart.
I don't particularly remember the details, but the prospector told my parents that I was solid from the moment the miners dipped my molten body into the lifespring. He said I didn't cry, but the midwife was teary eyed because it was her first delivery.
I was laid in the sands and dusted immediately for my first bath, then I was salted for good luck and prosperity, laid in a bed of gravel to make me strong, and pushed out of the mountain. My mother always recalled my day as a cool and temperate one. My father cared not for the weather, he only remembered that he received his first son and thanked The EarthMother for his continued lineage.
I was not spoiled, nor was I without want. I had a humble childhood, an upbringing forged in love, held together by the path my elders and the gods set before me.
I was blessed.
My halcyon years would not be the only time I would be grateful for, as my youth extended into young adulthood, I would find a noble profession... and love. I was handed a chisel at the early age of sixty-seven, almost forty years before any youth would normally consider their calling and accepted my first apprenticeship at ninety-nine. As I neared the completion of the first half of my tutelage I was lucky enough to gaze upon the woman I would eventually call wife.
Garnet.
She feigned disinterest at first, playfully spurning my advances as she focused on her own career as an Obit. It wasn't until I became a Scribe and she too completed her respective training, that she finally considered courtship.
Fifty-eight years would be the term of our engagement; longer than most, but still shorter than my parents'. We fulfilled every part of our vows to each other, except one.
We would have no children.
Better that we didn't, as the rage of the Titans brought an unholy cleansing upon the world. The fury of war took over the land, with it my Garnet. I commanded no army, but I accepted my duty to my people, my gods, and the sweet memory of love. I fought for two hundred and sixteen years in what we now call The Last War.
Our numbers have dwindled, but our enemies are forever gone.
I am the last to remember the time before peace. I can only hope the children are wise to remember all that I have bestowed upon them before I deliver myself back to the earth. I am confident my words, as they have been chiseled in stone, can serve as a reminder in the darkest hours and most trying times.
My time is done now; I will leave this world just like my father and his father.
Via mine cart.
I will give my last breath to the lifespring as the prospector baptizes me in its waters and I will gently dissipate in the warmth of my earthen bedrest. I will give myself back to The EarthMother so she may create life anew from ore.
