The Legend of Vaelithar – #Fantasy #FlashFiction

The Celestial Keeper of the Wilds

In the deepest heart of the Eldershade Forest, where the trees whisper secrets older than time and the air hums with unseen magic, a guardian is spoken of in hushed reverence—Vaelithar, the Celestial Keeper of the Wilds.

Legends say Vaelithar was not born of flesh and blood but woven from the golden threads of dawn and the last silver breath of twilight. Neither fully beast nor spirit, it roams the untouched places of the world, a bridge between realms, a watcher of balance.

It is said that long ago, the world was young and untamed before the mortal races spread across the land. The forests were boundless, the rivers ran pure, and the sky shimmered with the eternal light of the celestial realms. But as the first civilizations arose, greed and destruction also arose. The great trees were felled for fire, the rivers choked with waste, and the harmony of nature trembled.

Seeing this, Aurelthys, the goddess of balance and renewal, called upon the primordial forces of the world to summon a protector. She plucked a feather from the wings of the dawn, carved the grace of a stag from the wind, and wove into its heart the golden light of the Everstars. She breathed life into her creation, and from the sacred grove of the ancients, Vaelithar emerged.

The Trials of Vaelithar

The first task of Vaelithar was not to battle but to restore. Wherever its gilded hooves touched the earth, grass flourished, rivers ran clear, and the wounded land healed. It did not speak, yet all creatures understood its silent will. Wolves who once ravaged villages learned to hunt only what they needed. Rivers that had turned to poison ran clean once more and the trees that had been cut down in greed returned as towering guardians, their roots entwined with the wisdom of ages.

But the world does not change without resistance.

A king of men, whose greed knew no bounds, sought to claim Vaelithar’s power for himself. He sent hunters into the sacred groves, armed with weapons forged in dark magic. They chased the celestial beast for years, but Vaelithar was always beyond their reach—its wings faster than arrows, its antlers glowing with divine radiance, a phantom in the mist.

Frustrated, the king summoned Sorrelith, a sorcerer of shadows, who wove a terrible curse: “Let Vaelithar be bound not by chains but by sorrow. Let it bear the world’s grief so heavy that it cannot fly. Let it feel the pain of every broken tree, every slain creature until it is too weak to run.”

And so, the curse took hold.

Vaelithar felt the weight of suffering pressing against its golden frame for the first time. Every wounded animal, every dying forest, every poisoned stream became a burden upon its heart. The radiant light in its antlers dimmed, and its wings sagged under the sorrow of a world unraveling. The hunters closed in, believing their victory was near.

The Celestial Rebirth

As the hunters approached, the forest creatures—those whom Vaelithar had protected—came forth. The great stags of the forest formed a wall of protective antlers. The wolves who sang the mournful songs of nature to the listening sky stood beside them as fierce guardians. The rivers rose up out of their beds upon running feet, their waters forming shimmering barriers roaring between Vaelithar and his foes. Even the trees stooped to shelter their champion with impenetrable boughs of living green.

And then, the most sacred of all beings, the Spirit of the Eldershade, whispered a formidable truth to Vaelithar: “You were never meant to carry the world’s sorrow alone.” 

Vaelithar understood and with those words, the weight upon his head and shoulders lifted. The curse shattered like mist before the morning sun and Vaelithar rose upon wings of fire and starlight, its antlers igniting with golden radiance. By sharing the sorrow, grief, and pain he had carried with all of creation, he and the world was reborn.

At his victorious renewal, the hunters fled, their weapons turning to dust in their hands and their greed swallowed by the forest they sought to claim. The king, his heart turned hollow, faded into legend—a warning to all who would seek to bend nature to their will.

And Vaelithar?

He remains neither entirely of this world nor beyond it. It is said that those who wander too far into the sacred groves, with hearts burdened by greed, will feel the weight of their actions pressing upon them. They will hear the whisper of ancient leaves, feel the gaze of unseen eyes, and know that they are being judged. But those who walk with respect and honor the wild places catch a glimpse of golden feathers in the twilight and hear the quiet rustle of wings upon the wind.

Vaelithar still watches, protects, and waits until the world is in balance once more.

Thus, the legend of Vaelithar lives on, a reminder that the wild cannot be tamed, that balance must be honored, and that no burden must ever be carried alone.

And if, one day, you find yourself lost in a forest where the trees glow with golden dust and the air hums with forgotten songs—be still.

You may not see it.

But Vaelithar sees you.

.

~Morgan~

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