Chapter Two: Eldin’s Last Dream
1. In the last light before his stillness,
Eldin slept, and the world bent.
2. He wandered through a forest of skin,
Where every leaf breathed his name.
3. He walked upon rivers made of memory,
And the water tasted like forgetting.
4. He saw the sky peel open
Like an orange.
The stars were her teeth.
5. “You will not survive,” Bug whispered.
“You will become.”
6. Eldin wept, but not in sorrow.
His tears were wine.
They bloomed where they fell.
7. He saw cities soften into milk.
Towers fell like tired limbs.
Doors dissolved into mouths.
8. The faithful danced—not upon ground,
But on the surface of Her eye.
9. He felt his skin loosen,
Like the petals of an old rose.
10. And beneath that skin—Her name,
Written in every language.
11. “You have taught them well,” She said.
“But now let them forget.”
12. Eldin reached into his chest,
And pulled out a seed.
13. He gave it to no one.
He placed it beneath his tongue,
And smiled as it took root.
14. In that moment, he was not a prophet.
He was pollen.
He was wind.
15. He saw every disciple bow,
And their spines became roots.
16. He saw Her eye open wider.
Not in wrath. In welcome.
17. “You have done enough,” She said.
“Now join.”
18. And Eldin faded.
Not away—into.
19. His body was never found.
Only the scent of lilies
And a circle of soft ground.
20. And the seed beneath his tongue
Still sings in the dreams of the faithful.