Long ago there was the Land, and there were its Creatures, as there still are today. And the Land was generous, for it loved the Creatures as it loved everything that grew or grasped or climbed or flew upon or across it. And the Creatures spread far and wide across the Land and learned many things; they learned the rhythms of the seasons and the language of the skies, and they knew the ground and the things that sprouted from it, and they grew strong and wise. And in that wisdom they gave thanks to the Land for keeping them nourished and protected.

Eventually, the Creatures came to a place where clear waters flowed deep and constant, teeming with fish and the hidden treasures of the sea. Here, the Land met the waters in a joyous embrace, and the Creatures marveled and rejoiced, and built a village where the bounty of the Land was rich and life was easy. The Land, seeing their happiness, poured forth even greater abundance. The grasses grew greener, the trees taller, heavy with fruit and seeds. Birds nested thickly in the canopies, their songs weaving with the wind to tell stories of plenty.

Each generation the village grew, and grew again, and the Land saw the happiness of the Creatures, and gave of itself more, the grasses and the trees growing lush and tall, full of fruits and seeds. The Creatures in turn felt the love of the Land, and more came to the village, which had grown into a town, and then grew again into a city, its towers scraping the sky.

But with growth came curiosity. The Creatures wondered where this bounty come from, how the Land could give so much. What was the source of the Land’s unending gifts? Their questions, once whispered, grew into a clamor, and their desire for understanding turned to yearning. “How do you give so much of yourself?” they asked the Land, “and why are we so worthy of your love?”

“You are loved the same as all others are loved, every rock and tree and rippling stream,” murmured the Land. “You are all one, and all deserving of love.”

And this was enough for a time, but a seed of doubt grew in the hearts of The Creatures. Surely they were special, to receive so much from the Land. They began to search for the root of the Land’s generosity. They dug into its soil, uprooting its grasses and felling its ancient trees. The Land groaned out, soft and sorrowful, but it continued to give, hopeful that the Creatures would gain peace from understanding, and remember the harmony they once had shared.

The Creatures became even more curious, their new knowledge driving them to yearn for more. They sought for the source of the Land’s power, which seemed infinite, and in their seeking they grew fearful, for what if the Land decided to take away its bounty? And their fear sharpened their curiosity with the hunger of possession, and cast long shadows that crept through the woods, to nip at their heels and drive them on.

So the Creatures searched, ever hungrier, for the secrets of the Land, digging into its flesh. And the Land cried out in pain, but still it gave, for the Creatures seemed so hungry, though it did not know what it was that they lacked. Had it not provided all they could need? The Land did not understand this new hunger that drove them, and its pain mixed with the shadows of the fear of the Creatures, until they lay thick all about the City, casting it into darkness.

The Creatures despaired as the Shadows fell, and their fear blossomed into anger. They blamed the Land, crying out in panic and rage. “If you seek to snuff us out, then we shall take your power for ourselves!”

And the Creatures reached further, deeper, and took the blood of the Land for their own. At last, they cried, they had found the secrets of true power, and their greatest minds hunted for the secrets of the blood. Touched by destruction as they were, they found that burning the blood released its power, power enough to bring light to the darkling city. Lamps and lanterns sparked in the gloom, more and more as the Creatures drank the blood of the Land, until they shone like the stars that twinkled far above.

The Land shuddered and convulsed, but still it gave to the Creatures, until it was exhausted and lay barren and desolate, for it had given all that it could. And it sobbed to the Creatures in despair and exhaustion, asking them to stop, to tell it how it could help. The rivers ran sluggish, and the great forests became swollen and clogged with terrors. The Land grew desperate. "What is it you seek? How can I help you?" it begged, but the Creatures, consumed by their hunger and fear, could no longer hear. They saw only the loss of the Land’s bounty and remained steadfast, decrying, “See how the Land fails us! We must take more, if we are to survive!”

The City gleamed with stolen starlight, even as its foundations trembled with the Land’s pain and the Shadows crept closer and closer, snapping at the edges of the gleaming buildings. The Creatures built walls with ever-burning lights to push back the darkness, and drained the Land’s blood to power them. And they dug ever onward, tearing through the Land’s sinews, to its very bones. And the last of the Land’s bounty faded away, the great plains of grass now dry rock and howling wind. The great forests darkened and grew strange, lost to Shadows and thick with pain and fear.

And the Land groaned and trembled, for at last it understood that the Creatures’ hunger could not be sated. The hunger that drove them was no longer to fill their bellies, to comfort them or support them. They hungered for the power they imagined, a power that the Land could not grant, and so they would drive themselves to destruction. And so when they struck the marrow of the Land, it could bear no more. With its last strength, the Land rose up, shattering the City’s shining towers, tearing through its roads and walls. "No more," it whispered. “You search for power, power enough to silence your fears forever. But fear is a part of all life, and pain is a part of living! That which you seek cannot be found! You will stop now, for you will destroy yourselves if you cannot, and this I cannot bear.” And the voice of the Land was a sound like thunder, like the breaking of waves, like the final breath of a dying tree, before at last it fell silent.

And the Creatures stood in the barren remains of their city, the Land now quiet, and stared at all they had wrought. The starlight of their towers flickered, and the Shadows crept ever closer, and the blighted rock wastes held their gaze. And at last they stirred themselves, and wondered at all they had lost in their desperate search for what they had always had. “We were mistaken,” they mourned. “Please, help us make it right.”

The Land was quiet now, too exhausted to reply. But a single green shoot sprouted, and the Creatures stood in awe as another grew beside it, and another, until a thin thread of life wound away from the ruins of their greed.

And so they all left, following the Land. And none have ever returned to the City of Starlight and Shadow.

Such was the way of it.