The Razing of Jade Hill
Once there existed a town of great wealth and plenty: the town of Jademoore. Founded at the base of a hill of vibrant grass, Jademoore benefited from a fast-flowing river to provide drinking water and irrigate crops. The weather was always fair, and even as climates and circumstances changed around it, it was largely peaceful.
Jademoore also had a temple to Time, at the top of Jade Hill itself. The temple was small and quiet, and no one ever emerged from it that had not passed through Jademoore to visit it as a pilgrim. Many had made the voyage there, and to the people of Jademoore, the purposes of such voyages were mysterious; few priests ever talked about what they had done in the temple, or what they had seen.
But Jademoore was founded in a time of strife and shaken faith. The gods had not interceded to protect mankind’s satisfaction to protect it from the Quartzpike plague, and few trusted the gods then, even among People. That the temple might contribute to the prosperity of their town did not seem likely to them, and that religious pilgrims passed through Jademoore to visit it bothered them.
Thus did those living in Jademoore march up the hill. They found the temple undefended, with no priest presiding over it. There was only a single building, open air and covered in moss and flowers, made entirely out of jade – green, yellow, purple and finally blue. The amount of jade was truly staggering, and the handicraft awe-inspiring.
But in one full night, the temple was torn down. Books were burned and tapestries incinerated; pillars vandalized and statues broken; and the temple’s supporting jade was smashed, losing its colour as it fragmented and rolled down the hill, forming a bed of gravel around Jademoore.
Lingering Summer Heat
It is said that Time is patient, and there are many reasons that this might be. For thirteen days after the destruction of the temple on Jade Hill, nothing happened; the townsfolk went about their business, feeling a cruel sort of catharsis at the temple’s destruction. From the first day to the thirteen, a priestess, Belle, travelled from her distant forest home to Jademoore.
When she arrived, she was prevented from visiting what remained of the temple by the townsfolk. They told her what had happened honestly; they warned her away from visiting or returning; they told her to inform her fellows of what they had done. Though Belle was dismayed, she saw no opportunity to argue. She offered a prayer to Time when she was as close to the temple as she could be, and then moved on to the next step in her pilgrimage.
But on the fourteenth day, when Belle had left, the flames which burned the interior of the temple began anew. They burned hot and deep even against the stone, starting from the grass around the temple and expanding to create a vast pyre in the shape of a bonfire. Though the stone would not break or melt, it carried that heat, burning ceaselessly, from when it started until dusk, where townsfolk arrived with buckets to put it out.
But the following day the temple burned once more, starting at the same time of the day, in the same shape, at the same speed. The spread of the fire was all but identical, and the heat it brought meant that the clouds of autumn, which the townsfolk of Jademoore had been expecting, were obscured by heavy smoke.
And when the townsfolk went to fetch buckets of water with which to put out the burning temple, they discovered that the water would not flow. When one of their number scooped up water from the river, a hole in the bucket’s shape remained. No matter how far upriver or downriver they travelled, the water did not flow. And the heat and smoke meant that none could safely travel very far along the river.
The Stream of Tears
Though the townsfolk had failed to solve their predicament, they yet sought to do so. They purchased good water from travelling merchants and neighbouring towns and forests; they used even the filthy water of the farther rivers they had previously ignored. But none were satisfied with this. The cost of the good water strained their resources and took from their crops; the filthy water left them sick and endangered the young and old.
In Jademoore, the priestess Belle now lived. She had travelled there after seeing the smoke rising from Jade Hill. Though she was dismayed at the state of affairs in Jademoore, she still wished to help the people living there. She attended to those who had become sick from the river water and discussed the situation with the town’s powerful, who offered her only a few resources with which to aid them.
Though Belle tried her hardest to work with the townspeople and to use their methods to solve the drought, and though she was able to render them happy and healthy once more, performing miracles so that one batch of water could be given to multiple people, she knew that to continue solving their problems with her own paws would be to commit herself to becoming Jademoore’s shaman for all of her life.
Belle prayed to Time for guidance, and she had a vision: of passing through fire and rolling through grass, of praying and placing offerings and then standing to leave. Though the vision was vague, it held great power: where before Belle had only considered visiting Jade Hill, now she felt an inescapable urge to do so. That night, she prepared herself and left for the Hill, where the temple still burned yet never fell.
First, Belle parted the flames by waiting until they waved away from her, then stopping the flow of time. She stepped forward, her footsteps the only noise in the halls of the temple of Time. Second, she focused and recalled a time where the temple had stood emberless, without falling stone and melted tapestry, bearing Time’s colours in timeless stone. Time itself worked around her and returned the temple to its prior state. Finally, she laid herself down and prayed.
She prayed that Time would grant eternal peace to this temple and return the prospect of peace to Jademoore. She prayed that where the flow of water had died, it would return again and mend both flesh and plant. She laid there and prayed for a full hour, doing nothing else, and leaving herself and her conviction open to Time.
It is there that she was killed by an assassin from Jademoore, sent because she was suspected of having a hand in Time’s bane. As she laid dying, her blood seeped out unto the temple floor, and her body began to lose its strength. But her conviction remained and her prayer continued. She pled with Time not to resent those who had brought about her unjust death, but to grant them mercy beyond ignorance. She prayed: if I am to lose my life, may they at least keep theirs, to see what beauty Time works beyond the moment of my death.
Her prayer was answered. The flames bearing summer heat down upon Jademoore ceased and the water from the Jade River flowed once more. And the temple stood from that point on – not only then, but today. It is said that by Time’s will, no power exists that can damage the structure of the temple upon Jade Hill. It remains, forever, as it was when Belle perished.