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The Death Of Yggdrasil

Okay so I know is not very good, I wrote this in about 2 hours around 3 o’clock in the morning one night I couldn’t sleep, maybe there are some salvageable idea’s here, maybe not, I dunno, criticism welcome I suppose.

Eons past the ages of the last and first men, when the universe and all its planes linger on the precipice of recession and the facets of reality at last collapse into their infinite declining circle, as the last lingering starlight from the final crimson dwarfs fades, giving rise to the darkness behind the stars. A monument of ancient esoteric stone drifting frozen through the silent void awakens. Stirring in the most ancient of depths within these walls of incalculable age emanates a signal, a sign from primordial eons long forgotten and long dormant in the cold depths of the cosmos it’s signal is intertwined with the remaining fibers of reality permeating the very skin of space-time itself.

Rooting itself in the fast evaporating pool of existence its pulsating energies stand as a stark contrast to a universe on the edge of heat death, a reality on teetering on the ledge of complete and universal order, calling any residual sentience to it in a final act of desperation, the first and last source of concentrated energy in the universe, the last drop of chaos.

Eventually, after many more millenia, the final vestiges of sentient life writhe their way to the now cracking eldritch stone the survivors dub the “Rag na’ ”, or “futures past” in the tongue of the last sapiens. They arrive to a scene of ancient desolation, a dull ebon rock lifeless but for the faint glow of a colour beyond violet perceptible only by the bulging unblinking eyes of the  creatures long adapted to life in the darkening void.

Despite the dead nature of crystalline rock it appears as a mirage would to the desperate and  dehydrated in the depths of a desert, and the elders of reality remain there, for a while, resting their dilapidated transports in the crevices of large runic caverns carved imperceptibly long ago by being’s far mightier for comprehension at the end of days, most do not even try.

Star after star become silent as the circle of existence closes, even those species evolution dictated are  able to perceive lightwaves as sound find that their world falls silent. And as the final star perceivable flickers out of existence the Rag na’ Rok trembles, thinking it is the final end the final designs of a dying reality descend into panic, as the prismic stone parts along the ridges of indecipherable inscription the worthy seek refuge within, hoping to discover the source of the stones faint heat and live out their last days within. What they find is yet another void, inside the previously uncrackable vault of their hopes they find a hollow earth, as empty and desolate as the void outside, the disheartened collapse and pray to their presumed dead gods, only the truly desperate push on, convincing themselves their world might yet be saved by some unknown miracle. And as the faint violet glow at last subsides, the void outside finally grows dim and cold and the end of Yggdrasil enters its final days.

While the visage of life was finally extinguished, and the universe finally collapsed into a singularity, centered on the last fragments of ebon rocks, the concentration of energy in a single instance exploded outwards with massive force, every instant of a new reality expanding equidistantly away from each other, threading a new world thread throughout the cosmos. And inside the first and last structure they awoke from their dreamless sleep and gazed upon a universe on fire. The youngest and eldest races of Yggdrasil borne again into the Gildergleam, the world sapling.