Looking for a God Among the Faithless

By the time that Timmion and Ayaian had acceded to the throne, the Centran Empire was one of the largest in power on the continent.  This power did not come from land, or numbers, but through money and influence.  Rare luxuries were what the country specialized in.  Spices, silks and a seemingly endless supply of rare jewels were their main exports.  More importantly, however, the Centrans (especially their leader who was called the Yuven) were referred to politically.  Few people remember why their neighbors viewed the Centrans as peacekeepers, or respected their opinion on political matters.  It was just something that was, and had always seemed to be.

In the time of Timmion, a few historians still concerned themselves with how the Centran Empire came to be created.  Only one or two had an interest in how the Centran people came to be different from their neighbors.  Most people didn’t care why every Centran was born with the potential to be a mage.  They didn’t care, as long as it continued to hold true.  The Centran people just accepted it as they accepted the fact that good spirits were blue and the Yuvens were god-sent. 

Even outsiders knew and accepted these facts.

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By the time that Elandie and Davin were murdered, the Centran empire no longer existed, and its people were spread out thin among the other countries.  Most survived from their knowledge of how to make fine silks and from their skills as craftsmen and cooks.  None entered politics, because they had no country to represent.  The opinion of a Centran still held some weight as the voice of reason, but mostly they were viewed as artifacts.  The Centrans had faded into history and legend.  Some didn’t even know they had ever existed.

In the time of Elandie, the Centrans had even grown ignorant of their heritage.  Some remembered days of finer glory, but most remembered the wars that had swept through the country.  Some spoke of uniting again.  A few even gathered around Elandie until her death.  Most however, created new lives, in new countries, and forgot about magic, spirits and the Yuvens.

Even the outsiders had forgotten what they had known of these things.

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By the time I met Dakar, he was seventeen, or there about, and already a bitter young man.  No one was ever really certain on his age.  I don’t even think he knew for certain.  But most agreed that seventeen was about right.  He didn’t care very much either way.  Often he would lie about his age, to what ever fit his purpose.  He was one of the few Centrans that had enough pure blood in him to be immortal.  What was age to him?

The reason no one knew how old he was was because all those that had been present at his birth were now dead.  It was an old Centran tradition that a time of birth was only recoded by those present.  Something held over from the time when all Centrans had enough magic in them to live as long as they pleased. 

The other reason no one knew for certain how old he was, was because from about the age of four to two years ago, we had lost him.

In the time of Timmion, such a thing would have been considered impossible.  How could one lose the Yuven?  Things have changed slightly from that time, and now it was a very easy thing to do.

Magic has grown weak in us.

We have grown complacent.

And the Yuven did not wish to be found.

The last is merely my theory, but the more I grow to know this young man, the last descendent of the semi-gods that lead our people, the more I find he is irresponsible and selfish.  I don’t think he wanted to be Yuven, because he knew how much we needed him.