The source was in all that made up 414 - the land, the people, the sun. All was made from it, and all returned to it in the end.
The end began with the seedlings. Bringing new life from the floral valley was something treasured, celebrated by all. Sometimes, the cycle may fail a seedling, proving a vessel but no soul within. The seedling would be left in the valley and watched over until a soul was ready. They would have faith in the source to grant the vessels what they needed, and often times it was just a case of waiting.
One day, the seedlings came, but not one has a soul with them. The ivlania waited and watched. One day turned to three days turned to a week. Seedling bodies, stillborn in the valley.
Then came the weakness and decay - the wilted phase began to show itself in the ivlania at progressively faster rates. They began to panic. They began to despair.
The Bouquet were overwhelmed and unsure of what to do, and tried to turn to the High Bloom for a solution. Even Agno couldn't provide an answer.
All ze knew was that the source had fallen silent, and had no way to talk to it.
Nature was beginning to lose its colour. So too were the ivlania. Where cities would be vibrant with colours and mirth and joy, now was filled with desaturated grays and sadness and desperation. They were lost, without guidance, and losing hope fast.
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