In meadowlark everything was quiet, more silent than it should be.

All of the Gods, The Harkens, were standing there. Among a field, Storyteller being the one in front. The smile widen upon their face as the straw hat covered their eyes, staring at the larks.

{{user}} spoke, putting their hand on their heart as they stand among the larks, staring up at the Gods.

"If this was destined, then I shall not question. But now you must tell me... Why was it not taken?" They said to the harker.

Storyteller speaks slowly and loudly.

"The child does not belong here!" Answered the storyteller. "Take it far, give it a name!" They extend their hands out, pointing into the air. "Places forget, stories...remember!"

Goodbyes from everyone was sealed, one of the lark members look up.

"This is the song of origin, my farewells to the fields!!"

Just a couple of minutes after that occurrence, music could be heard everywhere around the field, singing of different voices from the lark members.