Ohhhh no. I'm doing that thing guys. The thing where my brain flips on 110% and now I have an idea. Where I do this thing (this chapter, and like the eternity one) but a theme for all the hermits. And I know how to tie it in.

Good lord someone help.

Words: 927
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The world was a saddened place.

Many things had gone wrong and distressed. The world was devastated by its failure to bring life. And so, it slowly ridded itself of the issue. Soon enough, everything had gone quiet again. The trees thrived and the grass greened. But it was still quiet.

Lonely.

Isolated.

Bored.

Seldom.

I'll try again. It thought.

And in a small place, cast far, far away, in a tiny little place in a big wide world, a small swampy forest lay.

Here, there were droopy willow trees, ones that seemed to cry out and hung branches high, long vines dispelling from them to create a dome. The grass was rotted and mucky and no life lived there.

Aha. Was the thought. If I can succeed it the creation of a successor for here, then I have succeeded.

The trees seemed to hunch over more in their own gloom. It was just false hope. But hope still. The wind slowly blew through, taking the news and readying to gossip it to all the anything's with the ear to listen.

The world smiled though, a crevasse cracked into the shell to reveal bright lava. The gloomy trees swayed slightly, as an old process began.

A lovely hum filled the air as the grass swayed, parting itself into a circle. A small ball was given away, a small child sitting.

Vines slowly extended to meet it, curling through its' hair and over its face. The animal just sat there, taking it all in.

Finally, it reached out and wrapped its soft and chubby fingers around a stray vine. The vine curled around its' finger in return. The leaves were quickly yanked off the vines, and wails of pain could be heard.

Not the one.

The world quickly took the child back, trying again.

And again. Once then twice more.

And nothing, nothing worked. Decades and eons of work.

By now, hope was a fickle thing. The earth sighed as it tried for the final time. Not much energy was put into this, as there wasn't much energy to give. It just tried. Tried to make it work.

A small child began to look around, with big, blue, adorning eyes and reddish-brown hair.

This one was different. It held promise.

And, that promise did last. For awhile. Alas, once it hit the feeble age of sixteen, things began to fall downhill again. Greed, envy, and all the other flaws had shone through this promise-of-a-child.

And so, it went away. Like the rest. But the earth was happier. It had made something.

Though, it still failed as the basic humanly nature corrupted it.

Happiness and hope are different things though. All hope had been lost, while happiness in not failing was alive. And so, the earth tried again. And this wasn't in hope, it was happiness substituting for the hope.

A child, no more than three was sitting in the circle. It looked around with huge, round, hazel eyes and small bouncy curls. A warm glow filled its' cheeks as it was like the whole universe itself was giving apart to the child.

Something was different.

Something had to be different.

Standing only to teeter backwards, it landed in a mushy spot of deceased grass. The trees began to wail, knowing something as of like of this creature wouldn't stand it.

But it did.

It looked down and ran a hand through the water, tiny tadpoles that had never really been seen before coming to meet her fingertips. She giggled again and swished her fingers before cupping some water and sprinkling it on the grass. She smiles and the strands stood up straighter, some leaning up high in an attempt to touch the hope. The softly patted the tops before yawning.

The trees all reached out part of themselves to pick her up with their strands of leaves. Slowly, the child was enveloped into a bundle as the trees bent their vines into a protective circle around it.

Instead though, the child sat up and began to grab the leaves and sing to them. The trees swayed as miracles seemed to begin to happen.

Butterflies came from air and the trees brightened up from their depressingly damp and dark hues to the more lovely shades of dark greens and browns. The grass greened and the murk became water. Even the stars seemed to come out during the day to get a glimpse of it.

A miracle child, it seemed to be. Already, the world hasn't changed for it, but because of it.

The trees began to rock and sway and the northern and southern and west and east wind all blew in, swirling around and resting a small blue flower on the miracle child's face. It smiled as it began to sleep.

Stress. That would be it's name, in honor of not wanting to be jinxed, all how it almost seemed stressful now, considering how this child has gained so much hope from this world.

As she slept, the world smiled for itself. Everything seemed to love it, and it loved everything. The creature had just the softest touch, and radiated an aura of innocence.

Maybe.

Maybe this was the one.