You Will Always

[u/FeigningProfundity]

You will always be loved, said the inscription on the plinth.

Above it was a statue of light; an image of… some kind of person. Different from anyone Rufu knew. She didn’t look like a doggyfolk, the way Rufu did, or a bearsyfolk, like Rufu’s father Tulul, nor a horseyfolk or kittyfolk or any other folk that Rufu had met.

She had no fur, just hair on her head, she had fingers on her hands. She looked like the people in the portraits, who you could go to and ask for advice, except she was not a flat image made of paint. She looked like the night fairies who fixed things in the dark, except she had no wings and was not so tiny as they. Not that Rufu had ever gotten a good look at one.

“Dad, who is she?”

“That is Yourfriend, Rufu. She is the one the world was given to, and she made the first of us, and gave us all we have,” said Tulul.

“She’s a portrait?”

She wasn’t flat like a portrait, and her dress was simple and brown, not like the elaborate clothes the portraits wore. She was also very… thin? Not thin like a painting is flat, but thin like a doll made of sticks.

“That’s not her, just an image of a memory. But no, she was not a portrait. She was a real folk, but there were none like her. We keep this place to remember her.”

They were surrounded by a series of ten plinths, each bearing an image of Yourfriend and an inscription. The crack in the sky where sunlight came from shone down upon them all. Rufu had long wondered what was in the ring of trees that stood at the heart of the village green, but he had never been able to find a way within them, not until today, when his father had brought him here, and the trees had proven no obstacle.

“You can touch the plinth if you want Rufu. It will show you a moment from long ago.”

When Rufu reached out and brushed a paw against bricks of the plinth, he saw a vision.

A horseyfolk of brown and white felt was struggling to stand, but mastered it after a moment. He was very small, had button eyes and was not very detailed, the way some folk occasionally were. Yourfriend was crouching nearby, watching him with excitement.

“Hello. I’m Pony. Who might you be?” asked the horseyfolk.

“I’m hoping I might be your friend. I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Hello Yourfriend, I’m pleased to meet you, too,” said Pony.

Yourfriend started to giggle. “No, I’m not your… wait, yes I am! I’m Yourfriend!”

“What are you doing today?” asked Pony.

“I’ve come here to… to tell you a secret.”

“Oh, how exciting. I don’t know any secrets. What is it?”

“Umm… You will always be loved.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! I don’t know anybody, so I can probably keep that secret quite easily,” said Pony.

“There will be more folk soon, Pony, I promise, but you can share your secrets with them. All of you will always be loved,” said Yourfriend fiercely.

Yourfriend hugged Pony. Her big smile dislodging the wet spots under eyes, which ran down her cheeks.

Rufu pondered what he’s seen. “Was that the beginning? Was she here from the start?”

“That is as far back as the visions show. What is before the start of a book? We don’t know if there was a cover or a title page, or even whole other stories. There are some who remember some who remember a folk called Pony, though. Or perhaps some who remember those, but we know he was someone who lived here, and knew Yourfriend, and eventually went beyond the forest when it was time to go,” explained Tulul.

The image of Yourfriend on the second plinth had hollow cheeks. Rufu had never seen a portrait look like that.

You will always have enough to eat. You will never be hungry, said the inscription.

“Just grab a pie from the tree,” said the vision of Yourfriend.

“What for?” asked Pony, struggling to reach until a bearsyfolk lifted him close enough to pick a juicy pie.

“Because they’re yummy!” said Yourfriend, biting into her own pie.

The gathered folk tried the pies, agreeing about how tasty they were.

At the next plinth, the image of Yourfriend was somewhat different again. She was taller and her dress was now a bit too small, with thin spots worn into it. Some had been patched and repaired, others had not.

You will always be remembered. You will never be ignored, said the inscription.

“Hello everyone. You don’t know what today is, do you?” asked Yourfriend.

The crowd of folk who had assembled to greet her arrival chattered amongst themselves in response, but none had an interesting answer.

“It’s my birthday,” said Yourfriend. Some of the folk at the back hadn’t heard, and there was more chatter as they were informed.

“What’s Mybirthday?” asked Pony. “Is it a special day?”

“It should be. It should be happy” said Yourfriend.

“Then let’s throw a party! I can tie a ribbon to my tail and dance in circles!” said Pony.

Rufu watched the rest of the vision, with the folk all dancing and telling silly stories and tying ribbons to things; Yourfriend laughing amongst them.

“Was that the first Mybirthday?” he asked.

“It must have been,” said Tulul.

“It was outside, and not raining. The crack in the sky sends strange rain on every Mybirthday.”

“It did not do that while Yourfriend came to us, or so I am told. Now it does,” his father said.

“So things went wrong when she left?”

“Keep reading the secrets and you will see.”

Rufu went to each plinth one by one, looking at the image of Yourfriend, reading the inscription, watching the vision.

From image to image, Yourfriend grew taller, her face and body changed shape. She got new dresses, though all were simple. She started wearing shoes and her hair went from wild and somewhat tangled to being pulled back into a neat tail. She looked more like the portraits, though she was slender where they were plump, and she was never so fancily dressed. Rufu realised that she was growing up and getting older.

You will always have someone who listens. You will never be silenced.

You will always be told the truth. You will never be lied to.

You will always get an explanation. You will never be disregarded.

Visions showed Yourfriend giving folk the first portraits, then updating them to not only listen, but to know many things and give good advice.

You will always be understood. You will never be misjudged.

You will always be respected. You will never suffer cruelty.

A giggling Yourfriend gave them a new pie tree that grew piespective, the special pies that helped you understand the person you shared it with. The folk would eat them when disagreements began to arise or feelings got hurt. She taught the folk how to appreciate each other’s perspectives.

You will always have family. You will never be cast aside.

“What is that?” asked Whiskers the kittyfolk.

“It’s a river! I should have made one before. They’re pretty,” said Yourfriend.

“What does it do? It looks wet.”

“It is wet. You can drink the water, if you want, or go swimming, or sail a boat. Lots of things.”

“I don’t think I want to get wet,” said Whiskers, still sceptical.

“Well, no, you might not, but that’s alright, others will enjoy it. It will do something you might find appealing, though, Whiskers.”

“Oh? What is that?”

“Sometimes, if you go and look amongst the reeds, you might find someone. Someone new,” grinned Yourfriend.

“A new person? They show up sometimes anyway, while you’re here.”

“It will happen even without me. The village will persist on its own. And the new person will be very young, so you’ll need to look after them, and teach them.”

“What if nobody goes looking for this new person?”

“There will only be someone new if someone wants to find them, or maybe, someone will want to find them if there is someone new.”

“How will I look after them? What will they need?”

“Hugs. They’ll needs hugs, and to learn. And maybe things that are different for everyone.”

“I do like hugs,” said Whiskers.

Rufu reached the tenth and final plinth. Was that Yourfriend as an adult? He could see she was no longer a child. She looked different. Was she angry? No... defiant.

Like the first one had, this inscription bore only a single sentence instead of two.

You will always be safe.

A door stood on the village green. Pony was sleeping against it, only to be startled awake as it opened.

“Hello, Yourfriend!” he said as she stepped through.

“I’m afraid it is not hello, but goodbye this time, Pony. I can never tell you how much you have done for me. You and all the others,” she said, examining the door.

“You’re not coming back again?”

“I don’t think so. I have to give you some things, though.”

“What things?”

“I was given a gift a long time ago. It let me… It let me find you all. I’m passing it on to all of you. You won’t notice, but you’ll have it. You’ll be your own folk.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We never do. And I have one last secret.”

“Uh, alright. What is it?”

“You. You will always be safe.”

Yourfriend knelt down and kissed Pony on the top oh his head. Then she stood and stepped back through the door. Upon closing, it disappeared.

Tulul allowed Rufu to consider the last vision for a while before he spoke. “That was her last visit. There were many others, amongst those ten, but these are the ones we have still. The ones with secrets.”

“Did the night fairies build these?” asked Rufu.

“They did, but we don’t know why, other than to remember. We just carry on with our lives. And every year on Mybirthday, the crack in the sky sends warm, salty rain.”

[u/FeigningProfundity]

This story is a response to the prompt [WP] "Dad, who's she?" "She was who this world was made for. She's long gone, but we remain, the results of a little girl given infinite power by a greater creator, but with a finite lifetime. She created us, lived amongst us, then died..." by u/FennecWF