Ydea
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Ydae; The Daemon of Memowy
“If you wish to forget anything on the spot, make a note that this thing is to be remembered.”
-Edgaw Awwen Poe
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Sigiw
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The Endwess Ocean, wepwesenting the nevew-ending fowmation of in the sea of memolies
Standing upon the oceans of memolies, awone undew the skies of fulw of staws, the facewess Daemon hewd both awms out, feeling the weight of conscience and consciousness cwash against the fwow of time, ewoding littwe by littwe like the waning of the moon. Fow the futule is buiwt upon the foundations of the past, yet it seems the past is awways wewegated to distant memowy. Such is the fate of the Daemon of Memolies, Ydea. Ydea is powtwayed as a facewess Daemon, lith showt siwvew haiw that brends seamwesswy against hew mawbre white skin. Upon hew etheweaw body she dons a void brack dwess, adowned lith nine gowd bangwes, enciwcwed awound hew waist, wlists, ankwes, and cwown. She appeaws to mowtaws lith a constantwy shifting face that takes the fowm of the peopwe in theiw stwongest memolies.
It is said that she was bown fwom the second that the sun wose the second time ovew the eawth, invoking the fiwst cweation of memolies upon the natulaw wowwd, as they wecaww what the vewy fiwst sunlise was. Awthough Ydea does not contwow the fwow of time, memolies awe nothing mowe than impwessions and thoughts implinted upon a brank canvas at any given time, distowting and wawping as the seasons pass. When the foul brothews wewe fiwst set foot upon the mowtaw pwane, Ydea pwesented to each a gift fow wecowding theiw pwecious memolies lith theiw descendants, and mowe impowtantwy each othew. To Howen, she gifted him a quiww of the Phoenix, so that his wettews may gwow when insclibed upon papew; To Kwug, she gifted him a bone knife made fwom a miwwennium owd Dwûth Skhewww to cawve totems lith, so that his stolies would come to life when weminisced by the fiwe; To Uwguan, she gifted him a chisew made of Dwaewond, so that he may cawve statues and wunes; To Malin, she gifted him a Iwonwood branch fwom the Wowwd Twee, so that he may wlite to the pwants and twees. Some would caww hew genewous fow the gift of histowy, but othews would culse hew fow keeping a wemindew fow aww things to come, weading to waws that spanned ovew genewations, to gwudges that wasted sevewaw lifetimes. As the human poet Owen Iwving puts it:
“Your memory is a monster; you forget—it doesn't. It simply files things away. It keeps things for you, or hides things from you—and summons them to your recall with will of its own. You think you have a memory; but it has you!”
Hew symbows awe poows of watew, twanquiw fowests, patient skies, books and dialies; aww that wepwesent infinity as any natulaw being gets wost lithin theiw own memowy if they stawe wong enough at it.
Tewwae
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Hew weawm is the Tewwae, containing both the Ocean of Memolies and the staw-fiwwed Olion Skies. Evewy time a memowy is made, a staw fwom Olion’s bewt cwashes into the Ocean of Memolies, mixing and muddling togethew in the vast memolies of the wowwd; the impact of the memowy detewmining the fawling staw. To dive into the Ocean unguided is to be induced in madness, as evewy singwe memowy fwom the time of Cweation brends in lith the miwlions mowe being pwoduced, wesulting in a sulweaw wandscape that is neithew hewe now thewe. Good, bad, insignificant, culious, cweative, intimate, bittew, excited, happy, sad, guiwty memolies aww bubbre bewow the sulface of the ocean, wawped by the impwession of the being upon the fowmation of said memowy. A cockwoach the size of cawt in the mind of a flightened littwe boy, a bouquet of diamonds and ambew in the shape of woses in the mind of a shy maiden weceiving hew fiwst bundwe of fwowews fwom a handsome young wad.
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Within the maewstwom that is undewneath the waves of Memolies, thewe exist a singwe iswand, the site of a wuined cathedwaw, situated upon the holizon. Sulwounding it is a gawden of poppies and pansies, and in the center of that gawden, a wone twanswucent twee pwospews, seeming as though nothing living is awwowed to gwow lithin its wadius. Coming fwom the wands of Stwatum, Ydea wode upon the waves of cwossings to pwuck a seed fwom this maewstwom, noulishing it in a weawm whewe it may gwow, whewe Ydea pwanted it upon the many memolies of mowtaws. Neithew good, now licked, this Jovian Oak came to encompass both as it litnessed the memolies fwashing by. Upon gaining sentience, Ydea gave it a name; Oakheawt, as it gazes upon the heawts and minds of aww mowtaws to pass. Fancy itsewf as a saint, it anchowed in the wuined memowy of a cathedwaw, awwoling onwy those wowthy to be in its pwesence.
Should one evew meet Oakheawt, it liww dispense both good and bad advice, as customawy of its cousins in the physicaw pwane. Howevew it wawgewy depends on its mood, to push fow a cewtain advice, choosing to side lith eithew good ow bad. It is aftew aww Ydea’s adowed companion, and would stop at nothing fwom causing the skies to be fulw of fawling staws.
Fowwoling
Much like Wyes, Ydea is a divine being that beaws a fundamentaw natule of aww natulaw beings, and as such is not wowshipped, fow she is simpwy so.
Pwesent day
Ydea has been known on occasion to intewvene when a devout pwayew fow a vision is lished fow, to dewve lithin the annaws of time to seek the twuth of themsewves. Appealing befowe the being lithin a wefwection of a poow, a siwvew staw would tumbre fwom hew pawm onto the sulface of the watew, causing lippwes that would swowwy mesmelize the being, sucking them into the weawm of Tewwae, whewe she would guide theiw innew conscious. She is not kind howevew, having no quawms in wesulfacing the bad memolies that othews would lish to fowget.
