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I don't remember much, because in this life I was... broken, and had lived a short life. I will say what I do remember, both of this proud civilization, and my own life.
Simply put, the Herod are winged elves, almost angelic with lithe bodies and beautiful skin, though the hair color wasn't limited to gold, but white-blonde and black and red and brown as well. The wings came in different colors as well, normally appropriate to the hair color. Most common though was black hair with black wings.
The most outstanding quality of the Herod are the Heartsongs. Every Herod had two sets of vocal chords- one voluntary for speech, the other purely involuntary, constantly singing without words their emotions and feelings in the most pure and honest way, from the moment they were born to the moment they drew their last breath. The Heartsongs defy description in any language, they were so beautiful and pure. I know there are many who would consider this such a racket to never have a moment of silence, difficult to live with. I, even in this life time, miss it with a passion. I have ever since I was little, before I even knew of the Herod or even about reincarnation.
Every Herod must show competency and a certain amount of maturity by their 7th or 10th cycle (I can't remember which) in order to have the privilege of flight. If they don't, the wings are clipped in such a way as to permanently keep them from growing back.
There was a king that every Herod, young and old, weak and strong, proud and humble, was loyal to and would follow to the end of the universe if they must without question. They were a warring race, protectors of weaker races, but still treasured peace, if that makes sense. The king had a council, who were pure and good for many cycles. There was a goddess who was truly a goddess, but spoke with us directly. She could be cruel and demanding at times, but there was always a reason behind it.
The counsel somehow, at some point, became... corrupt. It's very difficult for a Herod to lie, because of the Heartsong constantly and openly advertising our emotions, but it wasn't impossible. In the king's old age, he became weak in body and mind, and the counsel took advantage of this, manipulating him, sending our warriors to battles they had no business in. The young prince tried to speak up against them, but it wasn't until his father passed away, and every Herod mourned, that he was finally able to find a voice. A power struggle ensued, and civil war broke out despite the prince's best efforts to keep it from happening. So many lives lost....
I remember one scene that has constantly haunted me. It was an open field, the sun shining bright... with hundreds of Herod impaled on spikes, their wings ripped right out of their sockets, some still alive. I had asked my father of it, since he was a very well respected and well known warrior who knew many things having to do with warfare, and his first question was how I had seen it. You see, I was never allowed to leave my home, for my own safety. I explained how a window had opened up, and showed it to me. He told me it was from a war long before my time with an enemy that nearly destroyed us, but I have an inkling that it was from the civil war. Who better to know how to best torture a Herod than another Herod?
Eventually the prince won and the counsel members were sent into exile, though there was a handful of Herod that chose to go with them, for what purpose I simply can't say. New counsel members were chosen. My dad was asked to be among them, but respectfully declined, only wanting the life of the warrior. Things finally settled down, easing back to the way it used to be when our king was strong and right and true. I don't know much beyond that, except that the World Breaker came. The details are lost on me since I had already passed away at this time, but he nearly destroyed the empire, as he had so many others. Nothing could be done to stop him, until the goddess contained him. He is still imprisoned to this day, but not before the planet was destroyed.
As for me, I was imperfect. My mind was believed to be broken, and I only had a small taste of the freedom of the skies before the privilege of my wings were stripped from me on my 6th cycle after I had attacked my older brother. I was... delusional, seeing threats that weren't really there, supposedly. Clipping my wings was supposed to be a way to protect me, so my parents could better keep an eye on me. I had times of calm, when everything seemed normal... even me. The bracelet though that kept track of me... and clipping my wings... sent me over the edge, in a way. I was even willing to saw my own hand off in a desperate attempt to free myself, but my father caught me before I lost too much blood. I should have been incarcerated, but my parents fought tooth and nail to keep me, and since my father was such a respected warrior, they finally honored his wishes. I... I know though that I was no contributor to the Herod society. I was too much a risk to be in social situations, and so could never have a life-mate or children. I was more or less isolated from the world. Then, one day, an uncle or older cousin, I can't remember which, came to me and said he would take me away and teach me how to fly again and show me what "real" love was. So of course, I let him fly me away, to a small patch of woods. There, he raped me, and killed me with blows to my chest. I still get phantom pains from that. My father found my body soon after, just a little too late, and never knew who had done it.
I wish... I wish my kin had known the truth of what was "wrong" with me. I wasn't crazy. What was wrong was that I had been able to see beyond the veil. If this had been known, and I had been trained to separate the two in day-to-day life, I could have been more than a functional addition to society. I don't have any regrets or hold any grudges. The Herod were a proud race, but they weren't perfect. There are times though when I miss the Heartsong so much, and the yearning to take flight has never left me, at times enough to make my heart ache.
Simply put, the Herod are winged elves, almost angelic with lithe bodies and beautiful skin, though the hair color wasn't limited to gold, but white-blonde and black and red and brown as well. The wings came in different colors as well, normally appropriate to the hair color. Most common though was black hair with black wings.
The most outstanding quality of the Herod are the Heartsongs. Every Herod had two sets of vocal chords- one voluntary for speech, the other purely involuntary, constantly singing without words their emotions and feelings in the most pure and honest way, from the moment they were born to the moment they drew their last breath. The Heartsongs defy description in any language, they were so beautiful and pure. I know there are many who would consider this such a racket to never have a moment of silence, difficult to live with. I, even in this life time, miss it with a passion. I have ever since I was little, before I even knew of the Herod or even about reincarnation.
Every Herod must show competency and a certain amount of maturity by their 7th or 10th cycle (I can't remember which) in order to have the privilege of flight. If they don't, the wings are clipped in such a way as to permanently keep them from growing back.
There was a king that every Herod, young and old, weak and strong, proud and humble, was loyal to and would follow to the end of the universe if they must without question. They were a warring race, protectors of weaker races, but still treasured peace, if that makes sense. The king had a council, who were pure and good for many cycles. There was a goddess who was truly a goddess, but spoke with us directly. She could be cruel and demanding at times, but there was always a reason behind it.
The counsel somehow, at some point, became... corrupt. It's very difficult for a Herod to lie, because of the Heartsong constantly and openly advertising our emotions, but it wasn't impossible. In the king's old age, he became weak in body and mind, and the counsel took advantage of this, manipulating him, sending our warriors to battles they had no business in. The young prince tried to speak up against them, but it wasn't until his father passed away, and every Herod mourned, that he was finally able to find a voice. A power struggle ensued, and civil war broke out despite the prince's best efforts to keep it from happening. So many lives lost....
I remember one scene that has constantly haunted me. It was an open field, the sun shining bright... with hundreds of Herod impaled on spikes, their wings ripped right out of their sockets, some still alive. I had asked my father of it, since he was a very well respected and well known warrior who knew many things having to do with warfare, and his first question was how I had seen it. You see, I was never allowed to leave my home, for my own safety. I explained how a window had opened up, and showed it to me. He told me it was from a war long before my time with an enemy that nearly destroyed us, but I have an inkling that it was from the civil war. Who better to know how to best torture a Herod than another Herod?
Eventually the prince won and the counsel members were sent into exile, though there was a handful of Herod that chose to go with them, for what purpose I simply can't say. New counsel members were chosen. My dad was asked to be among them, but respectfully declined, only wanting the life of the warrior. Things finally settled down, easing back to the way it used to be when our king was strong and right and true. I don't know much beyond that, except that the World Breaker came. The details are lost on me since I had already passed away at this time, but he nearly destroyed the empire, as he had so many others. Nothing could be done to stop him, until the goddess contained him. He is still imprisoned to this day, but not before the planet was destroyed.
As for me, I was imperfect. My mind was believed to be broken, and I only had a small taste of the freedom of the skies before the privilege of my wings were stripped from me on my 6th cycle after I had attacked my older brother. I was... delusional, seeing threats that weren't really there, supposedly. Clipping my wings was supposed to be a way to protect me, so my parents could better keep an eye on me. I had times of calm, when everything seemed normal... even me. The bracelet though that kept track of me... and clipping my wings... sent me over the edge, in a way. I was even willing to saw my own hand off in a desperate attempt to free myself, but my father caught me before I lost too much blood. I should have been incarcerated, but my parents fought tooth and nail to keep me, and since my father was such a respected warrior, they finally honored his wishes. I... I know though that I was no contributor to the Herod society. I was too much a risk to be in social situations, and so could never have a life-mate or children. I was more or less isolated from the world. Then, one day, an uncle or older cousin, I can't remember which, came to me and said he would take me away and teach me how to fly again and show me what "real" love was. So of course, I let him fly me away, to a small patch of woods. There, he raped me, and killed me with blows to my chest. I still get phantom pains from that. My father found my body soon after, just a little too late, and never knew who had done it.
I wish... I wish my kin had known the truth of what was "wrong" with me. I wasn't crazy. What was wrong was that I had been able to see beyond the veil. If this had been known, and I had been trained to separate the two in day-to-day life, I could have been more than a functional addition to society. I don't have any regrets or hold any grudges. The Herod were a proud race, but they weren't perfect. There are times though when I miss the Heartsong so much, and the yearning to take flight has never left me, at times enough to make my heart ache.