- Joined
- Jan 28, 2009
- Messages
- 442
This is some stuff that I started writing here because I was bored. I will continue it occassionally.
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My eyes were lying, I thought, but my other senses proved them right. The gate had opened, olden granite rolling aside, welcoming us to some vast curtains of heavenly daylight, breathing new life into the old dunes. Freedom.
I thought about the long conversations we had had. I realized how it wasn't until now that I understood what the magi told me during our journey from the tomb chambers, about life, ressurections, and
[THIS PART HAS BURNED AWAY]
Those days, which changed my existence, now float in my farthest past. Yet, they still shine in my memory, clear and bright as the sun. Before things changed, reflections on my life were similar to staring at eternity, and those on my future were like spectating a requiem. I feel opposite today.
[THIS PART COULD NOT BE DECIPHERED]
We travelled four miles before we stopped by an oasis. The magi crouched in front of me. When he stood up and turned around, he was holding a handful of soil. Although I struggled against it, he forced the brown soil up close to my face. It had a fresh, natural scent that beat the tomb-like smell we both carried in our rags. The oasis moved beneath us as he spoke some words in a tongue unknown to me, shivering as in fear of my friend. This was a magic rite, he told me after tossing the soil over my head; a magick that would become useful for dealing with ferals in the Living Lands.
I let him teach me the magick, and after that, I buried him in the glowing, red sands, with a promise to wake him up when his knowledge were needed the most. It was time for me to venture deeper into the Living Lands with no apparent destiny. Perhaps the ferals would adopt me, perhaps I would prove myself worthy to the Council, and become a magi like Bahskul, my buried friend, or perhaps some greedy bastard would hunt me down, and kill me all over again. Not even a powerful god like [WRITING HAS VANISHED] can tell the future for those who live a life beyond the natural.
Here ends the second entry in some scrolls that I acquired for this work. The scrolls were found by explorers, in a grave along with the mummified body of King Skri'Amun himself. Unlike other scholars, I believe that these are not the words of Skri'Amun, but those of his lover, Hetzhun, also known as "the Lioness".
The first entry is missing, due to a fire, apparently, like many other parts of the scrolls. It is believed that the scrolls were burnt during an accident before the king was buried. Perhaps these are a clue to the death of Skri'Amun. Unfortunately, I cannot tell.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
My eyes were lying, I thought, but my other senses proved them right. The gate had opened, olden granite rolling aside, welcoming us to some vast curtains of heavenly daylight, breathing new life into the old dunes. Freedom.
I thought about the long conversations we had had. I realized how it wasn't until now that I understood what the magi told me during our journey from the tomb chambers, about life, ressurections, and
[THIS PART HAS BURNED AWAY]
Those days, which changed my existence, now float in my farthest past. Yet, they still shine in my memory, clear and bright as the sun. Before things changed, reflections on my life were similar to staring at eternity, and those on my future were like spectating a requiem. I feel opposite today.
[THIS PART COULD NOT BE DECIPHERED]
We travelled four miles before we stopped by an oasis. The magi crouched in front of me. When he stood up and turned around, he was holding a handful of soil. Although I struggled against it, he forced the brown soil up close to my face. It had a fresh, natural scent that beat the tomb-like smell we both carried in our rags. The oasis moved beneath us as he spoke some words in a tongue unknown to me, shivering as in fear of my friend. This was a magic rite, he told me after tossing the soil over my head; a magick that would become useful for dealing with ferals in the Living Lands.
I let him teach me the magick, and after that, I buried him in the glowing, red sands, with a promise to wake him up when his knowledge were needed the most. It was time for me to venture deeper into the Living Lands with no apparent destiny. Perhaps the ferals would adopt me, perhaps I would prove myself worthy to the Council, and become a magi like Bahskul, my buried friend, or perhaps some greedy bastard would hunt me down, and kill me all over again. Not even a powerful god like [WRITING HAS VANISHED] can tell the future for those who live a life beyond the natural.
Here ends the second entry in some scrolls that I acquired for this work. The scrolls were found by explorers, in a grave along with the mummified body of King Skri'Amun himself. Unlike other scholars, I believe that these are not the words of Skri'Amun, but those of his lover, Hetzhun, also known as "the Lioness".
The first entry is missing, due to a fire, apparently, like many other parts of the scrolls. It is believed that the scrolls were burnt during an accident before the king was buried. Perhaps these are a clue to the death of Skri'Amun. Unfortunately, I cannot tell.
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