Follow the series on Facebook! |
A Sacred Journey is coming in just a few short months and today we have a special surprise for you! We're releasing a FULL CHAPTER right here! Just scroll down and see what's coming this December!
CHAPTER LXXIX
YILAN BLEW THE DUST FROM the cover of his newly found
treasure and opened it with eager gentleness. It emanated a soft yellow glow,
exposing the cracks and scars on his leathery reptilian skin. A thousand
battles put them there before he ascended the throne as the last of the Laevis
kings and this book was going to cement his place in history as the greatest.
The ancient
runes glowed on the pages of the tome. They were written by Belock Cahliin in
the Sitxh Age before the fall of Koe. These were secret scriptures, written in
the ancient glyphs of Duth Ghellian and they held all the sacred knowledge of
the Sakriark and the power of Fengari. But the languages of the old world and
the past ages had gone dark long ago. No one could read the text.
Yilan
closed the book, quenching the amber glow, and hid it in his robes before he
exited the darkened room. The corridor was changed – damaged. The shockwave of
Toriwook’s descent had caused earthquakes all over Eirvah, but the extent of
the destruction was yet unclear.
Yilan’s
head began to ache. He struggled to see clearly as he approached the end of the
corridor. As he emerged, he saw that his Barrens had been laid waste and
nothing remained except the bubbles of Maldat, which floated curiously in its
stead. Thousands lie dead under rubble and fire burned all about.
Every
machine and piece of infernal technology had been destroyed and lay in
disrepair. Yilan’s head continued to throb. He looked at his hand. His vision
was blurry and he found it difficult to discern shapes and figures. But he could see the scales on his hands begin
to fall away from the flesh on his hands. Raw, sticky flesh was exposed beneath
and as a large chunk of scaly skin fell away, Yilan fell to the ground and bled
from his eyes, seizing and convulsing before he finally ceased and lay silent
and still.
It was
about that time that Shinri, a man with soft blond hair and a short, well kept
beard, came upon Yilan’s apparently lifeless form. He saw his master lying
still in the dirt and figured him dead until he noticed a subtle hint of breath
moving his ribs in and out.
Now Shinri
was clothed in a ragged cloak with thin trousers and no shoes. He was cut,
bruised and scarred all over his body and his face was a bit bloodied. He
looked down upon his master with pity and then he knelt.
From the
pouch on his waist, he pulled a vial of blue glass. It was shaped like a
droplet of water and had a silver wire embedded in it and a green liquid glowed
inside. He opened it and let a single droplet fall on Yilan’s head before he
closed it up, put back in his pouch and picked up his fallen master.
With
Yilan draped over his shoulder, Shinri began to walk to a shadowy shelter he’d
fashioned for himself. And there he laid his master and covered him with a rag and
he tried to dry up the blood from Yilan’s face.
Shinri
was a young man – twenty-nine years old – when Toriwook fell on Eirvah. He had
been a soldier of the Laevis Corps for the better half of his life, having
pledged himself at the age of fifteen. But things were different now. The
compound and headquarters known as Yilan’s Barrens had been destroyed by the
quakes brought on by the fall of Toriwook. And as far as Shinri knew, he and
Yilan may be the only survivors of their order.
He
left his master in the shelter and went out searching for goods and supplies to
keep them through the next few days. He was a good man, but misguided by the
deception of Fengari.
Now
it was first light of morning and the sky was red as Shinri came across a ring
of gold with spiral patterns etched in it and around. And in its sockets he saw
ten gems of glowing fiery red. And the ring was very beautiful to him, so he
picked it up. He’d never seen such a thing in all his days, but there it was on
the ground.
So
he picked it up and slid it onto the index finger of his left hand. Immediately
he knew its power. Through his veins he could feel it. And almost
instinctively, he held out his hand and the shadows in front of him gathered
together in one place. And then they dispersed. This was one of the five
Eidolons, the Ring of Bjirgen. He had heard tales of this relic as a small
child. And now the power of day-bending lie in his hands.
But
the five Eidolons do not yield their power to just anyone, and though they may
be wielded by all who possess them, they cannot be mastered. And Shinri was not
the master of the Ring of Bjirgen and he would soon know the weight of holding
one of the five Eidolons. But first, it would use him.
Shinri
gazed at his hand, proud of his new treasure and mesmerized by its charm and
the power it promised. And so Shinri returned to Yilan and sat there in the
cover of shadows, but he did not reveal the ring to him nor did he even bother
to rouse or awaken his master. He only stared at his prize.
And
Shinri pondered all the ways that he might rule over the lands of Eirvah now
that the calamity had fallen. He reckoned himself a hero with a gift from the
gods. Shinri was descended from the ancient people of Koe and maintained their
pagan beliefs even to the seventh age. And Shinri smiled.
Now
it was midday and the sky was still red and Yilan awoke from his slumber. And
his face looked as though it had been scourged with fire and burned. And in
most of the spots where scales had been were now pale blue patches of burned
skin as the skin of a man. And Yilan was weak.
And
Yilan’s eyes became clearer that he could see and he looked at Shinri, who was
still studying the ring he’d found in the rubble. And Yilan spoke with Shinri.
“Who
are you?” asked he with a voice that sounded quite different from the deep
gravel that he usually sported.
“My
name is Shinri, Sire,” said the man as he stood to his feet and slid the Ring
of Bjirgen into his pocket.
“Are
you all that remains then?” Yilan pulled himself up and to his feet. His robes
were covered in dirt and dust. He brushed it off the best he could.
“So
far as I can tell,” Shinri replied. “I am.”
“We
will go to Murwook,” Yilan said, his voice softer now than before. “Gather what
supplies you may need for the journey. It will take us three days by foot.”
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.