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Amulets Rage -
Chapter 1 memories
This is not of the
game but it has been inspired by it. There are more chapters but
for now there is this one. |
Author:
jens_stalder |
The Triennial year approached, the mountain did not flare. It
was upon an Island only known for a few years now, but that was
all they knew and a spectacular event was somehow forgotten. The
legend’s of a trained captain, the trials of waves and monsters,
starvation and loneliness, the unknown tests of trust and
belief, and human nature of hope. Were they all forgotten?
“Why does thou forget me, how does thou forget yours past,”
a voice was herd as of a whisper as a young boy stared upon the
waves, only to walk within more confusing mater. There as he was
only to wander in curiosity of the past explanation of his dear
father’s last words.
“Although it is not present in our people’s eyes, they know deep
within that there was a reason we were left here.”
The voice still remained within his mind.
“I strongly believe so, and there is non to overcome my mind,”
He was at about of the age of ten reaching onward towards a
lovely quiet life. His name was Aronos Glathor, barring the name
of his father as it has bin past by his. Within his major
curiosity he was never understood or even herd to. He continued
hearing those words from nowhere and started to grow onto them.
Although he thought that there must be another that would here
those words, he has never found one. After waiting but for a few
moments he returned home walking towards the quiet village.
Although it was upon the border of dusk peoples still roamed
upon the streets. The village never received a name, for it was
the only village known by its inhabitants. Its size did not
mater for it was to scattered about. The peoples seamed grumpy
as always. For would not you, reader, if you would not know your
past? Their daily affections of odd rumors bitterer them, and
the story’s of legends concerning of their past was long thought
short because of false accusations. Within a few minutes he
reached towards the door of a house in which he roamed. But
before opening he remembered the symbol upon the door. It was a
sword struck into the ground but only standing unbelievably
short to the tip. Twirling around the sword’s form, a snake was
seen twirling upwards until the head reached its hilt. The sword
was within the snake’s tale and it seamed trapped by its tip,
unable to move. One lonesome word was scribbled at the near
bottom expressing the letters TIRSIM. A word that he did not
understand, but he was to be one of the few who did later.
Without talking to his mother, sitting at the dinning room
table, he quietly moved up the stairs into his room. But before
entering his words sprang into the ears of his mother saying,
“Night ma!”
Unaware that those where her last words ever herd by her son.
For thus she never heard one again.
“Night Aronos, let your fathers death pas its mortal wound, and
let it not affect you.”
She answered and continued by whispering to herself,
“As I will join him.”
Within this day, hoping it would not, it tainted his life
completely. Confused he entered his room to rest. His father
slept in a dream never to wake up a year ago, thought as of age.
“Impossible,”
He thought and entered a dream dreadful and indescribable by any
means.
Within the dream there was much fire. Laughter was heard in
great amount. Making up the images, which were very unclear
within the beginning, He saw a village flaring in fire and
creatures fighting dreadfully against units. It was then when he
knew the laughter was indeed screams of innocent beings. The
creatures were killing innocent families and the legions had no
chance, for the enemy was in great amount. Stones of fire he saw
then from heaven and rage woke within them. There he saw a white
creature among them bright as the sun itself. They seamed
unaware of him and he followed a group of the legions, which
were as of fleeing. He could not be aware of the form this
creature possessed for it was too bright to determine. They
moved within a forest outside of the village. Then with great
disturbance he saw the group closer and with full of fright he
saw one with a mark upon his left arm and his eyes where burning
as of a fire unquenchable. And as he saw the sign closer it said
among it in a foreign language
”This is the keeper of rage, his meek spirit sets a shield among
all.”
He awoke. Within the next morning he found his mother dead.
Tragedy came upon him and he thought that his life now would not
prosper. Never had he the hart to tell, but instead kneeled
there upon her side where she was laying and quenched his last
tears out towards the meek mother which gave him hope. The day
passed and dear young Aronos still roamed next to her bed.
“Now I have gotten all the bad one could handle,”
He said,
“surely there is nothing worse to come.”
Sadly he decided to run and never return. He would never tell
the strategy he experienced, never. He ran towards the dirt
road, and ran along it not knowing where it would bring him.
Nothing had he taken, but only his close upon his back, as he
ran to the end of the trampled road past the woodchoppers’ place
and all life he ever knew. The workers of the woods where brave
men and would never pass the distance Aronos covered and yelled,
“Hey… boy, you’ll kill yourself get’n out there on yourself. I
wouldn’t even go out there with an army.”
For through history every person’s attempt to do so would never
return. And fear has gotten the people saying that the place far
beyond was cursed. Anyhow, he ran and ignored the wise
woodchoppers and continued. It was but a little ways in as he
became weary of the darkness that was surrounding him even in
the times of dawn. He halted and leaned unto a tree and began to
cry once more.
“Creatures come and destroy me!”
He yelled,
“I have no value and am lost. Come and eat me so that I would
not have to continue my life in such a misery, and mystery."
There as he stared for a few minutes he realized that he has
grown to this place. That he did not consider it as a lonely
dark place, but a beautiful, lovely place. All the sayings of
the peoples where wrong.
“This place is not cursed.”
He said to himself but rather found it as a meek blessed
location. But mystically a light grew about and it became
lighter and brighter. Then he saw a statue within a distance
where he saw the light, as it’s brightest.
“Who is there?”
he said hopelessly.
“Certainly it is not a creature of which I read, for you seam
warm and bright.”
As of fright the statue stopped and was as of looking towards
his direction. Then his brightness dimmed and he continued to
move closer towards dear Aronos.
“Bright?”
the creature asked,
“I am not that bright, in matter a fact I’m clothed in dark gray
rags.”
As he said that Aronos took a second look and indeed it was an
old man, as of a beggar, with ragged old rags upon his back.
“Tell me,”
The old man then said,
“what is a boy as young as you doing in a place like this?”
Aronos paused and did not move a muscle but the once of his eyes
following the beggar’s staff, which looked intimidating.
“Well?”
The man asked anew.
“Please old man don’t hurt me.”
Aronos responded,
“I have no meaning to be anyone’s burden.”
“Oh no, you wouldn’t be my dear. You are much to small to do
that. But I am still concerned of why you called my warm and
bright."
“Never mind that, I am loosing my thoughts.”
“Why would that be?”
The old man responded with his old mellow tone.
“Must you know?”
“No I mustn’t but the gear of knowing will consume me. Anyhow,
What is your name young fellow?”
“Aronos Glathor.”
He responded
“Aronos? Well you seam to have a greed of adventure.”
..............................(To be
continued)..............................
Are you interested?
If you are, take a visit to
www.the-amulets-rage.vze.com and read about Aronos'
father witch happens to have the same name.
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