Ororo Borealis Translation

“As usual, I begin my day with my death. I, uh, I'm gonna die of cringe while recording this. You-"

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Y͕̦̖̼̻͖̹̞̮͚̱̭̪̎̂̄͊̏͐ͨͫ̊̈́͑͊̃ͣ̾̈́̿̀̕͝͞͡õ̬̙̫͔̠̝̲̋́̂ͯ̇ͧ̈́̇ͧ͢ư̢̺̻̫̱͊͋ͣ̎͑̍́ͬ̾̈͋͗̀ͮ͛͗ͥ͋ͪ́̕͝ ̸̨͓͈͖͚̰̗̩̺̼̄̈́ͪ̾̏̉ͬͩͫ̂̆ͯ̔̀̏͐ͦ̒ŵ̷̡̭͍̻̣͈̲̫̠͎̠̥̤̘̯͕̬̩͋̈́ͪ̾ͨ̇ͨ̉̈́ͫ̾̐͋͗͜a̶̢̱̻̼̫͌ͪ̋̄̌̀̽ͮ̆̍̈́̑̑̏͛͝n̸̷͔̲͚̦̘̘̺̻̪̳̞̼͕͚̹͕͍̉͗ͦ͂̋̒͐ͪͣ͐̉ͪͬ̊͐̑́͡ͅt̴̡̮̹͇̬̥͕̟̳̳̘͈͙͍̦̪͉̳͉ͮ̑͒ͩͫ̈ͥ̅ͪ̇ͯͬ̕͘e̸̩͎̫̬͇̘͎̖̣̟̪ͫ̈̌̋͑ͯ̎͟͡d̶̨͉͇͖̠͉̮̹̝̃͒ͯͨ̋̿ͫͨ̓́ ̨ͤ̅̀ͯ̅̎̔͛̏҉͏̩̙̦̖͇̝̼͕̜̖̞̼̳̬͉͖̤̝́͞ͅm̑́ͨ̔̇̓͗ͮ̀̀͡͠͏̤̗̠̥̰͍̦̤̺͎̻ͅe̷̛͔͇͓͚͕̳̓̆̈ͥ͐̂̅̆͛̏͌̚͘͞.̨̩͖̺̬͈̱͙̫̭̥̗̞̲̠͈̉ͧ́ͪ̃͊̒̉͂ͩ̓̚͘͡.̷̧̬̫̩͕̺̳̻̦ͣ͋̋ͬ̀̽ͬ͌ͬ͒ͬ͐ͯ́͟͝.͎̗͕̺̹̬͓̬͔̬͖̻̘̟͍͇͆ͦͪ̚͜.̡̼̯̥̖̙͔͎̱̤͈̉̌̎̑̿̾̃ͮ͊͑̄ͨ̍̑͂ͬ̿̏̕̕͠͡ ̸̴̛͈͇̲̖̙͇̞͙̝̰͔͖̹̪͍̝̰̥̊͋ͮ̆̃͞w̧̛̟̞̫̰̘̭͓̜̺͖̦̺̺͔̯͔̠̣̼̓ͦ̂̀̾ͤ̂̊̇̋̈́̊̐̽̆̄́͝e̷͆́̏͛̍̈̒̂͊ͫͬ̔̔͗̃̃ͪ͏͇̣̙͕̜͍̲̟̬l̈́ͫͣ̈́͜͏̣̺̜̼͓̲̦̭̥̠̭̞̪̳ͅļ̷ͤ̾̇̇̇ͥ̓̄̋̔̈́̉҉̨̙̺̥̳̖̱̗̱͚̪̰̦̹̦̦̯̗́ ̢̼̼̪͈̠̯̹͚̃̂̽ͨ̄̅̓̀̿ͤ̉ͯ̈̇͂̚̕͞hͨ̈͊͊̃ͮ̆ͤ̊̈ͩ̅͏́͏̸̺̦͙̪̥̪͙̟̼̝̳̝͚̠̭̺͉ę̸̧͖̜̘̼̘ͦ̊ͬ̀̇͐ͫ̐͛ͥͯͫ̂ͤ͛̄͑̔̒͢ř̷̬̜͙̲̏̓͗͊e̛̹̘̭̼̥̺̥̦͕̣̹̰̩͈ͨ̇ͭ͒͋̐͊ͨ͋̅̋͆͢ ̴̣̙̭̙̐ͧ̑͆ͨ͟ͅI̵̵̷̟̺̘̭̯͕͇̓͑̆̑̀̽̎͠ͅ ̸̜̟͍̝̥̜̝̮͇̘̞̞̟̞̦̯̝̿͌̿͒̓ͭ̌͐ͫ͌̈̓̓̀͘͡͝a̞͎̳̬̬͔͔͉͎ͪ̈́̎̍ͥ̽̋͒ͥ̄͆́̚͜͞m̷̶̷̸̥̠̱̖̥͈̘̦͉̠͖̳͑̈ͤ̅̔̂

"I don't know what's wrong with me. I bleed, like a human. I shapeshift like a Jinn. My arms and legs, however, are made of metal and lightning. Normal traits for my species. Yet I, uh, talk sometimes and my sentences don't connect. I'm not trying to be vague, I just can't focus on anything. Or maybe there's too much focus? Even now as I speak, I am breaking open the machinations of my robotic assassin, knowing full well what the crass technology is inside this abomination. After all, I did help invent it. And now I can no longer sit still, I need to walk around despite the lack of a need to.

Perhaps I should stop recording these memoirs. I’m never going to see them and quite frankly, my powers may seem dull. What use is a shield that can block blunt attacks but not sharp ones? Still, I suppose even humans could use my skills. For you, my followers, I give you a tip; you cannot consume a Fruit without strengthening the body first. For if you do, you shall-”

End of recording 69,

Millions of years later, on a planet unknown to most

The Heaven System, Earth, 1510 A.D

What an unusually uninteresting man you choose to research, Qasim. I hope you know Adam will be seeing this too. The notes say he dies today so I’m going to make some modifications to the timeline, maybe some sci-fi so that he can live longer. They should occur by tomorrow.

Yeah, yeah, fire up the machine Doc. Do some narration too.

Sure.

‘The sun began to rise over the city of Mecca, Saudi Arabia. Misaq Sher Shah Khuladeen awoke from his slumber. Misaq was a fat, large man who wore rather simple clothes. He wore the traditional Salwar Kameez, basically formal clothing with pajamas and thick leather boots. He slept naked so he changed into said clothes upon getting up from bed. As per their daily routine, he went into his bathroom and began draining water from the pond into buckets. Misaq was occasionally called Lion, a mockery of his name. Carefully, Lion put the already heated water, on account of being in a desert, on top of himself and began to wash away his impurities as per the rules of Wudu (Ablution). Lion then put his Janamaz (praying mat) on the floor and offered the Fajr (first) prayer to maintain his faith. Lion, however, had a problem.

His faith was lacking. He believed he was just lazy, reading the Namaz from a chair while being perfectly capable of standing and had slept with a woman before marriage.’

Prostitution is a pretty old job

I’m not going to comment. Now shush, I need to finish reading these notes.

‘ Upon finishing his prayer, Misaq began drinking and eating his breakfast which consisted of two eggs fried out in the desert sand, roast goose from Egypt, and a special type of wheat from Greece. The Arabian Peninsula was a hub of trade, being a country that is directly between Asia, Africano, and Europa. There were different trade policies, depending on current ties but the Lion was not averse to trading, he merely did not look beyond his own home. The Mamluks, slave soldiers, have been in power for quite some time. He inwardly sighed. It was obvious how it had happened; the previous Dynasty had put most of its problems onto the slaves. They had begun solving the problems quickly and efficiently. Their rate of progress caused them to earn the goodwill of the people as well as put pressure on their oppressors. Eventually, they took over with but a few words to the right people. Then, to enforce their will, they just recreated the problems. It was easy, they and the scholars were the only ones who could tell that something was wrong. So politics suddenly became a factor in a place where religion seemed to decide everything. Maybe it was the other way around. It mattered not. The Mamluks, for all their complexities, assassins, and plotting, had been in power for decades. The scholars would be fine, so long as they didn’t breathe a word of protest.

Clamping his mouth shut, Misaq went out to meet the gathering sandstorm. He put on his protective gear and saddled his camel, Al Fahl. Would he be able to come up with a better name than procreation? He put his bag containing his books on the mighty steed with 2 closed buckets of water and set out towards the main base of the city. Misa's house was a bit far away from most civilized areas so he decided to pack some fruit for the journey. He stopped by a local vendor and an old friend, Ali bin Rehman. The two spoke in a mix of old age English and Arabic.

“Misaq, how are things?” spoke Ali to Misaq

“Say the words, please” sighed Misaq.

“What? Oh right. Forgive me, I am a recent convert. Assalam o Alaikum.” Replied Misaq.

“I don’t have a problem with it, you should just develop a habit of saying so, in case the people who deal exclusively in Arabic happen to come along. Anyways, Wa alaykumu s-salam.” Said Misaq.

“What will it be this time? I got pomegranates, figs, dates, lentils, grapes, and peaches.”

“Give me the watermelon.”

“Are you sure? I’m not certain how the others would react to you eating a melon during an intense scientific debate.”

“Let me worry about that. Got any coffee?”

“Not for you, those people from across the seas pay well for it. Anything else?”

“No."

“Well, try to avoid the Inward Trails. Some odd bumps have been found and I’m worried it might be quicksand.”

“That’s not going to be a problem. Farewell, uh I mean, Allah Hafiz.”

“Allah Hafiz.”

Misaq stuffed the melon into his back and started heading towards the Inward trails. The trails were so-called because they were formed around strange rocky hills whose tops seemed to curve, pointing towards something. Common superstition stated it must be the work of Jinn. Perhaps a prank of sorts. At any rate, Misaq made his way there.

One hour later, Misaq was passing along the center of the trail when he heard shouting ahead. He tied Al Fahl to a nearby rock formation and made his way forward, into a path adorned with tall rocks, thorns, and old grass. He peeked forward.’

I think I’ll stop now, my throat is getting tired. At any rate, this is where all the gore in the diary comes from. You handle this, then we’ll let Adam on board see his memories.

Affirmative’

In front of him was a horrid sight but nothing too unusual. A trader must have put his wares there and decided to bring his family along.

Mistake.

His head had been separated from his body with a single swipe of an ax if the bandit standing around with a massive one was any indication. Six bandits in total, all wearing red armor and black turbans. The color was just for intimidation. It was working. As expected, the trader must have tried to save the wife and kids, resulting in his death and their slavery, if the cage full of empty eyes was anything to go by. They were tied up and gagged. They looked weak but the Ottomans paid well for slaves. They needed soldiers for their upcoming conquests and those soldiers wanted slaves to take care of their duties. Sometimes formal, mostly informal. The Mamluks weren’t much better. Sure, they openly condemned taking weak slaves, only because they would weaken the system. Or so Misaq had been taught.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Something was unusual about these slaves. Normally, Misaq would have left immediately, he was a merchant, not a fighter. But his head clouded with a vision, of someone changing into a bird. He shook his head.

Ever since childhood, he'd always dream vividly yet without description. He would describe a world of dreams and nightmares. However, when it came to writing it down, he just didn't have the talent for being an author. Writing requires prose to keep people interested and he was sadly lacking in it. Still, practice made perfect so he would write dreams down into his diary.

Still, Misaq's gaze lingered. A lifetime ago, he would have fought. Now he knows better. Unfortunately, so did a man ahead.

One of the bandits stopped talking and looked at him, dead in the eyes before uttering the word “Hukum!” and his colleagues rushed into action, picking up their weapons from the floor. Misaq immediately grabbed for a knife that wasn’t there and realizing his predicament, panicked and ran directly opposite his attackers, rather than take the route he once came from.

Misaq ran about 6 feet before taking an arrow to the butt. The wood crushed his skin and imbedded itself in the flesh. The butt is one of the hardest parts of the body, making it possible for Misaq to keep running. Unfortunately, his pain tolerance was quite low due to past events. He wailed about in agony and accidentally sat down at the arrow, breaking off its tip and causing it to slide off his skin. Good arrow sleekly made. The bandits quickly caught up to him.

“Let’s go, you sons of-“. Misaq never finished his sentence as the big bandit stood him up and the other two started beating him. One of them punched his nose, causing it to bleed, and the other started executing a series of one-two’s all around his torso while the big one squeezed his arms. After what seemed like an eternity, it had only been a minute, and they stopped. Misaq had immediately gone from a foolish traveler to a beaten, broken, bloody mess of a man. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he really should have taken Ali’s advice. His eyes were alright but his lower face was covered in blood, his clothes were tattered, there were scratch marks everywhere, his skin was torn in numerous places, and was in agony in his arms.

The fourth bandit arrived, the one who had shot the arrow. He took off his Turban. No, her turban. She spoke in a rather harsh voice with a pale white face. Of all the languages Misaq could learn, he had never bothered to learn of the trading empires of the north. Perhaps she was not from there but his thoughts were everywhere.

The woman began arguing with the big man, pointing at him and making strange symbols in her hands. They looked like a cup and something being put into that cup.

Why are they considering drowning me? Thought Misaq

The big man grumbled and just made his 2 fists come together.

The one who beat Misaq so thoroughly spoke out, making pushing signs with his hand, followed by a smack.

The two stared at him in shock. Must be a subordinate speaking back to his elder. All in all, Misaq was glad their attention was elsewhere or they would have noticed something poking out of Misaq’s pants.

The final bandit seemingly decided for everyone. He jogged towards Misaq, drew out his curved sword, and hit Misaq on the back of the head with it, giving him a concussion. Having solved the problems, the group stole Misaq’s belongings, and his camel, packed up the slaves, and moved out, leaving him to either die of suffocation or heat stroke.

Misaq awoke to the sounds of a whirlwind gathering in the distance. He attempted to stand but the pain in his arms forced him to reconsider. He couldn’t tell how long it had been, perhaps a day or two, perhaps barely a minute, as the sun had barely changed. Yet, today Allah would not favor him any more than he favored anyone. There was a saying amongst his tribe that after that Muhammad P.B.U.H, there would no more prophets, no more divine aid, the rest was up to men themselves. He always hated that saying.

He then noticed some soft sand up ahead. Recalling the theory that there was water in quicksand, he slowly began to crouch and waded his way towards the quicksand. Upon reaching the sand, he slowly put his hand near the sand’s surface to feel the texture. Suddenly, he felt something. Something old spoke to him, beckoning him underneath the quicksand. Misaq reached out and…

The quicksand turned into a hand and grabbed his arm. Before Misaq could scream, he was suddenly pulled in, right in time as the winds passed over him.

He landed on a hard metallic surface.

I guess this is the sci-fi part. Funny, it hasn’t even been an hour. Ah hell, I’m getting hungry. I’ll let Adam deal with it.

“Who said that?” said Misaq. There was no reply.

As Misaq began exploring his surroundings, he came to realize something. His wounds had healed and his clothes had seemingly repaired themselves. He observed the area. It appeared to be some kind of throne room. The walls were of a thick, smooth sheet of metal, harder than anything Misaq had ever seen. They were curved and something was flowing into them, a long tube of sorts. Misaq poked at it with his foot. A surge of lightning passed through it. Thoroughly frightened, Misaq let loose the piss he had been holding in. It brought about a calming effect, followed by a very alarming effect in that he now needed to take a shit. It was quite dark with only certain walls and a throne visible so he hoped that no one could see him. Unfortunately, his stomach seemed to catch up as he felt the need to excrete.

“Oh, what fresh hell is this? Of course, a punch to my gut relieves me.”

Misaq took off his pants and began to poop. A great way to relief stress, that. After twenty minutes, he was done and realized he needed water to wash away the impurities. Almost instantly, a slot in the ship opened, filled with water, and washed away the filth. Misaq quickly took some of the water and washed his behind with it. The water felt cool to the touch and almost clean.

Misaq pulled up his pants and walked towards the giant metallic thrones. No, not metallic. It was made of bones and soft stuff. Misaq sat on it. It felt comfortable. Then, he had an idea. A moment later, a slot opened up, revealing glass? His idea had been to read a book.

Misaq walked towards the glass. He reached out to touch it, for it looked valuable. Glass was easy enough to sell these days.

Is what I’m doing safe? This looks like the home of a magician.

Shrugging the thought away, Misaq touched the glass in his hands. Finally, he picked it up and realized it did nothing. There had been an item behind the glass. Some kind of black box with a cylinder poking out of it.

Misaq took it out and rubbed at it to clear the dust away. Doing so caused the camera to flicker to life and a holographic image appeared, scaring the pants off of Misaq, and further reducing his sanity. Then, his fear was replaced by curiosity as the beings in the picture began to speak a dialect of English.

“Hello, people of the future,” spoke a cheerful man. He was rather hairy, with a fully grown brown beard, thick rippling muscles, and green clothing. His eyes were blue and his skin appeared red. No wait, that was dried blood. Misaq had seen that enough times on himself to recognize it by now.

“Today marks a glorious day, where we, the shadows of the sky, have eliminated the mighty emperor of the Flames without Smoke. I am a member of the Shadows, alongside our alignment with Ororo Borealis, foolish be his name. Should Thou be of passing skill, please proceed to my testing area near the thrones. Welcome to the Assassin Recruit Program, ARP for short.”

“Now the first thing you may notice is, on board the ship, my machine can read your every thought. Not to worry, that’s just Bingo, the resident A.I. He can read minds and will stop doing so once you have achieved mental perfection via the force. Master Leviathan has already started instructing me on the basics, so I’m going to record my lessons. To start with, ask for the prism. It will show you a vision of what can and cannot be done. Until next time, cadet. Fare thee well.”

The image stopped moving and vanished. Misaq sat back on the throne and thought about it for 5 minutes. Then he came to the inevitable conclusion.

“Oh. I’m dead. I need to figure out what the picture was saying. Leviathan and Prism. What do those words mean? And now I’m talking to myself. Fantastic.”

Upon thinking of the Prism, the throne started moving. Misaq quickly got off. The Throne split in half, revealing a cubical object which started floating. This time, Misaq backed away. He had two options; to either explore the area or touch the bizarrely shaped object. He decided to explore the area. As he turned, his foot slipped

Desperate not to fall on his ass, as there was still an arrow tip in there, he landed backward on the device, causing it to seemingly push him forward. Misaq turned around and the device quickly floated onto his hands, breaking open. A light blue gust of wind rushed into him, with the following words spoken into his mind.

“It took Ororo's ambitions to take such simple concepts and turn them into artifacts capable of threatening civilizations. Bravo to him. Still, I can’t think of anyone who could ever match him now. ”

Misaq fell backward, this time cracking his ribs upon impact with the cold floor, causing him to scream in pain. A part of the roof suddenly gave way and fell on him.

‘No, not like this!” Misaq in desperation pushed his hands upwards. The slate stopped moving. Much to his bewilderment, Misaq began standing up, feeling his bones heal ever so slightly. He raised his arms upwards and felt the weight of the slate. It was not so heavy. Misaq willed it and tried to push the slate back into place. He pushed it upwards, launching it and sticking it into the roof.

“Huh.” Said Misaq to no one at all. Then he felt awe. And then he felt something else.

“I feel quite hungry,” The camera rejuvenated itself, displaying another recording of the Bloody man

“Nice, you’ve learned the Essence of Overpowering Will. Pretty sure anyone can do that. So the next one is the Essence of Feedback. It’s just an extension of the Overpowering Will. Just get someone to throw something at you and throw it back. I realize that sounds stupid so look at my next recording to find out how it’s done.”

Was this the work of a jinn, a magician, or just his mind playing tricks on him? thought Misaq

Misaq reached out for the pieces of the broken prism. They came to him but the action took a bizarre effect on Misaq, as though the pieces were pulling him as well. Misaq then came to a realization. The Prism was made of glass and he was pulling the pieces onto himself. With the ferocity of a tiger and the gymnastics of a hippo, he attempted to roll left, failed, and smacked his face against the ground. When he dared to glance up, he saw that the pieces had fallen as he had stopped pulling them.

The image vanished and a new one took its place. Misaq turned to stare at it. He could scarcely believe his eyes. It was a map of the region in blue, with a red dot acting as an indicator of where to go. But Misaq saw the map for what it was and realized it must have been made in the past for the red dot was directly about the grey sands, where the Royal Palace stood.

“Ok, I'm leaving. Gonna go to the market and pick up some cash. Gonna go home and straight to bed. I'll Forget this, forget you” he pointed to the ship “And forget everything else. Ugh, I’ll need a drink.”

In the corner of his eyes, the previously pushed metal piece could be seen. Misaq Pulled it towards himself, then a thought occurred to him. He mentally applied the Push to it as well. The beam began floating.

A mischievous look appeared over Misaq’s face. He moved his hands around in random directions. The beam smashed into various parts of the ship, sending sparks flying and causing dents everywhere. Tiring, Misaq let go of the beam and it fell to the ground with a dull thud.

He began to laugh maniacally.

“Fools everywhere, get ready to feel the might of A GOD!”

Continuing to laugh, he crawled out of the ship, hatching a plan to take revenge on those who wronged him.