Oh, Say the Mighty,
the Fowl, the Unruly,
the Mischievous, and Ill Hearted.
Bless it be, to those who are born from stone.
“From those ages long ago, casted away to a time long forgotten by the masses, only remembered by that of slimy, dried ink, on withered parchment. Great deeds now codified as legends, mere myths, or horrifying tales to young ones who stay late in the moons ratifying glow, waning onto dawn's early light. But you awake now, Child of Stone, pray tell what is it that you recant before your confine of earthly matter?”
“Our magic had become too useless, in effect draining my company and I to a hopeless defeat. Right before slaying a Shadow Demon from the Night Realm, our bodies began to contort to that of a statue in a floral garden. Before the transfusion of my eyes, that damnable demon scurried back into the shadows. I then arose afore you, seeing as you were… what exactly were you doing sir?”
“I, myself was predisposed with acts of the lyre, candle weed, and songs of long-tailed serpents. Fore seen ruins have guided me on this path, to seek truths of the past. You were just the first to be reanimated to the living plane. Though you may not fully grasp what has been completed now, in acts of time you shall see, the questionable ethics concluded to the letter. As for now, know that by releasing you from your shackles, I have sought to bring magic back to a world lost to madness and fear.”
He did not look at me, perplexed by this situation, I began to stutter my boundless curiosity. “Wh-what ever do you mean elderly one, there still must be magic as you have freed me, no? So, magic must still b-be left in the world, surely you jest?” The old man, greying in his hair, with robes covered in soot and a shroud over his eyes. He began, with his ever precedent, booming voice, that could stir the very heavens.
“I have never ‘jest’, nor will I ever,” incensed he said profusely. “You may have been asleep for an ungodly amount of generations,” taking a sigh, he began again more calmly. “However, that is a fault on my behalf, as you do not currently know the situation. So, I shall allow you to ask questions, but in only a yes or no format as time grows short. You may begin when ready.”
Suddenly, a cold sweat formed on top of my still encrusted scalp, as I nervously looked at him. “Alright, then let me start. If magic is truly dead and gone, did you use an enchanted item to free me?”
“Yes.”
“May you show it to me?”
“Yes.” He proceeded to throw a long metal rod towards my feet. It did not look enchanted, rather, it seems to be somewhat similar to that of a rod found in a blacksmiths’ forge.
“Are items, such as this, only one-time use?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, if that is the case, are they similar to this rod?”
“No.”
“Hmm… are they abundant?”
“No.”
“Can they be created?”
“No.”
“Do you know the whereabouts of these items?”
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“No.”
“Is there a place or a map that does?”
“Possibly.”
“Well… that is, umm… a bit unnerving. Do you know what caused me and my company to turn into statues?”
“No”, the old man said, as he began to rise from his resting position. “The hour grows tall, one last question, then we must move. Before the Blood Eagles take flight to tear your flesh apart and appease their never-ending hunger.”
“Oh”, I frantically began to conjure out my last question for the evening. Still barely knowing little from the passage of time. “Is there a way to free my company?”
“N-no”, he said, slowly biting down hard on his lip. I knew that he wanted to say yes, though could not. “Quickly”- as the old man leaps of the large mound, and skids down to me. “Follow my lead, as the screams from our foes grow closer,” he said grabbing a cloak to put over me.
In all that time, I had not noticed that I was as nude as a newborn. I soon became overwhelmed with chills and replying, “thank you for the apparel, but now where are we heading?” Keeping an ear out I only heard mutterings from this man, who up till recently, has been the only person to have had a conversation with.
The old man grabbed my hand and pulled me towards his direction. Walking swiftly now, I was just a hair behind him. I remarked to him, “look, I know you said no more questions. But, you sir, should at least answer as to where we head to.”
Putting his hands over my mouth to keep silent, I heard the shrieks from the southwest. With his head pointing towards me, he knew something, something that I have no knowledge about. Then I felt it, “AAAAH-,” the old man put a piece of dried, tuff, years old leather in my mouth. Instinctively I bite down on it, to focus my attention away from the pain. It was like something I never experience in all my days hunting fowl beasts for the Count Heclesus, of the manner Ulbright. I felt like a sharp, unnatural, pulse, along with a feeling of strangulation of the head. Then came the many different tongues, I knew not what they say, all sounding like pure gibberish, and my eyes began to swell. After the last cry from the awful eagles, the effects slowly departed from me.
“We must get out of this place”- he said, pointing down some eroded stairs. Guiding me now, we hastily descended, as I was recovering from that miserable pain. By the third or fourth flight of crumbling stairs, he lit a torch and handed me one to grasp. By the sixth flight, I could feel the ground shaking, “I”- he put his index finger on his lip and motioned to stay silent. By the tenth or eleventh flight, I could see the light cracklings from beyond our grasp.
Arriving at the large stoney door, we each squeezed past the thin crack. As soon as I popped out, I was on a bridge left to rot by centuries of neglect. There I could see the world, and how lifeless it became in my absence. Never would I believe that the world I left with skies of blue, have amber instead, and the plants show signs of death. I immediately spurred out, “what has happened to this beautiful world, has war ravaged the entire planet?”
The old man taking a deep, bellowing breath, “yes, a war formed after most Casters were turned into stone. The countless kingdoms were reduced to ashes. In its wake naught but the ruthless can survive, there is no one to help each other. All magic is gone and along with the splendor of life, such is as has been. Hail Earl Samuel, House of the Black Unicorns, you must face the world and all its cruel horrors. I beg- no, implore you to bring back magic to a world ridiculed by foes of darkness.”
How he knew my name, much less my title, was of little concern. I said unto him, “by what name do you go forth with?” He paused and walked near an open ledge of the bridge, and sat down, feet dangling over the sheer vertical drop. I awaited for his response, with deep hesitation, in hopes that he comes from a Casters’ school that is active and with glorious renown.
“My name is Julius the Wise, if you were hoping that I was of a specific school. Then it must be known that all schools have died, mine most recently. It was the Casters’ school of the White Talon, where I trained to find use in arcane languages, right before the… well you already know. Come let us make for the tree line, there we can escape the night, find shelter and a ration for the evening.”
Well at the very least, I finally knew a sliver of knowledge. That in my imprisonment within stone had some correlation to this man, Julius, and his quest. Though, I still do not fully understand why I was the so-called first to be ‘reanimated’. “So be it,” I said staring into his red shroud. Still shaking from the cold, “could we start with a fire, and may I get some true cloth to shield me from the elements.” Julius nodded, and we carefully walked off the collapsing bridge to the large pine trees south of us.
We arrived onto a grove, with moss, and mushrooms scattered around, and the thick brush nestled us between the trees. Julius ever stern, lit a flame, and I slowly warmed by cracklings of the fire. “Rest now, for by daybreak we have a great trek to the markets east of here, near the foot of the mountains. I was lucky to have found you in mid-spring and not early winter”- he said, as stoking the fire with twigs. I soon began to drift into a heavy sleep, now only wanting a comfy bed to lye upon.