Here I speak in first for the duration of time which it is given.
For I knew not much of the aftermath that came with dealing with a monster that liveth below the abysm. Now for it to house his authority over the partial sealed dome to the world, have I kicked him out. What is the command? To bring forth his kind and seeds? It couldn’t be. Clearly, a genuine poor man hath not made such entity to dwell with the creatures of the lands and seas, nor to the fowls that soar greatly within the atmosphere. Neither to the critters and crawlers before them.
My humanly body had its limit. Only it was a body of the old world which I had came from. The pain of muscles in thighs and arms was to great length. Have I exhausted every bit of courage mustered not knowing my doom ceased it’s homecoming. A daring chance to do, indeed. But to know that thine life wast at stake, need I not much but for only a drop of the breath of life. For I spake that of the ongoing current of wind that blow beloweth the ankle. The push that forwards you against thine enemies. Whether this enemy is simple or men or beasts or critters or those that are below the deep.
We’re in the light stream.
“An actual good glowing fairy.” I presume to be wrapped in an angelic tomb that has waft into the sky. The vibrating warmth was bearable though I was sweatier than the days I had slept in my car; drenched in salty sweat down deeply into the underwear and crevices. Goodness, the night itch and stickiness was comparable to what was happening around me. Here, I was silent. My mind blank out a couple of times like the time I tested in eating jalapeno peppers, grapefruits and with a dash of salt.
“Haaaa-AAAA!!!” yelled Salamandor.
Here with my afflicted status hoping we would escape harms way, with a portion of my conscious self intact, was I aware the young summer sprite have smacked on the outer mountain wall. We were projected off course. In the state that the four of us were in, excluding the state of Manni’s pets, you couldn’t tell much from inside the light stream; other then Salamandor’s explanation and the vision of the third eye that the sprite graciously shared with me. Yea, that was what it was called, a light stream. But hearing the summer sprite, he called it a Summer Portal.
It was a couple of kilometers from the direct rendezvous. We had crashed on top of a gang hideout uninvited, broke through the hidden sealing we did and the plains’ police found their target from our courteous drop in. Fortunately for us, not arrested. I greatly detested the break in from the camouflage hills of poor men’s carpentry. It was I who broke the fall and was completely knock out in the head.
In third person. This is not a story about our main saving a damsel in distress. Goodness, nope.
A blend, a half, of summer and dark storm, they have travel northwest that leads down to a gorge. From this pathway, the Horse Plains of Hagaroth welcomes them, and from it, will the frontier brings them to the shores of Sylvan. There’s a traveler’s route that linked to the Northern Grasslands only known to the kobolds and elvfyns. The plains’ police given the group their protection services to the end of their border. Nou and the rest of her little entourage removed themselves from a Ghibli Studio military machinery. Had they thank and went, continue on the unmarked road. A tiresome travel the plain’s police could see wondering if they would be alright. Had two days past enduring hardship and where these of the worst days. A song accompany.
Song Title : “A Lovely Pet” by some hobo dude (Female Version)
Don’t you know that night I’ve founded you, when I thought you were plainly good,
I can’t stand your stare when you watch me bleed, a constant smiling creed that had made me
drool so cleverly. But two weeks away, a nesh of mine broken soul realize your story.
That you come more or less to stop the afflicted heart. The rain and thunder had
accused lightning. Has it got me thinking of the possibility, has my die had been cast so
autonomously? Please let it be a paw instead. Have your hands touched my face. I’m gonna
lose the cutest bet . . .
The realization. The meaning of her favorite song. Red, red, red she is. The choo-choo station steamed greatly and she stop completing the verses. But do I know you readers want more of it. The rhythm. The style. The melody. The feel.
Instead, would she sing another song to compensate for the shame, “I got egg, I got chicken, waiting. Waiting for you . . .” A poor choice to be counseled by. Suddenly, something like this, “Oh-O-O-Only you . . . ! . . I UNDERSTAND!” and was the lyrics change to favor elvfyns’ romance.
It had rain, showered with thunders, and a parade of lightnings. The plain is filled with many types of horses yet was the danger great. For they're wicked and feral beasts, who roams the plains in the night, who seek them and the horses as meat. The sisters played it safe, rest in peculiar spots taught by the tribal elders.
Manni complain about many things. The anger bubble of her’s were restrained by Nou. Seneth was still ever asleep but not on purpose from the knock in the noggin. His body, changing, regulating to the realm, materializing other aspects to his soul. One could say, he was re-digitizing or auto-updating in video game terminology. Perhaps, it’s just a fetish. . . . Nah.
And was a leak of a work slightly shown when Nou slip from a loosening rock taking the hobo’s jacket off to strain and dry. This digital seep, it wasn’t something she could comprehend. And to see after, a booger hanging under the hobo’s nose, had it change her thought. Though ever curious of her sister’s human summon, pry like a “happy” high school girl, a cyber sleuth. Game datas or codes as it is label, she scan and search for the minutes of these alienated works that lead south of the body. It was quite astonishing but the sisters wasn’t perverted. Clearly mad red once she realize what she was staring at. Don’t the wizards love it! Knowing single women, you can’t always be sure. Manni and her creatures are in rest except a new summon of her’s. A boxing white liger. The fire laid low.
A new day starts. The Horse Plains of Hagaroth summer rain theme.
“No slacking, Salamandor. Do your fair share.” Manni said. The story of no excitement continues. Fifteen days had pass in this survival mode. It was most fortunate, the girls are survivalists with a bit of help with items given from the plains’ police. Seneth was still asleep. Ever was the sprites there, greatly helping with the lift that even the sisters and the summons knew not. So children, their burden was much light.
Another three days have past of the most reconcilable moments with the theme. Then ended it with the sisters, who walked the high hills, of this uncharted road of the grassland. And below the sturdy plain, it was their mother, washing old-aged cloths and bed sheets. It was a peaceful and enduring challenge carrying the hobo man miles on foot. The sight of the daughter spooked the mother’s heart with joy, told the little boys helping her with the chores as punishment to inform the elders and her brother.
“Mommy!” cried Manni. She ran in hand to her mother as Nou pull more weight to carried the man. Salamandor was struggling to lift the hobo. The greater summons were recalled from a limited time span.
“My Nou.” Their mother watched.
Four days he had slept in the settlement. The young adults gathered the elders for a council of their own, to conjure a possible plan to deal with the magician if he ever did found out. Awaken and found himself in the midst of being nurtured back to health. The mosaic ways. A bit of clean spit, mashed plants, hot water and knitted towels. It was shocking to the Lord of Hobos, the old ladies even bathe’m, and kept the odd feeling to hiself.
Went the little boy to inform the elders and guided him to their meeting; vastly they, spoke of who they are and asked for where he’s frometh; to talk of problems and the sagas of events; a strange ideas of the celestial telling that was told by their forebearers. What are these strange ideas you may asked? The sea of first heaven that still holds Nuj’s laws in effect. What the world would called it a mansion.
Seneth was lost in thoughts, never had dreamed of his mansion but knew of it. Change the subject the best he can to hide his true identity. Even his real name was tucked in a locked cabinet. Our main had a mouth full of words conveyed to him. Young elians believed his gray truth. Never did the elders but humbly kept their reasons. Seneth’s stomach growling nonstop.
The fire had laid high. Many seniors excuse the poor hobo of his manly enigmatic attitude and went he, back to the ward to get his fresh cleaned jacket. There he apply a strong scented ointment made of boar fat onto his knee cap. The pain was irritating.
Salamador was present. His father was on death’s bed. The boy sprite was being lectured, force on by his mother. Life was drain out from the father like a dehydrated plum.
“B-but, mommm . . .”
“No worry, Sun. I’ll manage.” said the father sprite with the wrinkle lips of vegetables.
The Holy Library-on-Wheels was connected to the ward. And on the elian desk, their was a piece of parchment croquet in a book. Nuj pick up the burgundy tome. It was flourished with written histories, intriguing works of maps and even origamis? It was old and pages were unbind. The land was called OriginS from a map he observe. Seneth took the book to the grassen carpet and read it. It was rude but did it anyway. Gathering intelligence before heading out into the world is a smart thing to indulge in. He has no idea what the children of the void are planning. “Children” in Astra language means young stars in the sea of heavens.
North of the Kingdom of Bryce is the country of Oboe. Oboe is a small country formed by the nine city-states. And those states are: Thyein, Rohymn, Lasting Autumn, Solemn Winter, Dumbodale, Mathis Telus, Talania, Joyous Spring, and Milathrrelien. Askistari City is the last remnant of the old kingdom of Crymea. Roots goes deep as they are part of Oboe but not as one. East of the countries are the Allen Mountains. There it lies the dwarfvens of Nolgen Allen who made the mountain walls and foothills as their home. At its peak, are towns of spiritual followers devoted to cultivate immortality. North of the states are the grasslands. Mountain ranges claw its way into the heart of the free. There, it is divided into the two, north and south. The Northern Grassland are where the nomadics rule and home of the elvfyns. The Southern Grassland is home of the tokgensou. Other tribes lives there but they are the most dominant. West of the lizard beings is the Lake of Lyre. Pristine waters from the snowy mountain it gives. The twin brothers, they are intertwine as the older brother is carved into the the desert of Sylvan. The desert is formidable and mimics that of the sea. Sand pirates rule with an iron fist. Once a tale, it was never a desert to begin with. The men of Elysium blew the once prosperous nation of semi-cultures to oblivion for taking his object of affection. A show of force that rivals the elvftherials and Highland. Two routes exist within the desert. The calm route that is fill with danger during the day. It leads to the merchants paradise, a hidden ravine of goods. And through the passage, you are at the foot of Watermaugh, filled with many small villages. Another road goes through the storm, to the port of Raijohn. And there it leads to the southeastern lands of Highland, Tarosa and Eris. Oh, they gain their independence in the year 25 BF (Before Fall). It’s a city of fortresses, home of dragon riders and beast keepers of the northern Silk Road. The Ashlan Mountain safeguarded their keeps. From there, the route branches off into three: to the Kingdom of Ashen of the east; to the north, Penopi, The Republic of Nations; to Jeasapha, the northeastern metropolis of the rocky plains.
“Were is Midori Summer?” Seneth decided to travel. The man didn’t set a goal and the readers are at a loss. Fascinating things emerges from his works. Fantastic books and tomes, tasty treats and cuisines, geometric architectures advance for the ages, cultures born from many races and most of all, an evil that creeps in the brightest twilight was what got him curious.
Seneth did not like fighting for justice, men’s justice that is, the precept of men, the religion of men. But does he feel, in his very own self, has it taken a bit on the worldly things; yet wonder if the people of the land knew what is righteousness without worldly views. It was never in his nature to act blindly in a profane way. Often he let his fate decide or go on a whim. That is his character. That does not mean he turn a blind eye for evil. Usually make others do it.
They celebrated Nou’s early wedding. The elvfyns called it a spring waft, a holy matrimony. It was a holy union to lift their spirit. And did he find it strange to be celebrating four days after saving Nou and her cheeky geeky sister Manni. The elvfyns dance around the bonfire holding hands, expanding and retracting from the fire. All was in unison through man and woman sang a song they all did, only in voices as woods cracked. The tradition had change through the era. Nomadic musics and chants were present after the bonfire dance. A mesh of orient Celtic, folk rock and a splice of Touhou music. I am confident I precisely heard an oboe.
A large barbecue grill stash with two prickly boars on sticks looks delectable. Some elvfyns wear a fancy hat similar to that of southern Asia. Thin fluffy white hats with the bunny ears that conclave down to the neck. Oh, there were more. A chubby elian surprisingly. Let there be aria.
Manni had a story to tell. A true adventure of hers’, and she brag of the best moments. Jorgie was surprise and was having trouble to convey his love for the cunning girl. Tibetan look-alike monks were there chanting of good health. They wore the yellow horse hats, in which symbolizes a runaway horse that found home again. Similar in design as of this world’s religious practice in Tibet. They were not offer meat. Instead, was given rare delicious juicy fruits. The respected monks had asked for it.
“Pardon my intrusion for disturbing your peace, sir Seneth. May I be your company for tonight?”
“Not at all an intrusion . . . Please.” said our main.
Seneth and Neshinarrou had a conversation away from the bonfire. Asked him to forgive the elder Kiba for his distrust and hateful view of him. The civilized men were not fully away from the excitement. Even the food preppers notice them. The cooks brought them plates of food unknown to him except for one as he talked to the high chief and his wife. Laid the smokey treasure they did on the grassen carpet. All were entertain by special captivating dances and storytelling reenactments. For the women, the dances were close to that of belly dancing. For the men, it was more like a mixture of interesting competition and their world’s fantasy plays. The settlement where they settle was of plenty. Where is Nou, you might asked? She is in a twin tepee in a religious purification of her soul with the head priest and priestess.
“So, who is the lucky man?”
It peaked the hobo’s interest when fixing his bandages looking into the half open cloth door. There she sat as a shaman fickle water to her face chanting an old elvfyn langauage. Askal was it that predated the linguistic of the elvessals, sylvmira; and for the elvfodites, lyngooki. Askal is used in more than language. Will a chart explained better?
When the elian split after an old age argument, were they of Elvftherials, Elvfodites and Elvfyns. From the Elvftherials, was the tribe split once more. Two factions who’d named themselves as Elvessals. One group travels to the High North above Highland. The second group, the most dominant, travels to the western continent. Those left, little is the origins of the tribe, rebrand as the true Elvftherials who their forefathers had disgraced them; whom still speaks the ancient tongues, Almen and Azalee.
“Ah, Nuj. It is the son of the butcher. They were to be wedded three years ago but ill fate had intervene.”
“Is that so?”
“Forgive my bluntness. Our people had live in this land for a meridian before the creation of the northern nation, Sylvan. To have a limited home and subjugated under their laws was a problem of its own. The past cannot be redeemed. Looking into the future is a waste if the present is not fixed.”
“Hmm?” Nuj thought.
“I am old. Old as the aged cult, who has an interest for our kind other than king Belnydes and his people, which I found it oddly fortook. If it weren’t for the sincerity of dwarfvens that help repel the invasion, this tribe would’ve been lost. Freely we traveleth upon the plain brought us many great wonders and scarcely not many know of our stars. That, I am most fortunate for.”
“Until three years ago?” said Seneth.
“Yea. As one of the high chief of this tribe, I plan on moving this settlement to the west to the Lake of Lyre. There, we may find a new home to call haven.”
“You plan everything out haven’t you? That’s good. Not like me though. Things comes naturally for me, I guess.”
“A God should not doubt, Nuj. Manni was right. You do not act like one.” Neshinarrou smiled.
“I am not God. Just a Creator. There is a difference. Speak I plainly the truth and you still understand me not. I give up.”
“What will you do now? Given that the child’s sister is safe, art thou planning to return?” said Elfya.
“Don’t know how. Why not travel? Traveling will probably get somethings off of my mind. After all, I created this world and worlds without numbers for my own purpose.”
“Oh, what would that be?” said Neshinarrou.
“Many to name. Like counting every dot of sand and rolling them up like a scroll. It’s hard work y’know.” Seneth looked into the sky.
“Ahem, pardon me once again. For I know not much that had happened in the celestial kingdom. Making this world your home is going to shift the balance of powers. I would like to see what you can do with that human body of yours. Pray I tell, the powers you must be weary of though ye need not for thou art all-seeing.” Knowing myself, swap my writings to first person here and there.
“Oh, enlight me then . . . son of numbers.” Seneth pop some pistachios into his mouth while watching the festivities. He surely knew not of all the current events. For he, Nuj, had lost many of the knowledge past the veils that liveth above the firmament of second waters. According to good will, Endlessly.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Come at me.” Per hobo saith decisively, “Give I only that is necessary. For I plead not.”
“The elvessals of the west are not as what they seem. After the fall of their leader, Asthal, conflicts brewed with his three sons. It is a facade that the Congress of Magi would not ignored. Heed no warning they did, the youngest, Eudalia, engulfed the western continent under his rule rather than raising beings into the good light. I fear what will become to the elvessals in the north.”
“Great . . . more adventures for me. I hope I don't have to deal with them.” It was a sarcastic tone, “Evil must be joking with me.” So predictable.
“Rumors has it that the Court of Veils is searching for the old blood. I am not quite sure what they meant by “old blood”. But it is clear that the Count of Nishkidra controls the court from the shadows. He is indeed in line with Highland and a vampire at best.”
“What make sure that you’re telling are the facts?” Seneth question Neshinarrou.
“Troubadours and musicians sang their tunes loud on the prairie. In the city, they sang for those to sleep.”
“Fair enough . . . What is of the last?” said Seneth.
“The men of Elysium and their plans for world regeneration. I can’t comprehend what they meant by regenerating the world other than to destroy, control and rebuild nations to their liking. You must be careful of their advance weaponry. In the beginning, Sylvan was never a desert. Destroying and rebuilding nature is what the Appohna does best. Not like these outsiders, men who claim to be called gods.”
“Three powers that manipulate one another. Nothing is new under the sun.” Nuj quietly said while looking directly at the map. A sigh, “Why do anime weeb writers want to slay gods?” Well, like any writers’ workshop advice, write what you know. And the best collective work is . . . yourself. O, how lame. Might I troll those sayers who wears the skins of angels or perhaps, a scientific overlay. Any advance civilization to the eyes of the lows are seen as gods.
Neshinarrou turn to look at the hobo, “What was that?”
“Nothing important. It is better, in my opinion, for the people to resolve their own problems. In which case, many do not. I might as well puppet evil and arouse those who still holds their heart. If there are any left.” Neshinarrou, Elfya and Nuj continues their conversation. The wife talk of their histories during the mid of night. A portion of what Seneth heard was this:
“It all started in the east, in the land of milk, honey and trees. Gifted the land was, it roamed with kirins and jourmahs. Plagues had no roads to walk, only to dissolve from the scent of the frees. Guarded the land was by unicorns who healed the weakest beast until it came from the south. The pure had flee. First, came the howling roars. Its breath reach the high walls of Thyein, chipped and cracked the Fortress of Hymia, and desolated the lowly farmlands. The undead worms had awaken from west and east. They came from the soils deep, pillaged the souls of the lost and in the plain they dwell for dominancy. Hideous creatures they are, rotted the roots of the great winter trees in the land of the planxis. And all that stood was the golden egg . . .”
It was one O’morning, Seneth left the settlement with a lamp. Toot-Too-Ling!
Congratulation! You have earned the title: Nomadic Hobo
Nou had took a break from the ritual and saw him from the south road. Why walk when you can have a gryphorse and a pulley? Perhaps, he did not thought of it. The chief had believed our main is tuned for teleportation magics but would like to take his time walking. The man was not sad nor overly happy as the elders of the tribe watched him leave. He was glad to be going on an adventure starting in the early dawn. I believe that it is not smart for him. For better or worse, he let fate decide. The celebration he enjoy and the feast that was given to him in honor for saving the younglings were full-filled. Who knew saving elvfyns would make them sworn covenant with him. He was not fond of receiving a lot of money. All coins it was. The hobo only took the amount that is needed for him to survive for at least a month. Yet, he took more than what he would expect. He knows not of their currency rates. Still, it was a lot of jamming newly minted coinage of different colors.
Seneth left a flower scar in Nou’s chest. It was not the scar of pain but a scar that represent the feeling of missing. A feeling of affection from actions one took to save another. Everyone of her friends in the tribe did not believe Manni to the slightest that Seneth was God. They ridicule her except for the elders who promise Nuj that his secret will not be known. Yubaba came to Nou’s side. She is a human in a troupe of performing arts. A circus no less, traveling north for a performance to the magistrate of Watermaugh and his twenty-three children. The old lady told of many things looking at Seneth from the distant before she glance at the green glowing moon that lit the road.
“To fall in love knows not of love. And we make fun of true love. Those who endure hardship and stand their ground knows what is made of love. For it is not determine how much you care for others but for how much others care for you. That is most certain the truest of loving. Don’t tell me you have-?” Nou turn to look at Yubaba but was not certain and looked directly at the grass.
“No, it is not that. He kinda . . . stinks.” said Nou.
“Ho ho. I would've not expected that. What ever ill reason you hone, you must not give in, oh child, nor think of it. Hate is just as strong as any other prayers. It can manifest and take form on its own. Just as those who pray for your brother’s sickness that had been washed away, so can hate inflict and collects pain, becomes a reality that follows them. The evil entities, those that brings misery, will they do worst by your words and works. A curse in the land of beings. To be purify will drive them away, yes. But it will seek its brothers of blackness to grow and reclaim its host. They're are many flocks even if one ceased. You must never walk in their brothers’ shoes. It will degrade your soul, Nou.” said the granny. Manni came up the grass hill from behind.
“Sis! It’s time for your marriage rehearsal! Hmmm, did Seneth leave? I haven’t see him for a while now.” The granny made some effort to push Nou out of her state.
“He left, Manni. Seneth said that he had some business with the nine-states.” It was a white lie Nou told to Manni. A smile she put up for her to not miss the summoned. Funny little Manni. The young one still assume Nuj was her pet.
“Is that so? Oh well. I hope he finish his work and come back. I wanna show him this new miracle that the twins had taught me.” The kobold merchant and his merry troupe came to get Yubaba.
“Dear, I must be going.”
“Already? I would like for you to stay for the wedding if it is not too much to ask.” said Nou. Yubaba hold her left palm gently with both hands.
“Life is full of surprises, my dear. Do remember this, Nou. You must move on even if the embers in your heart starts to yearn for more grass.”
“How many saying is that?” Nou was confuse of her statement thinking she, herself, was in love with Seneth?
“Triple. Never judge those who seen battle physically and darely mentally; to those who had been in the arena at the stake of them lives. Leave the judging to the most high. If thou judges quick to contempt with ill, so shall he judges ye quick ignoring thine deeds. I must be on my way to Watermaugh. The children are way too passionate! Ho ho”
That early morning, the old lady and the troupe left the settlement. It will take the troupe about ten days to get there before the deadline. In the Northern Grassland, north of breezy hills, lies Wyvern’s Canyon perpendicular to the sea of desert. It is a small passage that led to the Horse Plains of Hagoroth and into the mouth of the ravine. The ravine was a once an active traders route, a territory of annual markets. Now, a ghost town of rare stores. The shore of the desert was filled with danger. Giant sand worms lived in the beds of the rested shores. Active during the days these carnivorous plants are. Traveling by night was the most safest way. The plants made a good defense against the warring factions of sand pirates. These worms are food for the sand manatees and sand belugas. But as of late, poachers has been collecting these curious creatures’ skins for item creations and black magics.
Two evening after Seneth left, Neshinarrou and his wife went to meet with the chief of the tokgensou and to asked for their help, and it became known as the “Journey To The West”.
In Highland, west of the Korika Borders, a small country created by the Court of Veils is located. Message of the event that Durian Dome was destroy had reach the inner court. Out on the open hall, Vernie, the fourth magister of veils, slam Narbodci unto the wall holding his fist tightly on the damned exquisite collar.
“Narbodci, you condemned creature of the night! There is no end to your madness. The court has become no more than a slaughter house, yet, you think this a game!”
“End? Game?!” The vampire chuckle away, “Vernie, you're joking. I barely did nothing other than give away some of my precious thoughts, put a few into the third magistrate's little head of his. You should be glad the plan came to bear fruits. If you are eager to blame someone, look no further than the six.”
“Bastard of a merchant! This will split the court!”
“Precisely, comrade. Come now, Vernie Violetbell, join the darker side that resides below the shadows. Let us partake of this defiled masonic meeting. I know how you must feel, tired of being another man's puppet, fighting on the sideline, afraid of getting your hands dirty.”
“You back stabbing schwinn! I will not fall down to your wicked level, Narbodci. The court's judiciary will-”
“Pity me your justice in a court of the fallens. The old prince will not hesitate to kill the both of us-that is . . . for the living of course. Let us brethren commune shall I say. It will be in our best interest to work together, my cunning lip of persuasion and your judicial hands to write laws. You’ve been wanting to get your hands on Cartorgian's job for decades. And with this dark deal, Cartorgian will be out of the picture. How I love it. More evil and sinister than I, the count of Nishkidra.”
“Don't temp me. It was wrong for the council to trust you.”
“Temp you? Temp you?! He he he. Not at all. I simply want to open the veil, oh, clean those dusty shady veils, shed some lights into the veil; replaced tainted bloods with fresh one, don't cha think? My goal is the same just like yours.” The talk of blood brought back his past, "O-o-O-o-o-Oh, my daughter's wine was sooo sweet.” A soft sadistic laugh he murmur with them piano fingers in action, wiggling the tapping, the special-need child’s palm and arm, madman of cockroach’s legs running, and would it be precise to say, the eerie twitching of the noggin. The demonic eyes he shown Vernie lasted a horrific impression on his very soul.
“You monster.” replied Vernie. Has it loosen his grip.
“. . . . . Aren't we all?” Narbodci ridiculed the fourth with more devastating truths and push aside Vernie's handicap hold. It reminded this legislator of the privily massacre the court upheld, fed the soldiers and peasants of the grounded dead bodies, for their country of that time were starving and food were scarce. Such sacrilege they committed, not letting the public knew of the horrors in the court of justice. A hypocritical court to be name for the covers of a veil.
Narbodci, too, was once a human. A father who had fallen for desires. A poor merchant who stumble upon the Nightless Ring and gained its' vampiric powers. It was the power of feeding, a feast of energy. Ever it does is to shine your magnificent. A power that knows no evil; knows not of what evil is. A power to bring out its bearers' Want of many, merge and create anew, the needs of the wearer. A fearful ring indeed in the hand of the right owner but for the wrongful, they become no more than vampiric ghouls.
“Ahem. I assume that your dispute has ended.”
“General Gyion." responded Vernie. Narbodci smile with a shown of his fang satisfied of the current situation, "I must be on my way, fellow comrades. I too, am an ambassador. Dearest me, furlough I of thou little reunion.” The zombie walk down the wide stairs, closed-mouth chuckled.
“. . . Gyion, how many sins has the court kept hidden?” asked Vernie, watching as Narbodci descend.
“Enough to make a good man into a mass murderer.” This general of Veils gave his effort to hide his sighing.
“See that the count arrive unharmed.” and Vernie took a deep and heavy breath to calm himself.
“Very well.” Gyion was about to head out, “Oh, b’out the proposal.”
“I will introduce the law to the court than to the king. If we are to have favor in winning over delegates, then the Newtest nobles will play along to gain votes.”
“Understood.”
Now have we change maps and southeast is our heading, pass many lands to the low lands of Highland and Tarosa. Follow we down to the grasslands and from south to southwest here was Seneth, traveling pass the ending bank of the Lake of Lyre and rivers are crystal clear. No mud on the embankment but rocks.
To where Nuj went, the hobo headed to the country of Oboe. On a whim? I guess not. He heard of the state named, Lasting Autumn. Find it in his interest about their ways. Yes, the states were made up by guilds! Many of the orders are patrons of the art. It was an advance renaissance. But, stay low they did, for they know what will become of their future, a conglomerate of mad merchants.
The word “Guild” meant different in this world yet shared similarities to medieval times. Yes, for all those who knows, they are artisans practicing different crafts and trades or in intertwining political guilds. Those were the main view of the many. Others were formed as clubs and societies who celebrate certain festivities or worships. Many traded their skills for work. Some offers protection services for large sums of riches. The guilds are a source of revenue for the common people and for those who are wealthy. An enjoyable job no less. It was not consider nor it was slavery. However, they are some shady businessman.
There are many guilds in Autumn. Some lasted for years and others are diminished. Those that carry good name functioned as a school for their respective work of crafts or skills. In the OriginS peninsula, an apprentice does not become a journeyman. He or she is tested on a particular trade(s). If they passed, the apprentice could go on their own journey selling their skills for a greater good or bad and may even become a master of his or her own design. Which ever is the case. Guilds are allow to practice their work anywhere in the states. It was a treaty signed by all known as “The Nomad League.” Their way of being a guild is not constricting to the ties that the Court of Guilds reign above them. Yes, the court assembles and create guilds to those who wish. They are not allow to dictate a price of work or skills given. That is the job of the guild masters. A sum of coins must be paid and must be in coinage. The court takes no bill of exchange for they are not moneylenders nor moneychangers. Those with no money may start a guild. However, they are not given an “estate” at start.
It was more than a guild to the average. It was a dream come true. An important social gathering club, and in the guild halls they debate, plan and celebrate parties with members. Drink sweet apple ales and berrywines to their max. Ah, reminiscence of video games. The ale tasted just like juices with a strong licorice taste of chestnut brown-malted beer, brewed by legendary master craftsman, yummy! Ooo don’t forget the sugar rum plum. The bitter taste was not overwhelming. The bitterness subtle down with the tongue. It was enjoy by young man, single women and the old. Are you interested?
The Court of Guilds imposed high laws of order for all guilds to insure that merchants in all division will not take advantage and ruin the people’s prosperity. To balance the order, three balance and checks were created. No different then the three branches of government. With that said, evil always lurk in all government whether it is fantasy or not.
To balance the Court of Guilds, stood the Council of Five. The council is made up by six individuals: Three voices the farmers and producers; One voice the merchant and wealthy; and two voices the general public. Most of all, those in the council cannot be in guilds. Elections are held every two years. Six board members in a council of five? Gee, I wonder why.
And last stood is the mayor of the state. I probably can guess what the mayor’s job would be including and the trinkets of fantasy roles. Those who knows history and study governments, I’ll leave it at this. To those that don’t, the Holy Library-On-Wheels is your best friend. I hope.
Oh readers, in Oboe, the nine-city states are in commune. A community of guilds, farmers and nobles who settle the various valleys and hills of the nine states. Each state have their government, constitution and specified coins. The land was based on good hearts and oath of mutual aid against aggressors who roam about the country and foreign enemies. Though there is one land that is not with the state. It is Askistari City. It is a large country of its own yet shared ties with the nine states. A cancer that will never die in most eyes.
The king’s vassals and dukes wanted dominion over the states. There laws were that of monarchial structure. And to gain and hold power; Fedread, the king, allied as it was said, with the dark priestess of Highland. A court nun she is, walked with the king in his order. Her name is Elyza Lovelace. The court knows her as Lady Loveless. Fedread was converted into the teaching of the three pious sect and their mother goddess. The high priestess of Highland had their own interest in territorial expansion in the name of just wars. The king was their cover.
Fedread was a fair king. Through the land, people known him cause of his brownish red beard. Made peace with the tokgensou and stopped the rebellion of the south when Bryce intervened. He removed powerful privileges of princes, princesses and dukes throughout his realm. With this edict gave the rise to power to the nine-city states. He was a man simply controlled by his vassals and many titles he was given, “Babarossa, The Silent.” The usurper lost his young wife when ascending the throne to reform the country’s political structure. And soon fell in love with the captured royal court nun. Fallen he did, to please Elyza. Oh, with cold heart of stones, he beheaded his very two sons from tempered trials.
Enough with history! Lets get back to the story. . .
It was a long journey indeed and in all this travel until reaching the roadway to Autumn; one of mister Steve Oliver’s music was played out. From the album: Positive Energy, soundtrack one I assume. Good to know.
First person . . .
I had travel from the Northern Grassland in the land that which it was called. Head I south to the boarder of Southern Grassland to the village of Pikari saving a lone family within a caravan along the way. Suppose I was a hero but no. I was mistaken as a baddy for their baddies dressed in black cloths. The profiles seem to fit with their theme, not realizing a betrayal was among them.
I was blamed and attacked walking pass their judgement seat. What a dumb hide-in-seek I did pretending I wasn’t there, not wanting to get involve. And a skirt-chasing nobleman of the day named Euirlin, his manhood was wanked by fellow robbers. Well, there are no honor among thieves lest they are as one brethren of there own codes. Less it be, the oath of the ancient. Will I strike them down when necessary. But I am not here to judge though it is hard to do when I too have my own sins.
The first encounter, the level one enemies are called Unlearned Bandits, had been defeated. The hilarious hypocrisy vanquished by the help of the travelling band. The merry family cheered and offer me and a lost noble dude a ride to town. The breeze blew.
There in the village, I paid the fee and waited for the ferry to cross the river Lynndaus. The sun was nice that morning until the evening hit as I barrages through the second test. One knows me well and trial me. Endure I through the semi-desert seeing eagles and wise owls hoot away their prey in abundance. I must be Ken from “Fist of The North Star” at that moment hanging on the sail glider. Giant flesh-eating seaweeds came out from the sand and then came the desert whales, adventurously clamp the giganto carnivorous plants from the sandy deep. A close call tourist attraction. The breeze blew.
It was not long before a hobo like me would reach destination. I took a detour in the desert. For I know not that an ice cream truck was there but it gave me peace. Stop I for a couple of shaved ice on a small bench and rest before adventuring again under a cooling crystal dragon’s bane and glacier wing. And all I did was look at the the mysterious cloud that have been following me. The breeze blew.
Would a twelve episodes abridgment excite the readers? To fight brigands, post apocalyptic punks, monsters of the desert, sailed the ships in the red sea sands, meeting Moses, an undead underground facility of death, horror mixed genre with something like from “One Missed Call?” And finale, an argument with a criminal who gets angry for misunderstanding I, saying his mother has an out-tie, “My mother has no out-tie!!!” Yea, these episodes will explain majority of the missing loops to this light novel’s plots.
Dearest my child, I apologetically end.
“My mother has no OUT-TIE!!!” Ahem . . .
Then came the third test as I descended the plains that gradually changed into a well-take forest. Soon it was a night of many days. My stench was great and no piles of water could be found. Miraculously, a storm struck me. Lightning boom and the rain came with its blessings. But it was an overwhelming cry from the heaven. I took a lesser than that of a duck bath and went to seek shelter below a curved rock with a peculiar bus sign out of nowhere. Goodness, is this Hamtaro meets Totoro? Well, I am not complaining. The sign had said that the dream cat bus would arrive in like six days prior to your arrival. I wasn’t sure if I understood it. Or would I like to wait regardless and accumulate drenching moisture between the crevices once again?
My goodness. The little like Hamtaros handed me one of their extra giant plant umbrella hopping on top of one another just to reach my arm length. And I graciously accepted their gift and went my way after an hour had past.
All you would hear is the voice of prince charming agonizing act of a rugged individualist. Explain he about me going through the last of me trial. This is your funny imagination, kid.
Soon I have came upon the outskirt. Presented I, high above the seams of gravel looking down to the cultivated land from the west. The high hill mountains and ridgy terrain did not hoard my scenery. The atmosphere I saw had bend and then I saith, “Lasting Autumn.”