The
Old One Speaks
I
remember it clearly, the day it happened… the day the Old One spoke. Had I not
witnessed it myself, I would never have believed it. The truth is, on that day,
nothing out of the ordinary really occurred. It was simply that I saw things more
clearly. Thinking back on it, I feel that that day just proved where ignorance
is bliss, knowledge is poison.
It
was a depressing day. News about the impending war went on eternally, as if set
to an infinite loop. Crime was at its peak, and that didn’t really help the
mood. Those were bleak times, and I needed to take my mind off the seemingly
hopeless situation that seemed to be developing.
At
times like those, my favorite retreat was the cliff-top. The cliff overlooked
both the Cheshire Sea and my hometown of Pandora. There would always be a
gentle breeze, and standing there made me feel that the all my sorrows caught
the wind and flew away into the distance. So I made my way to the small path
that led up the cliff.
I
heard it before I saw it. At first, it seemed to be the wind, blowing through
the crevices. But as I got closer to the top, it took clearer definition- the
voice of a man. I finally hauled myself onto the clearing. There, at the very
edge of the cliff, stood the old priest, whose name nobody knew, despite the
fact that he was the head priest of the church and had been so for over a
decade now. He appeared to be in a trance, talking to himself-
“……
will not last long. This world is doomed. Chaos will overthrow order. The Fall
is inevitable, heroes will fail. The darkest hour is approaching, and the gods
abandon us. And but one hero, haunted by dreams will rise above the decay, and
inherit the cruel fate of mankind. Only he can……”
He
spoke as if he were possessed. I felt obliged to interrupt him, not wanting to
hear more of…… more of whatever it was that he was speaking of. And as I got
closer, the air turned colder. Before I got to him, he turned. And I saw it in
his eyes- a glow so old, so impressive, I cannot compare it to anything. And then
he spoke the words which haunt me to this day, for the way he spoke them-
“The
Old One speaks. I hear his voice, carried by the zephyr.”
For
three months, I had terrible nightmares about the incident. I couldn’t even
bring myself to enter the church again. I couldn’t make sense of what he’d
said, but I still felt scared at the thought itself. But it wasn’t until the
war began that I came to realize what words meant.
Being
an ill-protected part of the nation, the enemy army landed in Pandora, by the
very sea that had protected us for so long. And then it happened. All the
people who were precious to me, all that I loved, all that I cared for stood on
the brink of destruction. That’s when the ever gentle zephyr turned violent, as
if sensing the urgency of the situation. I began to bend around me blowing for
all that it was worth, till I could no longer see what was around. I couldn’t
feel the sun above me, or the ground blow me, just the wind around me.
When it finally cleared,
I found myself in the middle of a vast expanse of desert-land, devoid, utterly,
of any life save for myself. The sun glared down upon the…..
(Compiled from the last pages of
the diary of Yamato, of Pandora, the one who restored peace to the world by
inheriting a dreadful prophecy which was originally intended for the entire
human race. He was the hero who rose above all and alone bore the burden of
humanity’s fate)
Tune in on Sunday (10/08/2014) for the first chapter of The Fantasia of the Moonlit World
(chapter 1- "The Profound Night")
superb!
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