LINESII- Into the Darkness

[Kentharu]

im just going according to what iggy said, and historically, the Iron Age came after the Bronze age (obviously)

i assume the Iron they used was an oxodized form (screw spelling)

 

[~Darkening~]

Birth of a People​

​

Julian[1] stared down the hill at the harbor, jaw dropped in amazement. The boy watched as the port bustled with people, all preparing for the impendent voyage. He flew down the narrow path and into the crowd, dodging the various peoples blocking his path. He made his way past the various market stalls that lined the road to where a large crowd was gathered listening to the Bishop of Ardan, Jais, talking.

“My mind has been troubled lately my brothers. I’ve spent the last three weeks fasting and searching for an answer to our dilemma, an answer hidden in a cloud of fog. And today, that answer finally came to me. Why did the One allow us to be defeated, to be slaughtered, at the hands of these Lengels?

Because it was part of his great plan, of course, for the future of our people. Long has the focus of our people been on other nations rather than our own. We fought war after war, defeated our early enemies, and prospered. But that all changed in the Great War, you see. The One grew not only angry at the Veritasian’s pride and sinning, but, to an extent, with our own people. We helped them, did we not?

So over time the One grew angry with us. He disliked how we tied our own fate with that of other nations- no matter who they were. So he sent warning signs. Veritas was destroyed and Davar suffered its first loss. But the leaders of the nation still did not pay those signs heed and continued their path. They armed for yet another war and began to speak with other nations. The One decided that he could not allow for this to continue, so he struck terror into the hearts of the generals and sealed the fate of the country.

However, the One is very forgiving. Rumors had been circulating throughout the country claiming that an exodus was being planned. Those rumors were false and had no backing. That is, until six months ago when I approached the leader of these Lengels. I personally visited the leader of these Lengels and asked for permission to lead those who wished to leave out of the country. He agreed to allow it.

So what was a once just a rumor has now taken form as a movement. People are flocking to Ardan as we speak, thousands of men, women, and children. From the lowliest fisherman to the highest trader, they all come with their fleets. Like the ancient Emorians and the recent Veritasians, it is now our time to leave this land. So gather your family. Arrange passage on a ship. And prepare for the journey for we are preparing to leave as soon as possible.”

Julian sat on top of a stack of crates, absorbing every word the man spoke. Seconds after the man finished his speech, Julian was gone. The boy ran home and spoke excitedly with his parents.

First Leg

The Bishop strode down the pier, hands clenched together. He wore loose, dark blue robes that fell down to his feet. His silky white hair hung down from the back of his head, tied in the priestly fashion. A gold avien hund down from his neck, hung on a small string tied around his neck. His mouth was clenched shut, eyes boring strait ahead. A large crowd of followers buzzed around him, as if bees drawn to their queen.

The man stepped onto a wooden plank that ran from the pier to his personal ship, the Exile . The ship could be arguably one of the most advanced in the world. It was about the size of an old sloop, but differed that it was made for only four people: the Bishop, his two apprentices, and a servant. A large cabin also existed, a wooden shelter over the deck to protect the men from weather.

The man coughed a little and wiped his mouth wish crimson sash, a consequence given from his age. Nevertheless he made his way to the bow and began to speak to the large crowd with a booming voice. “The time has arrived! Pull up your anchors, release your ropes, and drop your sails! We head north, to the frigid waters. Go now and prepare! We leave at the first break of day!” With that the man turned around and walked frailly into his cabin. The other two men were already sitting around.

“Good morning Your Blessedness.” The servant said quickly, bowing and exiting the room.

The holy man gave the servant a nod and sat down in his large chair. He looked up and gave one of students an order, for which the student took off to complete. Mean while the man picked a large book off a table to his side and began to write in it. He made long, elaborate strokes with a quill dipped in a bottle of ink. He paused halfway through his writing to wipe his mouth after he coughed unexpectedly. A somber mood of silence existed in the room as the man wrote and his apprentice waited.

Seconds later the man returned, dragging Julian along with him. The Bishop looked up from his writing and nodded. Without a sound he indicated with the two men to leave and for Julian to stay. They obliged.

“You can read and write, correct?” The Bishop asked, continuing his pen strokes. The boy nodded and the Bishop, as best as he could, smiled. He dabbled the pen in ink again and scribbled his signature on it. Then he folded it into thirds and sealed it, handing it over to the boy. “Go and follow the instructions. Let no eyes gaze upon it other than your own.” The Bishop coughed again and wiped the red off his chin, sending the boy away.

Second Leg

Julian seized hold off the roped and untied it, releasing the sails from their holds. The whole armada was preparing to disembark from Thula Tux. Men were scurring about, releasing sails and loading the last of the supplies off the dock. The armada had already been there for six month, under the leadership of the Bishop, and was finally ready to leave for the next leg of the journey.

The Malkavains weren’t that bad of a people, excluding their main disbelief in the One. Julian had spent the six months investigating the county, taking in every detail of the country and its lifestyle- recording it all in the small notebook. He wrote down how the Malkavains lived and farmed, how their political establishment was similar to the old Davian one, and how they lived. Their clans and allegiances and of their war with Gammorea. Their main cities and the smaller ones, the population of the nation, and their armed forces- Julian was determined to fully fulfill his obligations to the Bishop.

But after six months, the Bishop finally decided it was time to keep moving. A few families naturally decided to stay behind in Malkavia and settle down there. But their numbers were evened out by freshly converted Malkavians. So with equal numbers, and supplies generously furnished by the Malkavian government, the armada set out once more- this time headed farther north to the frigid nation of Orum.



Excerpt from Julian’s Journal: [4]

“Every day brings something new”- Malkavain quote.​

Despite the whole three months that we have been here, I have yet to actually speak with a Malkavian citizen. Sure I have spoken with countless government officials, tax officials, and with even more high ranking members of society. But yet I have never spoken to the common Malkavian. So I sought out permission to travel to the interior of the country and speak with a farmer. I went to the city of {CITYNAME} and spoke with Ravnah Adrios, a man who farmed a small plot of land.

“Greetings and may the One bless your endeavors[5]1.” I spoke, pulling my journal open while the man returned a greeting. “Can you tell me a little about your lifestyle and beliefs?”

The man nodded a little. “I am the same as your people once were. I wake up at the break of day and tend to my fields. My sons help me with this task while my wife and daughters care for our home. We all pray for guidance from Syon[6] and ask that he would bring us a good crop.”

I scribbled furiously as the man explained. Several times I had to indicate to the man to slow down- translating Malkavian into Davian isn’t an easy task, especially orally. But I managed to get most of his meaning down onto paper and thus we continued. “Do you favor the recent war with Gammorea?”

The man laughed a little and shook his head vigorously up and down. “Wouldn’t you support a war against a people who constantly attacked your own people? They are only getting what they deserve.”

I nodded and wrote it all down and began to wrap the interview up. “What do you think about the future?”

“The future is what it is. Each day brings change that cannot be foreseen and you must adapt to it.”

Third Leg

Except from Julian’s Journal

Imagine the coldest thing you have ever felt and increase it countless times over. Then you’ll have something that resembles the frigid north. The worse winter in Davar pales in comparison to the weather around here. And despite all common sense, the fact there is a culture up here shocks me more than the cold blasts of air.

The land is almost always locked in cold clutches of winter. Why anyone would want to live in these frozen wastelands is beyond me. Through I have noticed that the waters around here posses some of the greatest stocks in the known world. And as such most of its citizens live along the coast and are simple fishermen. Even the capital lays along the coast and as such it was where we stayed.

Orum, they call it. But I must note with some humor that around here it’s known as “Farsen”, or “far away” to indicate the apprentices’ wishes to get us as far away from this land as we can be. The Bishop has been getting worse with each progressing day, and the cold snaps of air are not in his favor. He is confined to his cabin more and more lately and his apprentices are taking over more of his duties. No one is sure how much longer or whether he will survive on this mortal world.

But with the Bishop’s sickness, his position of power has become split. Joel, the senior apprentice of the two, has come out clear as the one in the power position over the armada while Caen, the younger, has taken over the spiritual needs of the people. Joel, unlike his superior, speaks almost everyday to a council of the senior men. They often give him advice beyond his years and the armada continues to go strong.

The stocks of supplies continue to dwindle, despite the recent order from Joel for the people to eat mainly fish. Rations still stay the same as men continuously draw fish from the oceans to support the people. The cooking is done on an ingenious system where earth is put on a slab of stone and then the wood is lit upon the earth, allowing relatively safe cooking on a wooden ship. But despite all the precautions that have been taken, four more ships have been lost to storms this week alone.

Nevertheless we continue onwards, always crossing this glacial desert. Only time ill tell when we re this “Noravlin.” the legends speak of.

After leaving Malkavian, the armada sailed northwards along the coast to Orum, bypassing Gammorea as it did with the Citadel. The armada lingered off the coast of {CITYNAME}, continually fishing while supplies were gathered off the coast. Mainly just various berries that grew in the wastelands along with some plants that grew off the coast.

But during this period Bishop Jais finally passed away from the “red death”[7]. Where he once held supreme power over the armada, his power fragmented after his death. It appeared that the two apprentices of the Bishop, Joel and Caen, would eventually quarrel over power in the early stages. But they both had different interests in the position of Bishop: Joel wanted the power of it and Caen wanted it for the spiritual recognition it brought.

After much compromising, the pair decided to divide the position. Joel would become Bishop and assume power over the armada. Caen would become Archbishop of the Pirian church and assumed control over the church. Thus the government was decided for many centuries. Nevertheless, the armada was still sailing: it had to cross the entire Borus[8] ocean.

It was another three months on the sea before the Armada got sight of land. Within the week the armada had sailed into [CITYNAME]. Due to the fact that most of the armada was Pirian, the head of the Norvalin council met with two dual Bishops as soon as the fleet arrived and agreed to supply the fleet as he could, just to get them to leave.

So within another month the armada set sail again, this time headed south along the coast. Home was within a man’s grasp.

Fourth Leg
Excerpt from Julian’s Journal

We pulled harbor today under Caen’s command. The bishop decided, after many hours of prayer, that the time had come. He ordered the armada to fill into the opening of a river and for the scouts to do their jobs. They brought back remarkable word of their findings:

“This land is still virtually untouched by man.” They proclaimed. “The river runs west some time before turning to the north. Its waters are large and crystal clear- perfect for the new city and harbor. Forests line both sides of the river and could provide fuel for our people during the winters. The ground along this river is extremely fertile, and the One permitting, it could support us with little effort on our behalf. Additionally the native fish to this area are in large stock and of unusual species.

But there isn’t all good news. This area receives a lot of snow during the winter. Unless proper precautions are taken, people might suffer if a harsh winter strikes. But if the proper precautions are taken, then we shall survive and prosper.

Additionally, much of the region has yet to be mapped. Much of the land lies out of our knowledge and thus must be explored.” The man finished, bowing before the Bishop.

The man, surprisingly, dismissed the council that had been summoned and went back to sleep on the decision (or more likely to pray on it). The armada pretty much made camp on the ships, as very few people decided to disembark on the shore. Time moved slowly, however, as everyone waited for Caen’s decision. It turned out to be a short nap, apparently, as the man came out of his cabin just three hours later.

“My people!” The Bishop spoke to his people, smiling widely. “The time has arrived once more! For many months now we have been homeless, wandering the world in search of a new residence. We have finally found that home!

You see, my mind has been clouded by fog ever since we left Ardan. While at first I believed that I may have made a mistake in going with this journey. But the further we went, the more my mind has been released from this fog. And yesterday, after many hours of praying to the One, the final pieces of this fog have been lifted away!

With this sign from the One, I am sure that this where he wants us to settle and form a new society. We will build a new city, a holy city, around this river that shall be known as Vael Dash[9]. Also, after those hours of praying, I have met with my council and we have decided to name this region “Arcadia” [10] along with the new river “Rydos”.

Excerpt from Julian’s journal

“Along this river we will form a new beginning.”​

Bishop Caen”

We are finally home once more. Well, that’s what the bishop has been proclaiming lately. He’s been striding around lately, actually joking with people and laughing. The armada has finally been disbanded, and construction of the city has begun.

People spent the first day rejoicing and generally laying around. A few of the more intelligent men set off immediately and began to stake their claims. Everyone was working on the second day, knocking trees down and laying the foundations to their homes. On the third day the farms were first laid down. We laid the foundation for our own home on the fourth day- right along the Rydos, prime land given by the Bishop. It’s not even that shabby, if you believe my word.

More news. The old Bishop Jais was “buried” in a large grave where the river turns into a bay. The new Bishop has promoted me from record-keeper to full-fledged historian after the last one died on the third leg. Some of the people were shocked that he did it, but who really cares what others think? I spend most of my time writing now, keeping records of the new happenings.

The biggest thing so far is that scouts found several tribes of natives living along the far upper banks. The scouts showed off their various trinkets and objects, apparently impressing the natives. The Bishop already agreed to accept the people into the city if they convert, something that seems likely by how amazed the natives were by the scouts.

I am finished with this book of our history with this last entry. I’ve already reread over it and I must profess that I’m shocked by what has occurred. The fact that so many packed up their belongings and traveled for so long to reach a new home is amazing. I’m not sure of what good things the future may bring, nor what evil it may bring. But the one thing that I know is that: It’s good to be home.

A Winter Eden-Robert Frost[11]

A winter garden in an alder swamp,
Where conies now come out to sun and romp,
As near a paradise as it can be
And not melt snow or start a dormant tree.

It lifts existence on a plane of snow
One level higher than the earth below,
One level nearer heaven overhead,
And last year's berries shining scarlet red.

It lifts a gaunt luxuriating beast
Where he can stretch and hold his highest feat
On some wild apple tree's young tender bark,
What well may prove the year's high girdle mark.

So near to paradise all pairing ends:
Here loveless birds now flock as winter friends,
Content with bud-inspecting. They presume
To say which buds are leaf and which are bloom.

A feather-hammer gives a double knock.
This Eden day is done at two o'clock.
An hour of winter day might seem too short
To make it worth life's while to wake and sport.



[1] Julian- Name taken from the Davian “Julius”, “to write”. The character will be featured extensively in my next story and play a prominent role.
[2] Aviens are typically cast from bronze or copper. The’re eight-pointed stars that refer to the One being everywhere. Typically the only person having an avien not cast from bronze or copper is the Bishop (head of the Pirian Church) who holds a gold one, indicating his position. In the old times an Elector or a high ranking general may have held a silver one.
[3]: “Your Blessedness”- Substituted for “Your Holiness”
[4]: Much of the interview has been excluded to save time.
[5] “Good day to you and may the One bless your endeavors”- greeting common within Old Davar.
[6] Syon: I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen Emu write a story about religion. So I just improvised. IC it’s the name of the being the Malkavians worship in translated Davian.
[7] “Red Death”- tuberculosis.
[8] “Borus” Ocean: the Davian name for the sea between Orum and Norvalin, standing for “Black”.
[9] Vael Dash: “New Beginning”.
[10] Arcadia: OOC: look it up in wiki and you’ll gain a large clue.
[11] Reminded me of how Iggy described the area.

The government of Arcadia works this way: The Bishop has complete power over the nation except for spiritual issues in which the Archbishop has power.

What? You didn’t expect a good story, did you? Oh well. This thing is close to eight full pages long- not to mention that I rushed around half of it. But right now I’m exhausted and I’ve got other stories to push out, so I had to end it. Hopefully it wasn’t that bad. Sorry for getting your hopes up.

Why doesn't anyone flee over the Western Sea instead?

Because I'd kinda have to flee over the entire world?

 

[jalapeno_dude]

Why doesn't anyone flee over the Western Sea instead?

 

[~Darkening~]

OMG. How tired am I?

 

[Contempt]

I am now alone. My father, the only one who ever understood, was dead. I take his title now with a heavy heart, knowing of the events to come. I felt it deep within me, before I ever truly knew. I think he did too. It burns greater than ever now that I am Lengelzai, now that I see Koke in my waking dreams.

I fear for my sanity, as visions and events unspoken come unbidden to my eyes. Events that I have not heard, even in the whispers I hear in the dark of night. Battles yet unwon fill my every being, and questions without answers plaugue my mind. I understand now, why my father feared for me. Hoped that I would not take his path.

I regret it, just a little.

But it was his dying wish. I saw it within his eyes, that burning question he wanted me to seek. The fire that raged within me since I first saw the stars. Since I first truly saw the world as it was meant to be seen. When I wandered the plains, saw an eagle soar, free in the skies.

I was a fool to want it.

I enjoy it still, even with the responsibility and the dreams. I feel the hopes and expectations of my people weigh down upon me, and I wish only to let them go, and return to the shadows, return to being unknown. But I cannot let them go. They latch unto me until their desire becomes my own. My people fuel me, even as they crush me with their weight. Such is the burden of leadership.

My father made it his strength, and I suppose that I will learn to do the same.

They say that experience will give me strength, but I do not listen. Strength will not be gained until I deal with true adversity, as my father did upon the battle field. I lived through the steppe, yes, but that adversity merely shaped me. In order to truly become Lengelzai, I must be broken. Reforged like hot bronze in the burning fire of my chest.

My father never broke.

He was to strong to break, I think. Indomitable, and cunning. At the very end it broke him, but during his reign he was too active, too intelligent to let it forge him into the title. He was always Jebe first, Lengelzai second. Perhaps that is the way we were meant to live.

I will not have that luxury.

There are unspoken words, hovering in the dark. Images burned into my eyes, keeping dreams of green pastures from my tired mind. Molten lava burns in my veins, and I cannot rest. I know why. My father knew too. He was like me once, but he was stronger. He bent before he broke, but I will not.

I am already breaking.

The pressure, the information, the lies and the games. Whispers in darkness, smiles given in daylight. Words unsaid, letters unwritten. Dreams of burning cities, of slain warriors in the Sky. Koke wakes me, and I know. I will not last long, before I am ready to break. Before I am ready to become what I was meant to.

Koke guides me down this path.

A path I am frightened to travel. It is a path of hardship, and a path of many pivotal decisions. I think that Koke means to prepare me for those moments through this. Plans to make me ready for what is coming. Strong enough to reforge myself from the ashes, strong enough to lead the Lengel through trubulent times.

Perhaps one of my brothers means to start a civil war?

No, I do not think it. I have ears even with my brother, and he does not wish to march against the might of my loyal generals, and my loyal armies. Not that anyone is not loyal in the nation of Lengel. We are all loyal to some degree. Loyal to Koke, loyal to family, loyal to an idea.

Lengels are an idea.

It is true. We are more than a nation, more than an army. We are an idea, a united, final culture for all who wish for it. For all who feel the fire burn within their chest. An ideal. Unification. Glory. Honor. Battle. Words that define exactly what a Lengel is, and what we will always be.

Words that broke me.

I am but a shell of myself now. My hopes and dreams lay crushed underneath the weight. I understood, when I ran my father through what being Lengelzai would do to me. And I took it anyway. I grasped at its flame like Citadel grasps for truth.

And it burned.

I am but a shell now, a shell for the fire of the Lengel. The words echo within me now. The words that define us. My eyes have seen it, my ears have heard it, but I cannot stop what is coming. The bonfire drives me forward, ever towards destiny.

When the times comes, I will ask.

And my question will be answered. But not yet. Not yet. I am but a shell for the Lengel, and am I now charging forward, ladden with the unspoken words upon every Lengel's lips. The fire that burns beneath their skin now burns in me. And I cannot contain it. I am burning brightly, and I cannot help by draw moths to my flame.

The time is near. I cannot stop it. It broke me, and then reforged me. I am greater than I was before. Stronger, more in tune with my people. Koke is ever present with me, and I think my people feel it. And are drawn to it. I cannot stop it now. I could have.

But I did not want to.

 

[jalapeno_dude]

Going insane, Contempt?

OOC: I see you changed your avatar back.

 

[Contempt]

Going insane, Contempt?

OOC: I see you changed your avatar back.

There is a thin line between Genius and insanity. In this case, it is Genius spurred on by religous enlightenment

And yes, I changed my avatar back cause it does look cooler

 

[jalapeno_dude]

There is a thin line between Genius and insanity. In this case, it is Genius spurred on by religous enlightenment

"The border between genius and insanity is less of a border than a union."

 

[Cuivienen]

I sit in the playroom, holding a doll in my hand. I can remember when it was my doll, when I pretended that it was the handsome prince I would marry and rule Kehexou alongside. I first found the doll in the playroom when I was three years old myself, and I immediately took to it. I can remember being so enthralled that I did not even notice my father watching in the doorway with his knowing smile until I turned to leave.

Now the roles are reversed, in a way. My son is the same age I was, and I have watched him playing with new dolls I have given him much the way my father once watched me. And my Kaxado is so alike to his grandfather: calm and quiet. He was never a fussy baby, and the wet nurse herself had commented on how well-bred the Mayanas family must be. Of course, she would not have dared say anything else to a princess and future queen, but it was then that I first began to notice the more subtle similarities between them as well.

I wonder now if Kaxado imagines the beautiful doll of porcelain, a treasure acquired from Nurmaferan merchant, is his future wife, a beautiful and charming princess to be Queen of Kehexou herself one day. I wonder sometimes then if I will find a bride for Kaxado as wonderful as the husband my father found for me, and if they will love each other as we do. It is hard to bear, having a young child, I see now, and worrying about the future. Where shall I find a woman worthy of being Queen of Kehexou?

Someday, I may find out. Now, however, it grows late, and Kaxado has long ago been taken off to bed. I am alone in the playroom, reveling in my own memories and considering the future, and no light now enters the windows. Tomorrow I will have the same worries as today, but I will also have the same memories to give me strength.

 

[das]

"The border between genius and insanity is less of a border than a union."

Amen. Great stories as usual, Contempt. Almost a shame that your empire will fall.

 

[Silver Steak]

Amen. Great stories as usual, Contempt. Almost a shame that your empire will fall.

Indeed it is. Have you sent orders yet, das? Check your inbox.

 

[das]

I did send orders. Do not worry about you-know-what.

 

[Silver Steak]

Ghood! Now I can backstab you, with leisure! Kekekekekekee

EDIT: Errr, you know that I'm just kidding, right? Orders sent.

 

[Contempt]

Amen. Great stories as usual, Contempt. Almost a shame that your empire will fall.

But is that not the fate of great Empires? Yet even as my empire falls to decay, to stagnation, to outside attack, I will fight until I can fight no more. For they may...

kill you, pierce your mortal shell with arrows, or even let your guts splash against the heavy air! The Ends of our mortal bodies may be here in this battle, but fear not, for the very memory of us will stir them to fear for an eternity! To battle!

 

[Oruc]

why would they fear you if they beat you? wouldnt it mean they are the ones to fear?

 

[Contempt]

why would they fear you if they beat you? wouldnt it mean they are the ones to fear?

No, what the quote is saying that even if they manage to kill us, the causalties and destruction we have wrought would make them fear the name Lengel for all eternity.

 

[das]

Errr, you know that I'm just kidding, right?

You were? Damn, so I rewrote my orders for nothing.

 

[Oruc]

No, what the quote is saying that even if they manage to kill us, the causalties and destruction we have wrought would make them fear the name Lengel for all eternity.

no matter how much destruction you cause if your all dead/running away what does it matter? they will merely remember you as a bunch of guys who challenged above their station.

 

[Contempt]

no matter how much destruction you cause if your all dead/running away what does it matter? they will merely remember you as a bunch of guys who challenged above their station.

No, they'll remember me as a nation that destroyed and conquered four nations, a more sucessful version of the Eldranians, if you will.

 

[Oruc]

No, they'll remember me as a nation that destroyed and conquered four nations, a more sucessful version of the Eldranians, if you will.

well all this hearsay really, it really depends on what they write about Lengels in their stories and how they view you not how you want to be viewed.