A collaborative effort in creative writing.
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A collaborative effort in creative writing. |
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June 2001 Collaboration Fantasy Gamepiecesby Laura of ~Snerkology~First it was the darkness. The sunlight that would wink out like a lamp being placed under a basket - sometimes it would remain dark for hours, other times the light would suddenly come back after only a moment. Nighttime and daytime hours held no distinction after a time, no one could anticipate whether the sun or the moon would shine in the sky at any given moment. The valley's inhabitants were just learning to deal with this particular freakish behavior of the natural order of things, when a new problem occurred. Normally docile animals grew teeth and horns and attacked without provocation. Cows became carnivores. Domesticated cats grew inches - sometimes feet - overnight to become dangerous predators. Swallows grew talons and attacked anyone who left their homes. The people lived in fear of their lives as victims were mauled or snatched entirely away from public areas, in broad daylight. Finally, the skies discontinued their varying between day and night, and became a complete, sickening orange. Roiling clouds that burbled sudden violent hughes of purple and blue. Near constant lightning that froze what it struck instead of burned. Fleeing people became solid statues of ice that wouldn't melt, their faces frozen in a rictus of fear, their mouths paused in the midst of a soundless scream. The panicked populace turned in desperation to the Elders of their religious sect. Their simple ceremonies and sacrifices to the gods of the valley and surrounding mountains, that had always seemed to bring appeasement and good fortune, now had no effect. Years of tranquility were shattered in a matter of weeks and everyone wondered what it was they did, or neglected to do, to bring this current calamity upon them. The Elders themselves were shaken to the core of their beliefs. Never in the history of their civilization had such events occurred, and since they had no basis for comparison, they had no idea how to deal with the current state of affairs. Sacrifices were stepped up - from the usual rabbit or lamb, to the now violent cows and oxen. Supplications were offered constantly - junior priests promoted with unprecedented speed in order to be able to participate and spell the exhausted chanters. The population had already been decimated by one third, with no end in sight. Used to a simple lifestyle and bountiful conditions, the people were simply unable to adjust to their world turned upside down. Late one evening, during a secret meeting of the highest appointed Elders, a drastic decision was made. Since none of their normal methods were affecting these very abnormal circumstances, a change must be in order. A sacrifice of the highest magnitude would have to be made. The high priest's wife had just given birth to The Appointed One - the blessed and prophesied child who would take up the leadership of their civilization when the high priest passed on. Many years had passed before the child was conceived, and everyone had breathed a sigh of relief when the woman finally showed signs of pregnancy. The much anticipated birthing was met with celebration and feasting, and occurred mere days before the calamities began. The timing could not be ignored. It was quite obviously a sign of what they must do. The woman wept uncontrollably as she delivered her beloved son into his father's arms. The high priest touched the side of her face, gravely, then turned to begin his journey up the path to the peak of the Sacred Mountain - the highest point where a believer can be closest to his god. His feet moved slowly but determinedly up the rocky path, his burden weighing light in his arms but heavy on his soul. He went alone, the rest of the village's inhabitants either watching gravely at the base of the mountain, or hiding in fear in their dwellings. The baby lay quietly in his arms, alternately staring up at him with dark liquid eyes, or sleeping peacefully. The priest wept silently, tears falling from wide open eyes as he traversed the path. Finally, after several hours, he reached his destination. He began his supplications. He rested the baby on a blanket and bathed it in sweet oils, chanting the most powerful words available to his vast knowledge. He knelt with his arms raised, child held tenderly in his hands, and begged his god to remember his loyal worshippers. Finally, he stood. Approaching the edge of the precipice, the high priest first gazed at his village far below, then at his beloved son. He kissed the downy head one final time as the child chuckled, tickled by his father's beard. Then, reaching out over the cliff, the high priest prepared to make the highest sacrifice known to his people. ******************** A boy stood in front of a vast table containing a very complicated, lifelike model. The model showed a village in great detail, complete with buildings and temples, and people. Surrounding the village were various mountain peaks, creating a valley in which the village resided. The figures and buildings were scattered, where there once had obviously been order. Small fingers poised to flick two tiny figures off a mountain peak, the boy was interrupted in his play by a stern, shrill voice. "What are you doing?" his mother demanded. The boy's arms shot to his sides as he turned around, guilty. "Your father is going to tan your behind when he comes home and finds you messing with his civilization. You know you're not supposed to be in here!" The mother approached the boy and inspected the damage. She plucked the figures from the peak and set them in the center of the model village, and began righting toppled figures and buildings. "Well, it's nothing that can't be fixed, but the rest of it will have to wait until your father can do it. You really must treat your father's projects with more respect," she lectured, leading the boy out of the room and closing the door firmly behind her. |