279 lines
16 KiB
Plaintext
279 lines
16 KiB
Plaintext
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[] The Blab Fantasy novel-Ripped off and edited by The Slipped Disk. []
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[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
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This is the Fantasy Novel. Bear the burden wisely. It is the land of
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Fantasia, where anything and anything is the effect of someone's imagination.
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The mind controls all. Wizards and sorcerors fill the land along with many
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other creatures of many different races. Hobbits, Orcs, and even Smurfs, just
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to name a few. The land was green and blooming with all sorts of flowers and
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berries, for it was Spring, and the little creatures were gathering food. And
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one fateful night, a baby human was born with the gift of sorcery that was
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inherited be every other son in his family. His name was Timkin, and he had a
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lot to learn ahead of him.
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The twang of the long yew bow was followed quickly by the swish of the
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brightly feathered arrow. The blond youth stifled a gasp as the arrow imbedded
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itself in the tree directly in front of his head. Dropping into a crouch, the
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ing blue eyes into the brush. With a wave of his hand, the boy caused the
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arrow to pull itself out of the tree and fly back whence it came.
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Thinking to himself that this would be the last time he could actually go out
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and practice, he should make the best of it. It was his time of "Hurrjik".
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Anyone youth who becomes sixteen years must go out into the forest and prove
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himself a man. His time was near, as
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by first light tommorow, he would reach
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16 years. He knew of the responsibility, but did not fear it. His powers
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were stronger than the usual, and he
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believed he would do well.
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The boy stood up and slowly walked back to the village. He greeted an old
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woman who was sitting near the village walls.
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"Good day to you, old Mutretha. How are you?"
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The old woman looked up and frowned. "I am as well as I will ever be. And
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what of you, boy? Are you ready for
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your test, tommorow?"
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"I am ready, old woman. The power will help me as I see fit."
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"Be not naive, boy. The power in you is that of a egg, as to a dragon.
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You were gifted to be born with the power, but learning to use it is another
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tale."
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"I have learned well through your tutorings. Is that not enough?"
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"Ha! Simple conjuring tricks. What will happen when you need to turn
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silver into water? Can you do that, boy?"
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The boy's face filled with rage. "Enough of this. I waste my time talking
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to and old hag."
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He started off toward his dwelling.
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"One thing, boy." He stopped and looked around.
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"When you find the silver rod, be not greedy. Many have longed for such
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a prize, and have never been seen again."
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"Silver rod? What is this nonsense?"
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"You will know when you find it. And one last thing---"
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"What?" said the boy intently.
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"The power in you can do your bidding. But it can also be turned against
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you." she said.
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He stood there for a moment, staring at the old woman who he really cared
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about, even though they argued a lot.
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She seemed to drift off into a deep sleep. The boy stood to leave and took
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her hand. "Thank you" he said. When the woman didn't reply, he looked down
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at her face. "Old Woman?"
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"Take the ring," she said. In her hand lay a golden ring with a strange
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symbol on it.
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"Wear it, always. And do not give in to the temptations of evil." With
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that she slumped forward and collapsed. He knelt beside her, listening for a
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heart-beat. There was none.
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Cursing quietly to the gods, he turned the ring over in his hand. While
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the symbol seemed not to have been anything designed by a human mind, the
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stone looked like a normal piece of quartzite, albeit a highly poilished,
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many-faceted piece. He wasn't sure, but he thought he glimpsed something,
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maybe a small flaw, inside the stone. In any event, it was too small a flaw
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to see unless one was looking closely.
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Standing up, he put the ring on his right pinky finger, which was the only
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finger it would fit on. Cursing again the gods that took the old woman, he
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started toward the Dwelling of Healing. Those inside would deal with the
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corpse.
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The boy Timkin wandered off to confer with the village elders as to how to
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care for the corpse in a way that their race had been accustomed to. But,
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though he was saddened, he found this death to be a new beginning. He was the
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apprentice who would carry on her teachings, and he would prove all this
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tomorrow at "the testing".
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He had heard that there was to be a grand competition among the youngers of
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his race to see who would fulfill the quest that his tutor had briefly alluded
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to. They would meet in the grand hall of the kingdom and try to puzzle one
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another with tricks until one was proclaimed a winner by topping and baffling
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all others--a grand tournament! But, that's all he knew since it was a long
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time since the last such event.
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As night approached, he hurried back to his own dwelling and practiced his
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magic a little as he chanted in strange verse, creating a bed, pillow, and
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other things that began to fly around the room. At last (these things are
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tiring on the mind & soul), Timkin slept with the anticipation of the big day
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to come.
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That night, a lonely unicorn grazed near the village. She had been told that
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a boy would come to him the next day, and she had instructions to take him to
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Mafher's lair.
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As he slept, his dreams began to take him to places that were not yet known
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to his waking being. He saw the sea, with white capped waters over the deep
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blue. He saw an occasional ship pass silently across the water, wind its sails
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yet, crew was seen. Timkin saw land beginning to form ahead of him, and he
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could hear the shrill call of a tern, as it scavenged the beaches for food.
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Then he awas in a thick, dark jungle. Deeper into the jungle he was drawn,
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until the light of the sun was totally shaded from sight by the thick foliage.
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Timkin heard a voice calling him, as he saw a clearing. As he drifted closer,
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he could barely make out a strange looking obelisk in the center of this little
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sun drenched clearing in the middle of the jungle's darkest reaches. Again he
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heard his name being called, only this time the voice grew louder. Timkin then
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opened his eyes, and realizing it was just a dream, rolled over and tried to go
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back to sleep. But he heard the voice call him again. It seemed to come from
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in his room.
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"Timkin! Timkin, awake! I It is the time!" said her mother.
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Timkin's eyes shot open. A glowing aura encircled his body. "I am awake,
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Mother."
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She looked at him proudly. His tall, well built chest, strong muscles, and
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a face beaming with intelligence, he had a very good chance of passing he test.
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He arose and pulled his tunic over his chest. His hands went to a symbol
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embroided on his left breast. A unicorn with a halo around it's head, since he
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was a boy the symbol had always been a mystery. Now he had the feeling he
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would find out what it was about. He started to wash his face and chest. He
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started to walk to the Grand Hall where the tournament would take place. As he
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got nearer, he saw many young lads preforming tricks with the greatest of ease.
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Some were pretty simple, like making eggs fly around in thin air ot or perhaps
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making a stone bleed. Some of the more complex were those of changing one's
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form and doing incredible acrobatic feats. The latter scared Timkin a little,
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but he felt he didn't have much to fear since he was confident in his training.
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There were many wizened elder standing by giving hints to their apprentices
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while the middle-aged people were betting on who would be the winner.
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As he entered the Great Hall, timkin shivered slightly, but was able to
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repress more noticeable reaction to the obvious tension in the hall. A hush of
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silence took over the room, but he wasn't sure if it was related to his
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entrance. A village elder, a priest, took him by the arm almost as soon as he
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entered, and Timkin wondered if he were late. Everyone else was already seated
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as though waiting for him. The Hall was nearly one hundred meters in length,
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domed at the top by a darkened hemisphere. The area in the center, basically a
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dirt floor, was entirely empty with the exception of a small glass sphere lying
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in the dirt in the center. Rising on one side of the Hall were the spectator
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stands where the entire village, with no exception - save old Baldimir - sat in
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tense silence. Above the spectators at each level of padded stone benches were
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massive wall sconces housing bright fires that kept the entire room above the
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level of darkness, but only barely. On the sice opposite the seats were
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sixteen doors placed at regular intervals, and the one heavy bronze door at the
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center. Each of the doors led to the chamber of one of the village elders, but
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he had never seen the center door used. This, he suspected that might change
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this day. The priest drew him to the center, just behind the glass globe,
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facing the audience. The priest bowed and walked away slowly, smoothing out
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his cloak in an uncharacteristic expression of agitation. A distinct chill
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shot through Timkin's back as the globe glowed breifly, and he felt compelled
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to turn around. The Bronze door had parted, in the middle, and swept a wave of
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chill air into the arena. Timkin strode surely towards the gaping blackness
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beyond the double doors, feeling the weight of the darkness and the audience's
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silence heavily. As he passed beyond the threshold, he had time for one quick
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glance backwards before the doors came solidly shut, as if there had never been
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a part between them. For an interminable length of time, young Timkin walked
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aimlessly, wondering whether he had trudged miles, or only inches. It made no
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difference, he thought. There was no distinction in this place.
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The sleeping unicorn's eyes shot open. Standing in front of her was an
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old, wickid figure with an auroa of evil. She jumped to her hooves and bowed
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in respect.
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"You, Hyuteri. You must now go and find the boy," said the figure.
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"He is the son of my Father's rider. I will not let him be harmed," said
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the unicorn.
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The ancient figure glared at her. His entire being began to glow with
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hatred.
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At long last, young Timkin saw a cool glow coming from a distinct direction.
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He approached it slowly, feeling its cold take over his emotions, toy with his
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growing frustration. But he kept walking, oblivious to how he was being
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manipulated.
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Meanwhile, out in the arena, all eyes were focused on the glass globe in the
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center. It had taken on an ambigious half-glow, and settled there. The deadly
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silence which permeated the room was broken only by an occasional cough or
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wheeze. But not a single eye among the tens of thousands wavered in its
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expectant survey of the small glass globe. The cool but comfortable air that
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circulated in the room seemed to have magical qualities, though it was largely
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the same air that had been here for the last use of the arena, seventy-three
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years ago. It seemed only a few moments later that the globe flickered breifly
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and then returned to its previous state. Everyone in the room drew in a
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breath, as the entire assembly shared both mind and body. But it was the globe
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that was the center of attention. It flickered brighter for a second and then
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nearly died. Then, it came back brighter than ever, and died out once more.
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With every minute change in its glow, the apprehension in the room grew. No
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one dared take their eyes from the globe for even a fraction of a second. It
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brightened, then withdrew, then brightened, then dimmed once again. The
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patterns were random, indecipherable. A few of the faint of heart collapsed
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near the upper levels. The room itself seemed to spin every time the globe
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underwent another of its wild fluctuations. The rest of the room blurred to
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the audience as the globe became the only thing left in the world. The globe,
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and the door too. The door behind it was unremitting in its harshness.
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Suddenly, the light wavered, then shone out like it had never done before, even
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in all its eternal past, and held. The stifled gasps were barely held in check
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and some of the onlookers had to concentrate hard to remain conscious. The
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globe had become a beacon in the darkness, and now lit up the entire room, in
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all its immensity. The silence that took the room was sudden and undeniable.
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It was forty minutes later than the giant bronze doors opened to the tiniest of
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cracks. Bleary eyes lit up with expectation, unaffected by the relentlessness
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of the vigil. Without warning, the doors nearly burst at their ancient seams.
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They slammed against the wall, and shattered, scattering bronze splinters about
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the arena. A hush fell over the crowd. At first, the doorway was empty, and
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no one dared breathe. Then, without warning, Timkin stepped out and raised his
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arms high above his head. The crowd cheered deafeningly. This was the night
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of Timkin, and as he strode to the center of the arena and raised the orb high
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above his head, all watched in awe. Their new leader had been born.
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Koora completed the Dawn Rites. She picked up her small pack, and donned the
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cloak that marked her as a journeywoman preistess, then proceeded to the path.
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The road was not well worn; it was ragged from newness and unscarred by wagon
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wheels. Not unusual, for her training took her far from the School. To be a
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student of Light entailed being magistrate, healer, and teacher as well as
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servant of the power. She loved it in spite of the demands. It was a joy
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helping tend harmony. She smelled the earthy air appreciatively. From the
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corner of her eye, Koora noticed a raven. Watching, she increased her pace,
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then stopped quickly, feingning a trip. Yes, the bird was following her. For
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what purpose the Dark had sent one of it's minions, she did not know, but an
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instinctive fear stirred within her. She ran, and felt a sharp biting pain on
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her shoulder.
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Koora screamed in terror. A loud squawk was heard as the raven perched upon
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her shoulder, the claws digging into her flesh. Koora fell to the ground, too
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surprised to use any of her powers, and just then, the bird flew around her and
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landed in front of her on the path, blocking her way. then, the raven began to
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grow, changing first into a blackish blob which grew bigger and began to rise
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as a column of smoke formed around it. As the figure began to take shape, it
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appeared to be in the form of a male creature of some human form with an
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elaborate green and red costume with bells at the top....and little feet that
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looked like they belonged to Kermit the frog. obviously, this guy wasn't an
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evil being! He kneeled down, and said in a magical language that only Koora
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could translate..."I have been ordered to deliver something to you." She tried
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to still her inner turmoil before glancing upward. After acheiving some slight
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calm she picked herself up, cataloging the damages she had ceived.
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"What is it you bear? Surely you know I do not accept the gifts of
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dakrness." She mentally scanned the individual, and to her surprise
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encountered a
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complete block. This was new! Not a though, not a single residue of emotion
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escaped from behind the barrier! She yearned to know more, but knew she would
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not. The Power forbade prying. She would have to wait, and learn. The
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creature responded....
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"I am only a messenger...you are needed..you must heed our commands as only a
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person of your powers would fulfill our purpose."
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with these words, the funny-looking creature made a few strange gestures and
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mumbled a few incantations, and
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a large crate appeared on the ground. "This will contain all the information
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you will need..
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remember, you really don't have any choice, but to follow our
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command...besides, we will make it worth your while"
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and he vanished, leaving behind only the crate...and from inside, a strange
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sort of growling sounds were heard.
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