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The End of Grieving Page 8
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the inevitable collapse by about fifty years."
Glad made a move to interject.
"But! You simply wouldn't live long enough to see it happen. Your life would be in total ruin by this time next year, locked in a dungeon for thirty years until you died of scurvy. Of course your time in the dungeon wouldn't be too terrible, you will have rats for friends and such."
Glad didn't move.
"What would happen if you simply took him from the dungeon? Could we still delay the eventual collapse?" Marylin asked.
The boy fell back against the dirt in frustration.
"It would add about three weeks."
"What if we-"
"Alright stop! Stop, please. We've laid down the terms and our reasons, we are the God of knowledge and creation, listen as we tell you this. This very moment is the most important moment in your people's history, do not squander it with questions."
The boy gestured vaguely towards the air where a small portal opened up to a well-lit chamber.
"Go in or don't go in."
Glad and Marylin looked to each other unsure, "If we do this, will you promise us we will be doing to world a favor?"
"Mandrake?"
"To believe in something greater than yourself is a cause worthy of all. I would advise you to choose quickly."
Glad walked to the portal, "Marylin, take my hand."
She hesitated before placing taking his hand, "I trust you Glademier." And together they walked through the portal.
The boy practically screamed his pent up frustration, "That was horrible! Don't choose people with so much honor next time!" He threw his castle at the wall of the estate.
Mandrake simply shrugged and continued to look at him with his owlish eyes.
You look at the sky, it has been years since the raids on the city and things have changed. The most high had been assassinated to be replaced with a much more repulsive body of flesh. The recruits had become blood thirsty and venomous, eating away at each other in the later stages. The city has become a breeding ground of deceit and death.
Often times you've been tempted to leave for the land across the waters, there is freedom there, freedom enough to rid you of the horrible things people do every day. It would be simple, all you would need is a short leave of the city and enough money to pay the fair across the water. You could manage this and still make it away before the most high sent his men to bring you back.
You sigh within yourself, such things would bring stability to your life but not happiness. You have a duty to this generation, a duty to save as many as you can before they become corrupt like their fathers and brothers.
The raid had been important in your eyes, you had saved so many from the cruel world you live in. They were better off dead or servants than the slaving farmers they had become.
You rationalize this to yourself often, hoping beyond hope you've done good at the command of your master.
The sun is halfway past the mountains now, the same sun you've seen for the last thirty years of your life. Eventually it passes over, leaving the world dark and desolate.
You head back inside, the chill air beginning to take hold once the sun is gone.
The moon is bright tonight, you tell yourself. But you stop.
The moon passes over head much faster than before, crossing the horizon in only a few minutes. You turn back, and rest against the stone wall overlooking the city.
The moon returns again and continues across the sky. Your heart begins to beat, faster than before. The time was coming, you think, the sign has been given. The world is going to collapse under its own strain and corruption.
You run back inside, already knowing the end of the legend.
A giant bird and a small boy stand in your chambers, watching you.
The bird speaks, "Terrance, it is time to go."
You bow low, lower and more sincerely than to any before.
The boy eyes you reproachfully, "Dude, get real. We're God's not kings."
You stand quickly, feeling slightly embarrassed for something you don't understand.
"Do you remember what the legend says?"
You nod your head, it is well within your right to know, "On the night of the three moons, the boy and the bird shall appear. To take what is rightfully theirs, to save the kingdom far ahead from the world it will create."
Mandrake nods his head, "We have gathered many others for this war. Several of whom you know quite well, and many whom share your love of this world."
The boy points to the wall. A large portal shifts eerily in the darkness.
"Will I need anything my God's?"
Mandrake spoke, "Only that which you carry."
You nod, and walk into the portal.
Deep within the high mountains a single soul fights the bitter cold. His name is Hayuka, a thief and a rogue, hidden from the eyes of the Inquirer and wanted dead by the most high.
He seeks refuge for the night, having lost his shelter to the fatal crevices of the drifts.
Tonight he thinks only of survival, but tomorrow he will join the cause of a thousand worlds to create peace on a planet that has only known strife.
These four heroes will be brought together by the gods of knowledge and creation in the hopes that they will finish what the masters of time cannot; peace among the inhabitants of the Earth, that mighty battle ground that defines the universe and its laws. Perhaps in time we will know the end, but for now we are left with a desire that they will save us, and keep us from our own destruction.