After lots of soul searching and knitting time, I am deciding to post my Nanowrimo story that I did in ’06. I will be doing it in chapters, starting with this prologue. It will involve some of my oldest characters, a few new ones, and maybe other ones.
It will take place in the universe I have written of before, with the Bulls, the Absolutes, the Great Father, etc. Some of you usual readers might put names to the characters later on. All I ask for you is to be gentle with me. The story is still unfinished. No matter how much I look at it, I cannot figure out how to finish it. *shrug* I might add on later.
Basically what you read here is the finished draft. Of course, any words of advice that will be given will be taken, thought upon, and, if anything applies, will be used.
However, might I suggest you read this part as a prologue before this prologue?
The palace was one of the grand places of another age. Rare stones and cunningly wrought metals inlayed the halls and the floors. It was a testament to the leaders of the world.
However, the place was now in a state of serious disrepair. Walls were pocketed with huge craters; the floors, gorged deeply in some places, were smeared with dried fluids and mysterious clumps of flesh. The huge double entrance doors, once decorated with sparkling crystals, hung brokenly, as if they no longer cared what happened to the world anymore and wanted no part in its defense.
If one were to look into the rooms, they would see at once that the opulent appearance outside did not spread into the chambers. In many, only bare wood and stone stood in stark juxtaposition to the rich decor of the halls. In a few exceptions, the rooms were more resplendently decorated; although, these rooms were almost to point of devastation: the walls and floors were heavily scarred with scorch marks and the ceilings caving down. In some cases the rooms were filled with huge chunks of rubble, never showing their innards.
As one continued to explore the place farther, one might notice a huge room filled with dusty beds and archaic machinery. The explorer would think that this would be a make-shift hospital, if it wasn’t for the desiccated limbs scattered around the floor. He would hurry onward to what he would gather would be the library. Three stories tall and each floor piled high with shelves filled with dusty scrolls and books, a person could spend a lifetime looking through them all, collecting the information that made the previous era possible.
The further into the house one traveled, the person would notice that it got grander and filthier. Carved black gold ornaments, each one worth a fortune to any collector, were powdered thickly with dust. Finely woven tapestries were almost to the point of utter decay; a person traveling this far would have seen one crumble into dust with a single gentle touch. Thick shards of stone from the ceiling broke free and dug, knife-like, into floor, putting to mind of a cave.
Starting at the main entrance hall, signs and sigils decorated the walls. Each one told the trespasser to leave the place or else be killed on the spot. A few places had proved the threats real, showing bodies where they were burned to a blackened crisp.
None of that mattered to the person who was currently visiting. He wore a deep purple robe, which stirred up the thick layer of grime on the floor. His hair and beard, both of a blackish-purple, were neatly trimmed in a modern style. As he walked, any wall-lamps that he passed flickered into life, emitting a deep blue glow. The walls glittered with the sparkle of inlaid green diamonds, as if they were stars adrift in a forever forgotten sky.
He wandered amidst the halls, passing the various chambers that wound through the building, until he was in the main gallery. The room had an even thicker layer of dust than the rest of the building. Parts of the walls and ceiling crumbled into huge holes where huge pale slugs were endlessly moving into and out of them. A bit farther into the room was a raised dais, where a set of six coffins of an even deeper hue were placed, almost fading into the murk, marked each with various glyphs and sigils.
The moment he entered the room, small orbs of rich light rose from the floor, furthering the illusion of stars. Some cast a dismal light on the coffins, the symbols seeming to counter the light, emitting darkness and casting strange and flickering shadows about each other.
The man looked around the room, walking towards the coffins, and noticed that one farthest to the left had the lid caved in, as if whatever was in there escaped. He languidly waved a hand towards it and the huge pieces of stone lifted and fused together, making it appear undisturbed. A cloud of dust billowed out of the coffin. Another wave and it suddenly settled into a layer of dust just as thick as the rest.
Mustn’t make them suspect what has happened while they were away, the man thought to himself. He smiled as he moved to the center coffin, the lid etched deeply in a horizontal line of flowing script and glyphs that glittered darkly in time to the lights around the room. He read the line, noticing the cautions and seeing the curses that would be given to whoever opened the lid and was foolish enough to awake what was sealed inside. The man sneered at them and waved his hand again.
The lid slid opened.