Providnetios

[Rimril]

Solo quest

The human mind is not capable of grasping the Universe. It is like entering a huge library, where the walls are covered to the ceilings with books in many different tongues. You know, that someone must have written these books, but you do not know who or how. You do not understand the languages in which they are written. But you notice a definite plan in the arrangement of the books. A mysterious order that you do not comprehend, but only dimly suspect.


Prologue

And she stood inside a large circular room. A marble floor, streaked with veins of gold and silver was beneath her feet. There were little windows made from stained leaden glass near the ceiling all around the room. They filled the room with narrow beams of light but keeping most of it in shadow. An admirable mural was painted onto the roof, an illustration of a divine entity stretching his hand towards a giant globe, on which all of the continents were carefully and very detailed drawn. Another God-like figure was fighting a demon behind the red clouds, in front of a gate, apparently leading to heaven. There were no visible means of entering the room and the walls were lined with shelf after shelf. They were filled with an immense number of books, written in different tongues. Every now and then, news books materialized out of nowhere, filling even more shelves.
A mahogany desk stood in de middle of the room, it had a deep brown colour and it was made by one of the most talented crafters ever. On the desk, a detailed astronomical chart displayed the composition of the stars, the sun and the moon. An article on an ominous spell, written on parchment, lay on an oak lectern next to the desk.

The girl, dressed in a large white-blue veil, had been walking in large circles, observing the books as she passed by. With every circle she made, the books seemed to change. Countless names with dates were written on the covers of the books. It is said that these books were written by fate itself, and they contained information from everyone who had ever lived, or was going to live. Details from every mortal creature: how and when they were born, what they felt and what they were going to feel, what they said and what they were going to say, what they did and were going to do. And all the books had one thing in common apart from being dusty, they ended with a single sentence on a white page: “And the soul left the body.”

The girl suddenly stopped, and took a large red book out of the shelves, and walked towards the mahogany desk in the centre of the room. She opened the book on the last page and gazed in disbelief to the white pages. The truth crushed down in torrents upon here. What she had most feared was now reality; instead of displaying the final sentence, the pages of the final chapters were completely empty.

“Impossible” she whispered.

If you would read your own book, you could read that you were reading it; you could even read how you were going to die. But there was no way to change it. All was predestined; every action was already part of the plot. It didn’t matter what actions and decisions one would make, the final chapter was inevitable. But from this book the last pages were empty. Somehow the plot was broken, or not completely finished.

The brown haired girl turned the pages of the book until she reached the last written chapter, and began to read.....

[Rimril]

A Warm Welcome

Yutaji was surrounded by endless squares of yellow sand. The sun shining ever so brightly, burned on his head, amplifying the repulsive smell of his skinny coat. His long spiny arms swept droplets of sweat from his forehead, while he reached for his backpack, grabbing a bottle of water.

Wandering in the desert was a dangerous endeavour, it took victims without remorse or hesitation. However, Yutaji was determined to search to ruins for a secret entrance. But worshippers from the cult of the sun guarded these ruins. However, they did not know about an entrance which led to an ancient catacomb. It was the final resting place of mages who died during the destruction of Fallien. Inside one of its crypts, an unusual spell was hidden.

The ruins came into view now, the stone fallen structures, were once mighty buildings. They were a symbol of power and wealth, but now they were shelter to some outcasts, worshipping a god called Mitra. Yutaji didn’t care; he would kill the fairly weak monks if they got in his way. He knew that the population of the monks in these areas of the desert was low. There was no vegetation, and even at night the temperature would only decrease by a few grades.

When he came closer to the ruins, a man, dressed up in white robes appeared from behind a stone structure.

“Greetings weary traveller, what are you doing out here?” his cold Normadic eyes bore down on him, clearly not imposed by his appearence.

Yutaji turned to the man, looking distant, as if his thoughts were already troubled with other matters. He pushed the man aside and took a good look around. The monks had set up a camp here, large white tents supported by the stone pillars were the only protection they had against the desert sun. The tents were lined up in a circle, leaving a square in the middle. In the centre, some monks were praying to a strange and obscure statue. Others were working on what appeared to be a vegetable field. Though there wasn't any source of water around, the crops looked very healthy and didn't seem to be dehydrated at all.
To the south, a small and ominous shaped tower made out of sandstone provided some shadow for the cattle. Some woolly sheep (who weren't bothered by the heat either) and a goat had noticed to presence of a stranger and were staring at him absent-mindedly.

"What are your intentions here?" said the monk, who had just been pushed aside. His eyes were narrowed and his voice was slightly raised this time. The monk had been sent to this place as a penance. He had refused to acknowledge the beauty of this world and the things living upon it. The priest had sent him here to come in touch with his soul and to find the path to enlightenment. This creature however, was not like one he had ever seen before and it was certainly not beautiful. But was this a test and had the priest sent him? He had to remain calm whatsoever; this creature certainly didn't look like much. If he wasn't going to respond to his questions, he had to persuade him to do so.

Yutaji ignored the man again, and floated to the sandstone pillar. He wasn't going to respond to just an ordinary monk, who was in his opinion no more than a by-product of dirt and vileness. He had to focus on his true goal, which lied meters beneath the surface. A catacomb in which warriors, mages and monks of the elder breed had found their final resting places.

"Yes, this must be the place" he murmured, his dark eyes observed the stone structure carefully. He stretched his right hand so that it was flat to the ground and parallel with his shoulders. Purplish clouds formed around his hand, and with a sudden flesh of light, an obscure staff with a black, shining stone on top of it took shape in his hand. The cattle looked slightly alarmed and backed off immediately at the sight of this phenomenon.

The monk, who looked also slightly alarmed, now realised that the priest had not send the stranger. He had to get rid of him before he caused mayhem.
"Surrender your weapon, or else..!" he bellowed to the stranger. His eyes turned red and narrowed even further, the muscles in his body tightened and deep wrinkles fortified his angry look. He had lost all his patients and was now ready to fight the stranger.

Yutaji chuckled arrogantly; he had trouble keeping himself from laughing even louder. Apparently this monk didn't even know the rules of combat, these rules were ancient, every self-respecting creature knew about them. Evidently the monk had watched too many plays, were conversations before fights tend to last endlessly. In the real world however, it was best not to speak at all; killing your enemy before he was able do anything at all was far more effective than a noble fight. The monk's empty threats had only been a sign of inexperience. He was a joke.

The monk had noticed that the stranger grimaced; he raised his hands anger fuelled and formed a small glowing sphere inside them. A gust of wind appeared out of nowhere, which seemed to levitate him. Airborne, he narrowed his red eyes even further and gazed at the stranger. The monk took aim and opened his hands, a green yet of light soared through the air, heading directly for the stranger.

Yutaji couldn't keep himself from laughing out loud now; this attack was pathetic. He deflected the green yet of light with an almost lazy flick of his staff. His dark, bright eyes flickered with joy while he stretched his long spiny arms out to prepare himself for his attack.

The monk lay motionless on the hot desert sand. Pain tore through his burned body and his limps felt unbearable heavy. He had always thought himself to die of old age, in a peaceful and painless way. He had never dreamed that this day would end like this since it started rather well. He had been informed that his penance was almost over and that he soon was to return to the monastery back home. He was relieved that stranger who had attacked him was gone; he had blasted a sandstone pillar away and had disappeared through a large door. The other monks were save for the moment but there was none who could take care of them now. But with their inability to hear and see, they wouldn’t last long.

The monk took a long last look around him. He finally noticed how beautiful the world really was. A grin appeared on his mouth before he closed his eyes. Tiny lights were sparkling like little diamonds all around him just before everything became black.