Legend in a Dream

[Lorizael]

Hi, everybody. The name's Lorizael, says so on the left side of my post.

When I first started out at Apolyton I was all over the Civ 3 forum. A little too over it apparently. On my fourth day as an Apolytoner I received a 100% pcr and a one week banning. After I came back to the Civ 3 forum my posting rate cooled off a bit. Over the next few months I slowly abandoned Apolyton. But then I came back to it (you can never truly leave Poly), visiting the Civ 3 forums occasionally and the OT as well. Eventually the OT consumed my Apolyton life and I forgot about Civ 3 (mostly because I was disappointed with the game) and I've been there ever since.

But recently I've been getting bored with the OT. And I've also had the urge to do some writing. I'm a writer you see. Well I try to be anyway. And I thought I'd write a nice little story here on this wonderful forum you all have setup. Just to test my imagination and my writing skills.

This is going to be a bit different. It's three stories with different plots that eventually, in a way, converge. But I'm also making it up as I go (I've got a vague plotline in my head, nothing more).

Not sure why I had that little biography of myself. Anyway, here goes *cracks mental knuckles*.

Btw, the above is not an example of my talent. That's inhorent babbling at 12:30 in the morning after having only three hours of sleep because watching a beautiful woman sleep is one of the most amazing things one can ever experience.

How I will turn incoherent babblings fueled by fatigue toxins into a masterpiece of literature is unknown to me. Most likely, I won't. Gark!

[Lorizael]

Btw, the story will be broken up into three segments. Day, Night, and Past. These are the three eventually converging plotlines. Don't know if this would be self evident from the writing, but I figured I'd say it anyway. Can't hurt.

And just so you all know, the first part of all three segments is most likely going to be just narrative. To setup the story. I have that problem. But as I get deeper in the mix of dialogue and narrative will become much better.

Day

The world was an ocean. An ocean of infinite depth and width. It stretched on forever until the blue of the sky and the blue of the sea were difficult to distinguish. At the center of this infinite mass of water was the land of Parthtu. It was an island. An insignificantly small island in the vastness that was the great blue ocean, but it was the only island.

The only island of size, that is. Others surrounded the mother island of Parthtu, but none came close to rivaling its massiveness. But Parthtu was unique not just because of its size.

Parthtu was unique because upon its grassy hills and shallow plains, atop its craggily mountains and settled in its secluded valleys, there was life. Not ordinary life. This was the life that crafted a world about it to suit its every need. This was the life that destroyed nature to further itself. This was the life that made awe inspiring constructs of stone and mind numbing works of art.

These were the builders of civilization. This was the home of humanity.

The Kingdom of Parthtu was that body which controlled these humans. Humans often seek something to guide their way. Something to ensure their safety. Something to tell them what to do. This was embodied in the king of Parthtu, Tethra.

King Tethra had ruled his people for several decades and had ruled them well. Under his supervision the civilization of Parthtu had prospered, occupying all of the islands surrounding the greater land mass. Now all there was to conquer was the water itself.

But many believed this may not be so. There was a belief slowly rising, fueled by a few certain philosophers and theorists, that there were other islands on this world of water. They were simply too distant to see from here.

And so to ease this buildup of curiosity among his people, Tethra created a fleet of ships that would be sent out to the very edges of the world, in the hopes that they would discover these as of yet unknown islands.

King Tethra appointed the experienced Navy commander Donsopur to lead this massive mission of discovery. Throughout his career, Donsopur had become famous for his triumphs in the seas against the barbaric tribes that sailed the oceans on their flimsy canoes. Donsopur had at his disposal hundreds of wooden sailing vessels equipped with fiery catapults and equally fiery men.

Donsopur was more than willing to lead this mission. In fact, he had volunteered for this task. It was his dream to ride the seas as far as his ship would take him and look out upon the edge of the world.

But his son had a different desire. His son, Luthin, wanted very little to do with the sea. He would much rather remain at home with his family and friends. The only interest he had in traveling the seas was to discover new people. That was why he had agreed to follow his father into the waves.

Luthin was a boy of twelve who spoke as though he had the wisdom of centuries. Though that did not necessarily mean the words he produced carried the weight of centuries. He was only a boy of twelve. Bright, inventive, and charismatic most of all. But still young and with little idea of what the world was really like.

But the most peculiar thing about Luthin was a thing hidden from all he knew. For as long as Luthin had been aware of his own existence, he had lived two lives. One as a player, another as an observer. In this world, the world of the Kingdom of Parthtu he lived his life and controlled everything that happened around him. Or at he least tried to.

In his other world, he merely watched as time passed by, seeing the events of a civilization he did not know in this life. Many times he thought this was the root of his desire to find other islands, people.

But until recently, he remembered very little of this other world. This world of night. This world of dream.



Well, I'm tired. I'll write the beginnings of the Night and Past parts of the story some time tomorrow (i.e. later today after I've received a fair amount of sleep in my own bed). Until then, goodnight all.

[Lorizael]

Eh, so I lied. Turned out I had to go to the mall to visit a friend of mine. Then I had to go slightly mad. And then I slept again. But here I am once more, attempting to craft a story.

Night

The first sign that Luthin had slipped from mere unconsciousness to his other world was the sound around him. This was the sound of everything. The sound of waves rhythmically charging and retreating from the shore, the sound of animals bearing feet, wings, and less defined things calling out to offspring and partners, the sound of movement, movement of wheels, feet, and people. And the sound of people themselves. Shouting, whispering, regular daily conversation that he heard but the smallest details of. All around him was the sound of the world and civilization.

Slowly his perception of the world changed. The noise began to recede. It was sliding away, growing softer and softer. And finally he had vision. He could see only black at first. But then his sight became clearer. The black became gray. The gray was stone. This was the stone of some magnificent building. A building that rivaled the palace of Tethra in his world of light.

The noise of his dream had all but subsided. Now were only the voices of people. And most of those were fading. Two voices remained, though. The voice of a very old and wizened man, and the voice of a small child, probably younger than himself.

The voices apparently originated from this stone mansion. As his scope of vision grew, he saw that this mansion was only part of a grand city that must have been home to hundreds of thousands. The mansion was set apart from the city, but was connected to it by a paved road.

In an instant he rose to the tops of the clouds and saw thousands and thousands of cities. For a moment he saw a land that made Parthtu seem a land of ants. There were mountains that he could have touched from his point in the sky, lakes that covered a greater area than all of his country, forests that could have sheltered enough deer to feed his whole land for years.

And then he was within the stone mansion. This mansion was... the home of Chorane. Luthin did not know how he knew this, but he did nonetheless. Chorane must have been quite wealthy. The mansion was decorated with statues and paintings in every room and hall. The spiraling stairs had railings of gold. Light filled the home, seeping in through the many windows and reflecting all about by way of carefully placed mirrors of silver.

He entered a room that was simple in comparison to the others. This was just a quiet library. A quiet library of books he saw no end to. A few yards from the entrance was a round table occupied with the books of two people.

The two, Chorane and his granddaughter Nediva, sat around the table. Nediva looked admiringly up at Chorane, who was slowly explaining the way of the world to his granddaughter.

"The sky, Nediva, is the source of all. From it comes the sun, which gives all life the energy to live. From it comes the air which we must breathe to fill our lungs and sustain us. But most importantly, young Nediva, the sky gives us the tempest, the storm. The storm which creates wind and water, lightning and thunder. All of these fuel our world and support the mighty land in which we live."

That land is Cauldia, Luthin pulled from nowhere.

"You've told me that before, grandfather," Nediva sounded exasperated, "But I want to know why. Why does everything come from the sky? And why is the storm so important? It just makes a lot of noise and breaks things."

"Yes, you are quite right. Storms cause much destruction. But only because we let them hurt us. Over the centuries, we have learned to better survive the terrible storms that engulf our world. And in doing that, our people have prospered.

"But storms do more than advance our civilization. The storm brought us salvation. When were at the brink of destruction, the storm gave us brilliance and leadership in the form of Cauld, the man who saved us from ourselves and gave our land its present name."

"So where did Cauld come from?" Nediva whispered.

"No one knows, young one, no one knows. Many believe he is the essence of the sky itself, and has no home. Others think Cauld comes from a land far from here, a land greater than ours could ever possibly be. And he came to save us. And there is a small minority that believe Cauld was not the man history says he is," Chorane finished with contempt.

"What do you mean?"

"I would not want to put the thought of heresy in your mind, my impressionable Nediva. But let me just say that there are those who believe Cauld was not our savior and that he came here by mistake. Needless to say, thoughts such as those are rare indeed."

Nediva was almost afraid of the spiteful tone of her grandfather's voice. She did not know why he could be so angry had different thoughts. But then again, grandfather was a Senator. It was his duty to protect Cauldia. And people that did not believe in Cauld could do harm to the land, she thought.

She thought! Luthin was inside the girl's mind. Quickly he reeled back. Luthin had become to engrossed in the dream and believed that this was the real world. Now he knew it not to be. The world stopped. With the realization that this world was his world of night, it unraveled before him. The stone mansion crumbled. The earth sunk into the sea. And storm destroyed this reality.

He woke.


Apparently I'm going to write the other part later. Something about taking a shower, getting dressed, joining the real world. Bye all.

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Most intriguing

[Lorizael]

Hmm, well, seems I'm back here again. I... err... no I'm not gonna promise anything. Let's just say I'll try to have all three segments in one post from now on. Just depends on my state of consciousness and how busy I am. Surprisingly, I've been quite busy lately.

Past

The immutable past. The past, the true past, has no point of view. No one can speak of what truly occurred in the indeterminate time before now, for all that speak are warped by the present and the past. Their words come not from reality but from perceived reality.

This story, however, is of the past and nothing more. It is of what has happened, and what will have always happened. It cannot change, unlike the future. And it comes from no point of view. No perverted mind distorts this image. This is as it was.

Half the world burned under the intense heat and light of the Sun, resting quietly millions of miles away. And half of that world directly faced the rays that pierced the atmosphere and infected all life on the planet.

But thousands of miles from there, on the other side of the world, the sun did not exist. Hours before it had sunk below the horizon, or rather, the world had spun so that the Sun was masked by the mass of the planet.

Now in the sky was the moon, glowing white with the reflection from the other burning orb. And behind the moon were the stars, suns of equal, greater, and lesser intensity than the only sun the natives considered to be a sun. But these stars, despite their intensity, were lightyears distant from this small world.

So the night was black. Dark shadows crawled over every surface, hiding the true nature of what lie beneath. And, as even in daylight this land would not have felt all the rays of the sun, it was bitterly cold. It was the period during the revolution of the world when nature slept or died, and heat fled.

Lashtin of Fletchkir knew none of this. Lashtin knew that the Untouchable Fire, Warrior and Guardian of the White Queen, had left the world. The Untouchable Fire’s task, to warn the natives of the coming of their Goddess, was complete. It was also the task of the Fire to destroy those that were impure and not worthy of the Queen.

Lashtin also knew that with the departure of the Untouchable Fire, the White Queen, Goddess of Purity, had arrived to survey the progress of her world. Her countless attendants were always in the sky, to assure that all the White Queen wanted she received. Lashtin also knew that the Untouchable Fire was battling the Tempest, and that was the reason for the constant cold.

To avoid the carnage of this conflict, which often resulted in the tears of the White Queen falling from the sky, Lashtin lie beneath the many blankets of his bed, embracing his lover.

But tonight the war in heaven was in a calm. Tonight there was no snow, though frost would still bite at any who ventured out.

Tonight the greatest danger was not from ice, but from iron and fire.

Lashtin could hear the running of the soldiers, a constant drumming of the earth as if thunder dwelt beneath the ground. They were screaming as they charged through the town, shooting arrows and setting fire to the wooden buildings all around.

The militia has obviously already been defeated. They were setup a few miles outside of the village, guarding against the inevitable attack of the Puryans. He did not know the reason for this war. He had heard rumors that his own country had ceased to trade with the Puryans, and so they had come to force trade.

Nevertheless, his home was being destroyed, again. Lashtin was smart, though. He knew this raid would happen. While his town burned before him, Lashtin rode the horse that he had recently traded his entire harvest for. A worthwhile investment, he thought. Lashtin rode towards the safety of the woods, where he would scavenge until a better plan could be formulated.

The farmer felt very little regret in leaving the collapsing town behind him. He would lose little attachment in breaking free of it. But his future was uncertain. His current home and source of food were now in flames.

But Lashtin could not think on that now. The only thing currently on his mind was separating himself from the wars. The annual wars fought by Tempest that took the skin off his face, and the seemingly annual wars fought by the Puryans to satisfy the human instinct for territoriality and blood.

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Phew and I was intrigued by Day and Night,this is getting quite deep,you might get trapped inside your own imagination and never escape.

Beats going to work though,please keep writing I'll nominate this for round 13.

[Lorizael]

Thank you, Chrisius. I hope this turns out well, because there is so much running through my mind at the moment (try writing an epic trilogy along with a couple other novels, a few short stories and this rather complex story at the same time). Well anyway, this is Day and Night, hope to have Past some time later this evening or early in the morning.

Day

With Luthin’s rising, day had arrived. And a spectacular day this one promised to be. Three years before, King Tethra had announced his plan to search the ocean for new land and civilization. Today, the greatest fleet in the history of Parthtu would be launched.

Luthin jumped from his bed, not giving himself time to remember the bizarre dreams that haunted his unconscious mind. The first order of the day was a bath, though he rarely bathed. On this day of all days, he wanted to be clean and presentable. And, he thought to himself, there would be little clean water in which to bathe once they had begun their journey.

After a trip to the common bath, a five minute walk through the city, Luthin was at home dressing in his best clothes. He ate a healthy and hearty breakfast, prepared by his dear mother. Father was already out at the dock, Luthin was sure. After all, his father was much more vital to this mission than he was. Luthin was traveling for the fun of it, though to some extent, father was as well.

He kissed his mother goodbye, he would not see her again for at least four years. They might be gone longer, depending upon the weather and more importantly, what they found out in the farthest reaches of the sea. His mother of course gave the inevitable warnings to be careful, to stay out of danger, to not get in the way of the sailors and other such nonsense he usually ignored. And of course mother cried. Seeing this Luthin hugged her, briefly, and then bolted out the door.

To the docks he sped, running with a great smile on his face. Before he arrived he was out of breath and forced himself to slow down and walk. But he walked briskly, nonetheless. The sun shone bright in the sky, and the clouds were mere vapors drifting slowly. This was a good day to sail. The pleasant day multiplied his excitement.

There was a crowd gathered at the docks. That was to be expected. This was the greatest event in the history of Parthtu since the invention of the very first sailing vessel.

Some man seemed to be shouting to the gathering. Luthin slowed his approached and walked quietly. The man did not appear to be happy. As the teenager grew closer, he could hear the words over cries from the masses.

“… heresy I say! To suggest that we are not the only people, that there are civilizations out there other than the great and ancient Kingdom of Parthtu, is mad. It profanes our holiest writings for the Navy to partake of this expedition,” the speaker said with disdain, “and shows that the King himself doubts the beliefs we have held strongly to for centuries!”

It appeared that the crowd, which was slowly taking to what this wild man said, was blocking a good deal of the sailors from reaching their vessels. They had spilled out onto the dock, surrounding the man who stood above the civilians on a wooden crate of some sort.

Father, Admiral Donsopur, yelled to the man, “Get out of here, Zaranon, your beliefs are old and outdated. The King believes in ingenuity and curiosity. You would have us become a lifeless hulk of a civilization!”

Grabbing hold of the Admiral’s rash words, Zaranon roared, “Hear that! The King has abandoned the gods! Tethra rules by divine right and now he no longer seeks that divinity. What right does he have to rule over us then?”

The crowd raged in agreement, stomping their feet on the ground and lifting their voices higher and higher.

Luthin moved closer still and with a commanding voice called out to Zaranon, “What if there are other people, Zaranon?” Though his body was small in comparison to the mass of people before him, his voice rose above all the others present and found its way into the ears of the zealot.

The crowd dimmed and let their leader respond, “There cannot be. The gods told us, centuries before, that we were the only ones!”

“And then we crafted sea vessels and found the natives of the other islands,” Luthin shot back immediately.

The gathering was all of a sudden silent. Donsopur glared at his headstrong son, telling him without words to be without words.

Unfazed, Zaranon said, “But those were savages and barbarians. Not whole new civilizations as the King says.”

“When has the King said we would find new civilizations? When did any of the philosophers and scientists tell us that beyond the horizon were people equal to ourselves?” Luthin interrogated Zaranon. When he did not respond, Luthin answered for him, “That was never said. The theory is that the world, in its great vastness, might possess as of yet undiscovered islands. It is then reasonable to suspect that those islands might contain life similar to the life on our known lands. It is even postulated that humans may dwell there as well. But no one has ever claimed that there are other civilizations resting on the sea, waiting to be found.”

“But that is what you hope for, is it not?” Zaranon said after a time.

“Do you wish that our civilization live alone forever?” asked Luthin. But it was too late. The people cheered for Zaranon once more. The desires of the people did not matter in religious concerns. What mattered was that religious doctrine, the desires of the gods, were followed. It was blasphemy for people to want that they not be alone, even if they did not believe that it was so.

The mass of people began to move, slowly crawling over the city like some great monster. The monster was kept moving by the fervent cries of Zaranon. Luthin managed to duck into an alleyway, avoiding the blind movements of the beast.

He ran to the darkness and lay hidden in shadows absent of chaos. The mob moved inexorably towards the palace of King Tethra. There it met the army of Parthtu.

But all of what happened was hidden to Luthin as he crouched in a shadow. Eventually the Sun left, light vanished, and night became dominant. Sleep overtook Luthin, finding him where he hid despite his efforts to escape it.

Night

There were no voices, only silence. There was no movement, only stillness. There was no life, only death. No ghostly breeze buffeted Luthin as he watched the scene of decay. Bodies butchered carelessly and left to rot, women and children strewn about with their men. Total indifference to life. This was a land totally without being. Centuries must have past since a living thing dwelt here. The gods were gone, and with their parting nature had gone, too. Shades of gray surrounded the youth. The blood of the terrible wounds inflicted upon the now dead had long ago faded.

This was the city, the land he had seen every night of his life. It had always been vibrant and alive. But now it was as far removed from vibrant and alive as it could ever be. Something that hated nature destroyed this place. It would never know life again.

But few things are permanent.

The bodies shifted.

They began to crawl through the roads of the city or raise onto unsteady feet. Their wounds shrunk and healed. Some tried to speak, croaking out remembered words. People picked up their possessions that had fallen to the ground. The stronger ones helped the weaker ones.

Color returned. Tans, reds, greens, and browns flooded into the clothing of the people. Faces lost their paleness. Smiles and frowns replaced cold, dead stares.

Soon Luthin was once more looking upon his world of dreams in all its glory. A voice cut through the cacophony of the city, leading his awareness to the center of the city where a grand building of white marble stood.

Inside, eighty men, the youngest in his forties, argued and bickered. A thought came to Luthin’s mind. The Senate of Cauldia. One face in eighty he knew. The others conjured only vague images in his memory. Senator Chorane, wrinkled and graying, but still with an air of sharp intelligence and an unmistakable aura of wisdom, stood and addressed the senate.

“Senators of our great Cauldia. As you are all aware, today is the four hundredth anniversary of the arrival of our savior, Cauld. It was his leadership and strength that united our crumpling nation and made it the greatest country that there ever was. Without him, we would have been reduced to cannibalistic barbarians.”

There were cheers from the assembled statesmen.

“So I feel that now is the proper time to propose my plan to this Republic. Some believe that Cauld was a mystical being with no real home. But I am of the opinion, in this day of science and reason, that Cauld was in fact a great man, but a man of earthly origins. And if he is of earthly origins, then we could find his true home. We should mount an expedition to seek out the land of Cauld so that we can know where it is we come from. So that we can thank those that brought us our savior.”

The senate erupted into whistles, claps, and cheers of approval. On this day, anything that was in support of the great Cauld would be endorsed in the Senate. But actions speak louder than words. The real task of finding the homeland of that ancient hero would be an almost insurmountable one. There were very few facts regarding his true background. He simply appeared on the shores of Voyansen, during the triple siege of that city. And changed the world forever.

Luthin wanted to know more. Wanted to know how he knew what he knew. But as he delved deeper into the history of Cauldia, the image began to waver. The voices became distorted and inhuman. The buildings turned insubstantial and fluid. He lost hold of the reality, attempting to find its source. Then it was gone.

He woke.

[trevor]

Nice job, I can't wait for more.

[Lorizael]

*Peeks in*

Hey, there's a story here! Seems I forgot to err... write. Sorta been busy with my book lately and figured everyone had been prety much lost interest in this thread. I might try and write something tomorrow.

And just in case... hold off nominations until its done...

I think that might only be funny to me...