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A brother warns his brother, King of the Drugens, of a conflict forming on the horizion.
The crimson twilight of the coming dusk danced up the shadow’s edge of the black forest, causing a definite separation between reality and illusion. Towering above the bleak undergrowth the trees acted as a natural barrier between two distinct worlds…a barrier that would soon taste the flames of blood. Blowing majestically in the wind; however, the trees thought nothing of time past or future; rather, they focused only on the peaceful present that had yet to be shattered.

The shadowy embrace of the forest’s edge outline a solitary silhouette’s figure swaying under the strain of a heavy load. Kneeling in the moistened earth, the man allowed the weight to roll of his shoulders falling onto the ground below. The object’s blood-welted skin appeared unrecognizable in the twilight dim. Breathing slowly, the man revealed a book, pressing it firmly against the silent mass that now lay sprawled out before him. Raising his head for the first time, the man gazed upon his forsaken home, marveling at its beauty.

Over a century ago he had left the lands of his father and brother to search for knowledge, that same knowledge which now brought him back home. Turning his head away, the man resisted the urge to walk into the deep thicket, resting the urge to walk to safety. Well-being was not his destiny, this he knew; he had been marked for death by the same savages that would soon mark his entire generation for extinction. Soon the rush of blade and song of war would cause the trees who sway in a windless air.

Centuries had past since the Drugens tasted such bitter tidings, yet the man knew the importance of preparation. His own younger brother, King of the Drugens, caused the direct establishment of peace through his sacrifices those several decades ago; sacrifices which soon the new era would call for once more. Like a traitor the man would gladly choose death or exile over a fate he was never meant to bare: a hero’s death and coward’s last words.

Prying his eyes away, the man turned his back to his homeland. The savages would come. He could no longer linger. Taking a single leap forwards, the man propelled himself out of the thicket and into the darkness of the night.

Loose rocks greeted the changing landscape as the trees narrowed. Passing the boundary between the foot of the mountains and the valley below, Solomon did not slow; instead, he only quickened his pace in rebuttal. The savages would be looking for him; he dared not lead them too close to his brother’s kingdom. A premature contact would only cause things to further spiral out of control.

In the distance the flame of a smoldering fire twinkled, marking his destination. Only recently had the savages established civilization at the foot of the valleys. Prior they had wandered the earth in a bleak stupor, fighting among themselves for land, greed, and for the thrill of blood. The superstitious breed often used violence as a means to destroy their own fear, a practice that would soon shake the foundations of the Drugen society.


At last he came to the remains of the savage’s settlement. Crude copper and steal mechanisms lay scattered by the fire’s light, the few erect tents remaining swayed in the loose breeze. The camp had been hastily abandoned; no doubt the remnants of a scouting party. A chill ran up Solomon’s spine as he squatted in the loosened dirt. The savages where searching for him no doubt. Judgment for his actions would be delivered, in one way or another.

Similar small villages dotted the landscape throughout the valley, making escape impossible. Despite this, Solomon knew he had no choice but to try. Based upon the smoldering fire remains, only moments remained before the savages would return, before he could move; however, his worse fears where realized. A sharp pain struck his neck, sending his mind into the chasms of darkness.
When he came to, Solomon could feel the flame’s heat scolding his neck; his mouth, hands, and eyes where bound by ragged linen. Harsh voice surrounded his captured body; uttering words his own language could not comprehend, yet in the savages own crude langue meant things worse than death: “Murderer, atheist, and witch”. Preparing himself for the pain to come, Solomon closed his eyes and prayed.
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My Dearest Brother,
It has been several seasons past since I left our homestead in search of unseen knowledge. My passing from our society, although long ago, still hold a heavy harbor within my heart. I understand now as I understood then that tradition beckoned me to stay, yet instincts proved a far greater power in my life. It is those instincts that now call upon me to write to you, my Kendrugen, after years of silence. Our society us teetering upon the edge of a chasm of approaching change. We must prepare now if we want to survive the plunge.

My brother, I only hope that hatred does not blind you to the true importance of this letter. I understand only to well the unfair burdens placed upon you. As the eldest I should have risen to lead, yet I myself was not kin to violence; thus, you where born. Your birth war marked with the signs of redemption; signs I myself could never hope to bear. It is for that reason I abandoned our homestead when I was lo longer needed; not out of hate. But rather shame.

Yet I still live to serve your, my Kendrugen. My heart still throbs to serve. It is that unconditional love that dominates my will and controls my actions. It is that love that now spurs me onwards to write. In the past century I have witnessed the rise of a new race that will soon hold dominion over our world. A new breed of blood wretches whose thirst goes unquenched have arisen. These savages kill for the sake of greed, relishing in the taste of war. Although their bodies may share resemblance to ours, their mind’s lack enlightenment. Fear, greed, and pride dominates their own chaotic impulses.

For the past several years I hae faded in and out of the shadows, becoming one with the savages deranged social decorum; a close connection which would in turn cost me dearly. Written upon these pages I have transcribed all that I have learned, so that such knowledge shall not be lost in death yet channeled through you. The foul breath of these savages breathes life into a splintered language of their own design. Mastery of this foul-tongue is necessary if peace we are to preserve. Mastery of this language is necessary if war we are to pursue.

I must apologize for being blunt, my Brother. Time does not allot me the pleasure of detailing the extent of this new threat. Only know this: the savages know nothing of our ways or our customs. They themselves worship a crude methodology of their own design known as ‘science’ in their own native tongue. Science itself defies every law we’ve ever known. It fuels the savage’s motivation to explain everything around them, even the things we ourselves cannot hope to understand. That motivation shall lead to your downfall, if we refuse to fight it.

Like wild-kin the savages fear anything they do not understand, and obliterate anything the fear, creating a pattern of greed, jealousy, and hatred. It is that hatred that shall mark the dawn of this new era. A new era in which the Titans of war awaken from their deep slumber/ Fear itself shall shatter peace., and peace shall fuel war. I have seen the blistering heat of our foes; I have felt the unseen pain that boils on the horizon. My Kendrugen, take caution yet do not cower in the darkness. Now is the time for preparation, not stubborn resolve.

You ate the pinnacle of hope that will lead our people to greatness. I have no doubt that our people’s trust is well placed, I only hope that you heed my advice. I understand with no hardship of the hatred you might harbor towards me. I accept all responsibility of blame, for it was I who abandoned my duty as eldest child of the Kendrugen. It was I who forced this fate upon you.

Written upon these pages lay my final word, my final insight into this failing world. A century’s worth of knowledge and documentation compiled into a single book to be used as a tool of redemption. Wield it intelligently, my brother. May it act a guide for our people through these troubled times. This documentation of my knowledge is my last gift to you. I have nothing more to give; I take nothing to my grave. You shall see a new earth, a new beginning that I shall take no part in. This I promise you. May my last testament to our kind see us through to the end of this Awakening.

© Copyright 2008 Xavier Gosser (axgosser at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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