losthellhound

Its short, its not really to the point, and you might want to find my post that says what this is (unrequited muse) so that you can know why Im posting this here..

Post any comments, I'm checking all the time for feedback, good or bad..

Darkened Skies - Prologue
The city of Daer’Kalon lay sleeping. The moon hung like a face watching the city from a cloudless night sky. Below the streets and parks were empty and only a handful of windows held the glimmer of candles. The walls and ramparts were empty of watchful guards, and even the pendants hanging from the towers of the inner keep were still. The rein of the night, although temporary, was absolute. In the deep and mazelike keep, the hallways were likewise empty. A solitary guard standing beside the heavy door of the royal chamber seemed to be the only live soul in the world.

The chamber was dark, lit by a solitary candle that struggled for life against the darkness of the room. It was quiet, not just a lack of noise, but also a feeling that the air had not been stirred for centuries. Rich dark tapestries hung on the walls, the flickering light animating heraldic shields and crests of long dead families. From one corner of the room there was a faint whisper of a conversation.

“What do you see?” Asked the first voice. It was soft and gentle, like a teacher guiding a student slow to grasp a simple concept.

“I do not know, there is so much.” Replied another voice. It was delicate and cultured, but coarse. The speech was slow, and it sounded like each word took an iron will to form.

“Keep trying. Concentrate on one image, and tell me what you see.” Urged the first voice.

“I see. I see. “ The second voice faltered for a moment then continued, “I see the sun, rising over the western reaches. I see the fields from the western wall, the farmers are bringing late crops in.” The speaker’s voice was stronger now, and the words seemed to come much easier.

“Good. Now let your mind wander.” Encouraged the first voice.

“Its so stunning in the early morning. Flocks of ocean birds circling the tower. The smell of the. “ The second voice stopped, as if caught in the hidden speaker’s throat.

“What? The smell of what?” The first voice asked.

“Blood, blood and sweat and ash. I remember it all now, I remember what we did.”

“We did what was necessary. We did what was required to survive.” The first voice replied.

“Why did we lie to them?” The second voice asked.

“They could not bear to remember. No one should have to remember.” The first voice replied.

“ I do not want to remember anymore. Take it away.” The second voice said.

“Yes my lord.” The first voice said.

“Jacob, will it ever be like it was before?”
There was a sound of a large book closing, a rush of air, the candle blew out, and the room was shrouded in complete darkness.

“I do not know my lord. I can only pray we have learned our lessons well.” The first voice said.

“What lessons? When did you get here?” The second voice asked, the words slow and shaky again.

“Nothing my lord. Go back to sleep.”

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"Life is possible only with illusions. And so, the question for the science of mental health must become an absolutely new and revolutionary one, yet one that reflects the essence of the human condition: On what level of illusion does one live?"
-- Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death