Valley of the Shadow of Death, silverling626 [top rated books of all time txt] 📗
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what is to happen when the end finally comes. The other half was left out of their reach, and out of their knowledge. They were in a since blinded by the Light. If they had dug further . . . if they had approached the tombs of the more archaic Gods, then they would have known that there was more to the story, but still . . . they are a stupid race of people.” Now he was denouncing his own species. Murus wasn’t sure how much of this he was supposed to take.
“Life.” The old weasel suddenly looked at him “Is only half . . . . of Living!”
“But sir, that doesn’t make any since-“
“The other half . . . is Death.” Elder Ross didn’t take his eyes off the youngling. He watched as Murus calculated this in his head.
“But Death . . . is the end . . . of living.” Murus smiled with frustration. It was suddenly clear to him, his grandsire had lost his wits. He was useless, and now he would be forced to entertain his ramblings.
“No, you little idiot. Life is only half of living. The other half is death.” The trees swayed again. “For every beam of light, there is a shadow. For every beginning there is an end. All things are circles and nothing is wasted.” Murus nodded. “The first were just useless facts, but the last two were ancient truths.”
“The Mountain Monks have only half the tombs of ancient truths, the other half is what my comrades and I found in this Valley, in that cave . . . the rest of the ancient story . . . as written in the Book of Death.” Murus’s jaw dropped despite him telling himself the old man was simply crazy.
“Ah to be released from the tortures of living.” Elder Ross gazed up at the sky, his face almost jovial now. “The sweet release of soul from body, body from soul. To be set free from the entrapments of pain, desire, and fear of bodily harm! To no long wonder constantly where you’ll find your next meal, to no longer battle the unrelenting changing in heat, and cold. To no longer fear constantly whose going to fight you next, or try to eat you . . . to at last be free of the constant search for sex.”
Murus stood to his feet outraged “What are you saying! Life is a gift! It is a pleasure to endulge in all these-!”
“Life is an exercise in a battle arena.” The Elder cut in. “But there is no prize at the end . . . death is inevitable, but it comes as a sort of reward. And just as our Lady of the Light grants us life, and guidance through her torments-.
“Torments!?” Murse hoped with indignation in defense of the Goddess.
“The Prince of Shadows grants us release from it!” The old weasel looked as though he was on the verge of a soulful howl, but he held back and seemed only to relish in the sensation. “He comes to you just as she is leaving, and unlocks the chains that binds you to your corpse. He releases us from our shriveled husk, which then return to her will in the Earth, where they are crafted into cages for the new born souls she’s collected since our dying hour. Life maybe worth living, but Death is certainly worth dying for! “
“I will not hear you speak of the Goddess like this!”
“You will hear, and you be silent while doing it! You came to me asking for my wisdom now you shall have it!”
“Nay sir! I shall return home before your blasphemes turns a wicked favor against me!”
“Fine. Go then. But you still have not learned what you’ve come to find. You still do not know what to expect in the end.”
“As far as I’m concerned there is nothing any of us can do about it but wait. I shall tell the others that you are a cracked rock, and leave you to burn in the Mor’s hell that you seem to love so much!” To Murus’s surprise, Elder Ross laughed at his passion.
“Fool. There is something you can do that might spare you the tortures you are bound to face near the end. “ Murus stopped with his back turned away from his grandsire conflicted. “Stay for dinner.”
*To be continued* Imprint
“Life.” The old weasel suddenly looked at him “Is only half . . . . of Living!”
“But sir, that doesn’t make any since-“
“The other half . . . is Death.” Elder Ross didn’t take his eyes off the youngling. He watched as Murus calculated this in his head.
“But Death . . . is the end . . . of living.” Murus smiled with frustration. It was suddenly clear to him, his grandsire had lost his wits. He was useless, and now he would be forced to entertain his ramblings.
“No, you little idiot. Life is only half of living. The other half is death.” The trees swayed again. “For every beam of light, there is a shadow. For every beginning there is an end. All things are circles and nothing is wasted.” Murus nodded. “The first were just useless facts, but the last two were ancient truths.”
“The Mountain Monks have only half the tombs of ancient truths, the other half is what my comrades and I found in this Valley, in that cave . . . the rest of the ancient story . . . as written in the Book of Death.” Murus’s jaw dropped despite him telling himself the old man was simply crazy.
“Ah to be released from the tortures of living.” Elder Ross gazed up at the sky, his face almost jovial now. “The sweet release of soul from body, body from soul. To be set free from the entrapments of pain, desire, and fear of bodily harm! To no long wonder constantly where you’ll find your next meal, to no longer battle the unrelenting changing in heat, and cold. To no longer fear constantly whose going to fight you next, or try to eat you . . . to at last be free of the constant search for sex.”
Murus stood to his feet outraged “What are you saying! Life is a gift! It is a pleasure to endulge in all these-!”
“Life is an exercise in a battle arena.” The Elder cut in. “But there is no prize at the end . . . death is inevitable, but it comes as a sort of reward. And just as our Lady of the Light grants us life, and guidance through her torments-.
“Torments!?” Murse hoped with indignation in defense of the Goddess.
“The Prince of Shadows grants us release from it!” The old weasel looked as though he was on the verge of a soulful howl, but he held back and seemed only to relish in the sensation. “He comes to you just as she is leaving, and unlocks the chains that binds you to your corpse. He releases us from our shriveled husk, which then return to her will in the Earth, where they are crafted into cages for the new born souls she’s collected since our dying hour. Life maybe worth living, but Death is certainly worth dying for! “
“I will not hear you speak of the Goddess like this!”
“You will hear, and you be silent while doing it! You came to me asking for my wisdom now you shall have it!”
“Nay sir! I shall return home before your blasphemes turns a wicked favor against me!”
“Fine. Go then. But you still have not learned what you’ve come to find. You still do not know what to expect in the end.”
“As far as I’m concerned there is nothing any of us can do about it but wait. I shall tell the others that you are a cracked rock, and leave you to burn in the Mor’s hell that you seem to love so much!” To Murus’s surprise, Elder Ross laughed at his passion.
“Fool. There is something you can do that might spare you the tortures you are bound to face near the end. “ Murus stopped with his back turned away from his grandsire conflicted. “Stay for dinner.”
*To be continued* Imprint
Publication Date: 10-17-2009
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