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  • Subject: Halo Fanfic: The End of a War
Subject: Halo Fanfic: The End of a War
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  • Exalted Heroic Member

Nice to have you back clark =)

send me a friend invite if you want, i play halo 2 all the time.
Gamertag: Pothl

  • 05.16.2006 12:54 PM PDT
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I love the story, Clark, only started reading them two days ago and I read until I was forced to go to sleep. Finally finished the most recent (by comparison) chapter, and am held in suspense!

I'm psyched for a new chapter! Let's get it on!

  • 05.16.2006 2:10 PM PDT
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Posted by: Mr_Clark
The chapter will be posted once I awake after what I hope is a fulfilling sleep.


You sleep for a loong time.

  • 05.16.2006 2:27 PM PDT
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havent you ever heard of a thing called timezones??

this is prowlaz by the way.

-blam!- half my acconts are banned i swear.

  • 05.16.2006 2:32 PM PDT
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good

  • 05.16.2006 4:18 PM PDT

Posted by: LIME31
I got his sarcasm...one person has to implement sarcasm and then you get a pile of terrorist chipmunks crashing your party, not fun at all..



Posted by: spartakus14


Sweetness.

Can;t wait for new chapter.

Anyways. I have recently bought a 360 along with G.R.A.W. Does anyone else here, who has a 360, have a suggestion for anothe game that I should buy? I'm think BF2, DOA4, Perfect Dark Zero, and thats it.


Get call of duty 2, that's an awesome game. Don't think PD:Z is that great, because it's not. BF2 and COD2 are way better.

  • 05.16.2006 4:25 PM PDT
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Posted by: Mr_Clark
I succeeded in knocking half my balls over the side fence.

Hmmmm.... Ah-.....hmmm

I'd better just leave my comment at that

  • 05.16.2006 4:40 PM PDT
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I'll keep this short, as my head is so far gone, I fear I might start spilling secrets I shouldn't.

I'm not sure what it is I've contracted at the moment, its either a blasted summer cold, or perhaps I'm having adverse affects to the many ridiculous shots I received in the hospital. I don't know, and at the moment I'm too irritated to care.

I originally planned on simply waiting until I healed, but that's just mean, so what I'm doing is posting everything so far that I believe is 'up-to-standard' for the first chapter of the Forerunner Chronicles.

That means this is just Part 1 of the first chapter. I don't even want to consider when I'll have time to fix up the later portions of it, but because I'm a masochist I'll tell you I should be back to normal on friday or saturday.

Enjoy this small chunk, and say a kind prayer for my very sore head and throat, which are currently battling evil forces:

Glossary for foreign words follows at the end of the chapter!

The End of a War

Forerunner Chronicles

The Transient Allure of Amelioration


The forest glade of Omemin Falls was at peace along the distant shoreline that lined the border of the continent, sublime serenity playing through the cascading meadows and dense foliage, lined amidst the horizon with the grand outcropping of the Lynfold Mountains. Much of the land that adorned the planet of Ual was decorated with the same vegetation as was present within Omemin Falls, for it was a planet unmarred by intelligent life forms, seeking to harvest it‘s resources. Fyorn trees native to the planet, stretched to varying heights decorating the canopy above with a capturing display of natural beauty. A lone beaten path was all that marred the otherwise captivating scenery, and it was upon this path that the two Majal walked down. The elder of the two stood high, his height nearly twice again the size of the child that hustled beside him. A loose cloth hung from his body, the fabric giving off a faint glimmer as the light pierced through the high canopy and doused the two in radiance. His tanned skin, a deep brown that seemed to almost play off the natural bright blue tint leant to his body was hidden from the light, as the elder carried a large cloth bundle with him that kept a the greater portion of his body in the shadows. The breeze skimming through the trees leant them relief from the midday heat, which left the elder parched, while the child, being carefree as all children should be, was oblivious to his own needs as he laughed gaily while clutching the hand of the elder Majal.

Soon the Fyorn trees were left behind as they emerged from the forest and stepped onto the soft grass that now covered the open meadow. With a nervous glance at the elder Majal, and receiving the answering nod from his questioning glance, the child freed himself from the elder’s grasp and ran ahead allowing the simple robes he wore to billow in the current of wind that swept unquestioned through the open field. The elder Majal watched with adoration in his eyes as the child lost himself to the world, and with a shake of the head, he unhitched the bundle of cloth that was draped over his shoulder. Caution tinting his actions, the elder unfurled the cloth and removed an intricately designed bow, its wood a deep green with carvings of detailed fauna decorating its length. Tender were his motions as he plucked the heavy bowstring and listened for a moment as it reverberated a deep thrumming tone through the still air. Next, the Majal freed a long quiver filled with finely crafted arrows and he spilt the deadly spearheads onto the fine cloth, ensuring that none were cracked or worn. Once this task was completed, he looked out into the lush field and searched with his eyes for the small child that had been forgotten shortly. Concern doted his face and with a great breath, he cupped his heavy, calloused hands to his mouth and called the child’s name. The wind carried his voice down the meadow, for the child soon appeared waving with abandon and running still, having not tired an ounce despite his hurry to go wherever his feet may have taken him.

The elder Majal waited primly as the child neared, taking sight of the ancient weapon set upon the cloth and slowing his pace as a wave of apprehension seemed to grip his small frame.

“Father are you sure that I am ready to undertake this training? I overheard some of the others in my class say that their fathers are adamant that they must prove their admittance amongst the Kyl’shi(1) before they are even granted the right to gaze upon the family Gail(2),” the child spoke, worrying his hands nervously as he stared at the ancient bow and arrows as if they were touched by a holy spirit, and if he were to draw too close they would be tainted forever. The elder Majal watched his child as he drew a long breath that left him in a rush whilst he smiled at the everlasting gentle spirit the child possessed.

“You worry too much Absolon, surely you do not think that I would be so foolish as to prepare this ceremony without thinking you were ready? Do you think so little of your father?” the elder Majal asked.

“Certainly not father,” Absolon said urgently as he moved forward and grasped his father’s hands. “You have always taught me well, and I love you for it. If not for your guidance and care, I believe I would have not nearly so good a life as I have now. Since you have such confidence in me, I shall do all I can to not disappoint you!”

The earnest look in the child’s eyes stilled the laughter that brewed within the elder, for he knew it would crush Absolon’s spirit. The look of determination that overflowed from the child amused and touched the elder greatly; he nodded his head deeply at the child, and began to carry through the steps of the ceremony.

Reverence flowed from the elder’s movements as he brought the ancient bow into his left hand and removed a long, slender arrow from the quiver. Sighting a Fyorn tree near the opposite end of the meadow, the elder placed with blunt end of the arrow against the taut bowstring, and pulled back as his body tensed. He kept his stance rigid as his arms were horizontally aligned, and with his body sighted, he slowly relaxed his draw hand. With a flourish of sound, the arrow was released, and it swept across the open plain where it quite soundly impaled itself into the Fyorn tree. The elder worked hard to keep a smile from his face, for he had been greatly worried that the wind would cause him to overshoot his target.

Beside him, Absolon could not keep the awe from his eyes as he realized that his father had indeed hit his target. When his father’s eyes turned to watch him, the awe melted away and was replaced by fear, as he realized it was now his turn to receive the weapon, and then make his shot.

“Do not choose a target too far away,” his father warned as the bow was passed. Absolon glanced fearfully around him until he sighted a tree that looked as if it were within his range. Setting his angular jaw, the child mimicked his father’s preparations and released the notched arrow. Unlike his father however, Absolon’s arrow faltered only fifty feet away from its target and slammed into the ground. The child watched in shock, whimpering slightly over his failure when he felt a feather touch on his shoulder.

“That was a very good shot,” the elder said approvingly.

“But father, I did not hit my target,” Absolon exclaimed. “You put your faith in me and I have failed.”

“My child, have you ever held a weapon like this before?” the elder asked, and the boy miserably shook his head. “Then how could I expect you to not fail on your first attempt?”

Without waiting for Absolon’s response, the elder continued, kneeling down beside the child and staring into his eyes.

“When I was only several seasons older than you, my father took me to this very glade and he took me through the steps of the transferring the Gail. Back then the Fyorn were not as tall, but he still struck his target with assurance. I had been overwrought with fear, and when I first took this bow,” the elder said grasping the ancient weapon tightly, “I was unable to balance the weight and dropped it. When I finally learned how to hold it properly, I attempted to fire an arrow at a target much closer then that which you have chosen, and I missed my target by quite a large margin. Much like you, I thought that I had disappointed my father, and when I glanced at him he was staring at me with his hard eyes, betraying no emotion. My first instinct was to weep, and to throw down the Gail with force and flee, but I stayed since I did not wish further shame on my father. Therefore, I took up the bow once more, and attempted to launch another arrow. I missed again, but my arrow went further than before, and when I glanced at my father, I could see an expression of joy behind his impartial face. With every shot I took, his look of concentration was replaced by one of happiness, for he did not care that I had missed. His only concern was that I did not give up, and show determination.”

Absolon looked on with his gentle countenance, his eyes b-blam!- with unshed tears over his father’s soft tone and loving gaze. Nodding to his beloved father, the young Majal set his face in a grim look of resolution and took the family Gail in his hands again.

“You will watch me then, father?” he asked.

“Yes my child,” the elder responded, and added in a tone too soft for Absolon to hear, “I will watch you until the very end.”

Therefore, time passed.

[Edited on 5/17/2006]

  • 05.17.2006 12:42 PM PDT
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Absolon continued the ceremony, his hands working with the bow and arrows. After several hours, he had still yet to strike the Fyorn that had symbolized his target, which is why the sudden sound of an arrow slamming into the indigenous flora caused both Majal to jump slightly from surprise. The entire forest seemed to still as if it too was shocked by the success of Absolon. The stillness was broken when the child gazed up to see his father’s expression, and was quite pleased when he saw the look of silent pride on his face. A great laugh echoed through the clearing as the elder grasped Absolon and lifted him into the air, suspended by his strong arms. Together they laughed and shared the joy the moment brought to both of them.

When the child was set back upon the ground however, the childlike air around him vanished, and was replaced with a pale cloud of darkness. A sudden coughing fit attacked the child, and his father could do nothing but watch on in worry as the child fell to his knees. The elder rushed to him and placed his hands cautiously upon the child’s back, and the coughing fit subsided, but the child began to shake with terrible tremors. Fear covering his mind, the elder pulled the child’s hands away from his mouth, noticing the deep pockets of blood decorating his hand and long, slender fingers.

“The D’orl(3),” the elder said sadly, bitterly. He pulled Absolon against him and whisked the child into his arms. Climbing to his feet, the elder ran back towards the woodlands, cradling his precious burden with as much care as he could. His large, powerful legs bent and slammed into the ground, his speed hastened by fear and anxiety as the child in his arms felt weaker than the bustling rays of light that attempted to break through the thick canopy over their heads. The family Gail was forgotten, as all worries faded beneath that small dwindling weight cradled in his arms.

There is still time…please do not take this child from me yet…

‘D’orl’ was the term bestowed upon the frightening disease that had struck the Majal population many seasons in the past. Like the harrowing flight of a fallen Gavis(4), the disease flourished throughout every Majal settlement, wiping away over half their population in only a scant seven seasons. It was only through a medical breakthrough by seven Majal chemists that allowed for treatments that would slow and sometimes stall the vengeful D’orl disease as it ripped through a Majal body. As time progressed, and the effectiveness of the treatments were fleshed out, the disease became less deadly, and less known throughout Majal society. It was a rare case for the D’orl to make an appearance at this point in time, and even rarer when the infected were children. Unfortunately, the youngest of the Majal proved to be the most resistant to the treatments available, and ultimately became the greatest suffering age group since the ‘Gray Seasons’(5).

Absolon was diagnosed with the D’orl disease upon his second aging, and after so many seasons his body had yet to give out, however it was not a question of ‘if’, but ‘when’. Every treatment he received, the physicians would make their grave notations, comparing the previous notes from his last visit, and announce that the child’s body was deteriorating still.

“I am sorry, Father,” Absolon wheezed as he tried to still his haggard breaths. “I’ve always been such a burden for you.”

A long silence descended upon them as the elder Majal continued his pace, fighting the tightening grip that was forming around his heart when he heard the weak words spill from the child’s throat.

“Save your breath my child,” the elder spoke gravely, but tried to keep the darkness away, “You have never been anything other than the brightest light in my life. I know how painful these attacks can be, and I do not wish for you to hurt yourself more to say such foolish things.”

“Yes,” Absolon breathed, “They are always so very painful…but, this will be the last time I feel such pain ever again.”

The elder was lending the child an ear whilst he dedicated his other senses to reaching their arrival point, and had he not been so keen on attending to Absolon, he might have missed the foreboding tone in his voice. The legs that had worked so hard to carry them several hundred feet in so short a time slowed until they finally ceased completely. Strength left the elder then and he fell to his knees, staring with unbridled fear at the child still cradled in his arms.

“What did you say?” the elder whispered.

“I’m sorry. I asked them not to tell you on my last visit to the treatment centre in Lithiom(6),” Absolon confessed. “I begged that they lie to you, I wished for you and Momma not to know.”

“Absolon…” the elder said, his voice choked by his anguish. The smile plastered across the child’s face did not bring him the joy it always did, and instead it let the grip all ready taut against his heart tighten once more.

“I’m at my final step Father…” Absolon said, “My body has no more strength to give.”

The elder wished to scream, to deny the words spilling from his child, but it would have been a foolish excursion, and would only succeed in wasting the few precious moments left.

“Why…why did you keep it a secret?” the elder moaned.

“I’ve known for a long time that I wouldn’t live past my youth,” Absolon replied, his weak limbs clinging almost desperately to his father. “It is something I’ve come to accept, and I know that you and Momma would not understand even if I explained. I did not wish for my final moments in this life to be spent inside a medical bay, living out my last breaths in those white prisons. Out here on this beautiful planet, in this wondrous forest, and with my beloved Father I can live and die with no regrets.”

“How can you say such a thing?” the elder said, his voice breaking and catching as his throat became tight from his pain. “I am your father, I’m supposed to protect you from any kind of pain. If we were in Lithiom you could pass painlessly into the next life at the very least.”

“Please do not be angry,” Absolon whispered through his pain, “I did not wish to lie, but I had no other way before me.”

The elder stuttered for a moment, trying to say something…anything. He was silenced when the child began to tremble with a greater intensity, and his eyes closed in anguish.

“The pain is getting worse, Father,” Absolon whimpered. “I can ask only one more thing of you Father. They told me that it would be very painful before the end, so please, hold onto me until I pass. Let your strength become my courage so that I may face this fate.”

So weak and pitiful was Absolon’s voice, that the elder buried his anguish and pain completely, gripping his child’s body tightly and proclaiming, “I will give you all that I have.” Unable to save his child from the grip of death, the elder proclaimed to himself, that he would do everything in his power to let Absolon pass with a clear mind. As it was the young Majal was doing everything he could to keep his resolve stoically in the face of the unbearable pain assaulting his body. His mouth opened and closed with such force that the elder was unsure what exactly the child wished to say.

Pain undoes all pride however; the strongest of creatures will bow beneath its indomitable presence. Courage falters amidst the blinding pain, and every oath one swore to keep their tongue silent is broken one by one, by one. Soon the forces at work inside his body grew too powerful to ignore, and Absolon began to cry out, begging for help. His body thrashed violently in his father’s grip, forcing the elder to press the child even closer to his body, accepting the strikes and thrashes without a word. His face was no longer calm as Absolon screamed against the pain; the cries had begun to assault him at his very core. He was as well-versed on the final moments of the D’orl virus, and just how little could ever be done for the sufferer.

Desperation took root within the elder as Absolon’s thrashing began to grow weaker; his life was slowly, inexorably drained from his body. Absent were any parting words between father and child. All that took root was the child’s unending gaze that was fixated upon the elder’s face. There the elder saw that his child was no longer of this world, and with this assurance, his resolve crumbled. Absolon’s lifeless corpse was laid upon the ground as the elder climbed to his feet, confusion and helplessness flowing within him. He stepped several feet backwards, then fell back upon his knees and placed his head within his hands as he screamed.

There was no direction to which his sadness and rage were attributed to. Blinded by grief and remorse, he could do no more but wail and strike the surface of the planet. Returning to it some small fraction of the pain that clenched his heart. He was Fasul of the Majal, and he had lost his only son.

  • 05.17.2006 12:44 PM PDT
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---------------------------------

Lithiom, the planet that first gave birth to the Majal, inhabited a solar system with thirteen separate planets. Spaced as the seventh planet along chronological order away from the brightening star that burned brightly in the center of this system, Lithiom was given a healthy supply of light and darkness during it’s tenure as the birthplace of the mightiest race in the universe. Time and order were recorded with absent-minded tendencies, leading to contradictions and gaps within the history of their fledgling race. Several eons after their divination into creation, it was only then that they began to wonder at their own roles inside the universe. Technology had given birth to a new and incredibly fascinating role for the Majal. They were allowed to sail amongst the universe in its entirety, observing and visiting every inhabitable planet they discovered. Thus began their defined role as the overseer’s of the universe. Time took on an important role in their society at this stage, as chronicles were stored of planets and creatures from around the universe. Deep catacombs of scripts and tombs were made, detailing different sections of the universe, and whatever dwelt there. They were the pride of the Majal, and if it seemed odd that their pride should come from observing other creatures and not their own, no one ever mentioned it.

The Majal were not a populous species. Even after thousands of eons in existence, their population never exceeded more than several million. This did not create many problems with transference of responsibilities and duties however, as the Majal were gifted with a life span equaling that of a millennia in human terms. Such a grand life span ensured that Majal society would continue to flourish, and would never fall from the path that was laid out so many seasons ago.

Lithia, the capital city of Lithiom, stood as the proliferation of Majal society. The testament to their civilization, Lithia contained the largest population of any city on Lithium, or anywhere else in the entire universe at any given time. The city was the resultant product of generations of work and cultivation; sprawling across the northern continent of Lithium, the Majal reverred the city even as they dwelt within it.

As a culture, the Majal studiously paid tribute to their ancestors, believing that the technological advancements they had made should be used to further their roles in the universe, but should not disrupt the delicate balance the Majal themselves existed within in their own habitats. This stretched as far as the Majal could conceivably allow it, without their reverence interfering with their declared duties. So, a series of laws were produced, with the input and consensual agreement of the eldest Majal that belonged to the prestigious families that had established Majal society for eons past.

One of the more controversial laws written and passed, involved the banning of any medical procedure or other form of scientific alterations that may alter Majal genetics, resulting in a mutation within a Majal, thus creating disparity among their species. In some of the outter planets that contained Majal settlements, the D’orl virus had begun to emerge and wreck havoc at the time of the laws passing. Nevertheless, the law passed, and as a result, the D’orl virus ravaged the Majal to the point of wiping out nearly thirty percent of their entire population in the universe. Though many were outraged by this negligence on the part of the Majal elders (particularily the younger Majal), the truth was that their existed no known medical procedure that could have stopped the disease from spreading, following the guidelines set or not. This point was often disregarded as many countered that the elders did not know of that fact when they wrote the law. The event struck a bitter chasm between the Majal, as many felt betrayed, particularily those that lost family members or close friends to the D’orl virus.

Though the resultant scar had begun to heal among the Majal after many years of resentment, a discovery in a rogue species the Majal encountered would cause the wound to be violently ripped open.

--------------------------------------

Whether it was the brightening light or the dream he had been experiencing that awoke him, Fasul would never be able to say for sure. Either way, he was pleased to be free of the nightmare that persisted him every step of his life since that day. Rest became a gamble with every moment, wondering whether he would be tormented by the sight and memory of Absolon.

Inarticulate thoughts seemed to flood his mind as Fasul lay motionless in his bed. Absently he noticed that Thisbe was not beside him, meaning she had likely been ill again that morning.

Once again she suffers in silence. I am so weak…I can do nothing for her. Listlessly, I falter through my waking hours with the shroud pulled over my eyes. Where can the peace I seek emerge?

Slowly the urge to rise filled him, and Fasul climbed from his resting place, throwing on the clothes that Thisbe put out after she awoke earlier. Pausing as he ran a hand across his face, Fasul stared at the now empty bedding and sighed deeply. Twenty years by the human calender had passed since Absolon’s death, and yet the void between Thisbe and himself was no smaller. Only those who’ve experienced the pain of losing a child to a slow illness over many seasons would understand the sudden loss of love between those that loved and conceived that child.

Burrowing away his remorse, he stepped out from the bedroom and padded down the narrow hallway to the spiral staircase that led down to the main floor of their home. Checking each of the rooms briefly, Fasul noted that Thisbe was not in the house. He began to worry until he happened to glance out the outer viewing window in the kitchen, and spotted his mate standing away from the home, near the edge of the jutting ground that overlooked the rest of Lithia.

Fasul and Thisbe’s home had been a gift from Fasul’s father, who passed away at a very early age, living only to his seven hundred and fifty second aging. The home was given to the two mates as a gift when they were joined in the Beol(7) ceremony. Fasul’s father perished only seven seasons after their joining, contracting the D’orl strain of virus and passing away shortly thereafter. His mother passed on soon afterwards, taking her own life out of grief for her dead mate.

The D’orl virus had taken much from Fasul, and he was haunted by memories with every step he took inside his home. Thisbe joined her mate in those feelings, which was why she often ventured out of the building and stood on the plateau overlooking the magnificent city below them.

Approaching his mate from behind, Fasul made no attempt to hide his presence as he crossed the distance between their home and the furthest point Thisbe could get from it’s walls without having to acquire a Vinol(8) for transportation. He watched her delicate frame as he approached, noticing how her sloping shoulders tensed slightly as she became aware of him. With a hesitant pause, Fasul slipped his hands onto her shoulders, feeling a deep wound in his chest when she tightened her muscles under his touch. He was prepared to remove his hands, and himself, when Thisbe suddenly relaxed and slumped backwards against Fasul, one of her own hands coming up and falling lightly upon his. Fasul did his best to quell the excitement that filled him as he gripped her hand and felt her squeeze back slightly. Moments such as these were all that he continued to live for, when the barriers they had erected between each other were pulled down.

In the dark days that haunted his present life, Fasul often doubted his love for Thisbe, and believed he may serve the universe better if he were to end his own life. There were times when after a particularly horrifying nightmare involving Absolon, he would stand where he was now in the middle of the night, and gaze down at the distant ground, some three hundred feet below and wonder how much more will power he would need to take that one fateful step. The only thing that stayed his body, keeping it rooted in that spot, was the warmth that flowed into him as Thisbe tilted her curved head against the crook of his neck letting the sensitive skin along her skull rub lovingly against him.

His hands moved down Thisbe’s body, passing possessively over her chest, cupping her breasts lightly, slowly moving down to rest them on her stomach, which was curved and swollen with life.

I live for one other reason, Fasul thought. The universe has given us another chance at life. They have given us another child.

A comforting, companionable silence descended upon the two Majal as they watched the deep red star that lighted their home planet rise from beneath the horizon. Fasul let his hands wander occasionally, testing the strength of Thisbe’s ass and thighs with his hands, delighting himself when she shivered against him. No matter how far he wandered, his hands returned to her swollen stomach, reassuring himself that there was indeed life dwelling within. It had been nearly seven months since he last touched Thisbe, and his arousal was sparked with fervent desire.

  • 05.17.2006 12:44 PM PDT
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With considerable effort he calmed himself, mentally exuding the fact that at the stage of pregnancy Thisbe was currently in, the act of mating would prove difficult, and perhaps even painful for his mate and the child she carried. Those thoughts calmed him, and he brought his hands back up to shoulders, kneading them gently, working the knots that had developed within them. The moans of pleasure that came from Thisbe now seemed to be even more arousing than when he had been testing her swollen and sore breasts.

Time passed, and as the star passed completely free into the morning sky, Thisbe and Fasul returned to their silence for a short time. However, Fasul soon broke the silence, hesitating beforehand in the same manner he had halted himself when he first touched Thisbe earlier.

“I dreamt of him last night,” he admitted softly. The silence became oppressing as he waited for Thisbe to respond. He would not have been surprised if she simply walked away; that she chose to answer in response surprised him greatly.

“I know,” Thisbe said, just as softly. Fasul’s wandering hands found her stomach once again, pushing slightly against the swollen area and feeling the slight movements of the young Majal that dwelt within.

“Not a day passes where I do not worry that this child will share Absolon’s fate.”

“I know,” Thisbe repeated.

“Do you blame me?” he asked suddenly. Thisbe paused before replying.

“Clarify yourself, Fasul,” she said. “Do I blame you for what?

“For everything,” stammered Fasul, his tone mournful.

“For a long time I did, yes,” Thisbe admitted breathlessly. “I blamed you for Absolon’s death, I blamed you for the D’orl virus, and I blamed you for the space that had grown between us. Anything in the universe, I blamed it all on you. I hated you for so long.”

“I blamed myself for everything as well,” Fasul spoke bitterly. “And I loved you for every second that I loathed you for your repulsion of me.”

“Hate begets hate,” Thisbe whispered, pressing her lips lightly against one of Fasul’s hands. “There is no time for accusations anymore.”

“Yes,” Fasul agreed sadly. Once more a comfortable silence encompassed them as the bustling city beneath them began to stir. The noise of several Vinol passing by their home on the heavily entrenched roads nearby broke their serenity, and Fasul slowly, regrettably released Thisbe from his arms.

“You’re going to the Palintheum(9) today?” Thisbe asked morosely.

“The issue of the Flood is still before the elders,” Fasul said, “Geul is reassured with my presence alongside him and the other elders. He has asked me to submit my own account to the Palintheum today so that it may be on record.”

“Why would he ask you to do that?” Thisbe asked, genuinely confused. “The Palintheum records are used to gather the thoughts of the elder Majal that are about to pass on. You are still young Fasul.”

“I know that well,” Fasul confirmed, his thick fingers tracing a small pattern along the sleeve of Thisbe’s dress.

“Geul knows of our child,” he continued, “And I believe he thinks that my position on the matter may change once you give birth.”

“Will it?” Thisbe asked, and Fasul could not help but hear her hopeful tone.

“No,” he replied, forcing the steely notes into his voice. “The elder families crafted the laws that govern our society for a reason, and I do not believe that we are meant to judge them, casting the laws that do not suit us aside at our own pleasure. The implementation of foreign genetics into our own physical corporeal bodies is considered a great sin amongst our people, and one we must never allow to occur.”

“You will never change your mind, will you?” Thisbe asked, then continued without waiting for his reply. “Majal children are the only age demographic that are susceptible to the D’orl virus these days Fasul; have you given thought to our child? What if she contracts the disease, like Absolon; will your feelings remain the same?”

“I could never answer such a question hypothetically,” Fasul said desperately. “Losing Absolon was so very painful, and I tell myself at every moment that if there had been something, anything that might have saved him, that I would allow its use within a heartbeat. But that is my grief, and my emotions speaking. The Flood DNA we’ve extracted from that parasitical species is untested. There is no telling what might happen to a Majal that receives the treatment.”

“What if it was proven? What if there were no side effects? Would you still deny that child the life entitled to them?”

“I do not know,” Fasul answered truthfully. “My love for you and Absolon, and the love I already feel for this child that is not yet born of this world…it is boundless. My faith in the elders is strong, but I do not know if it is stronger then my love and devotion to our family. Please do not ask me to make such a decision.”

“It is easier to look away from your future, Fasul, than to set your heart and your mind to the task of deciding what you might do in certain situations. The past exists for a reason, turn away from it, and you shall be cursed to share it‘s doom.”

The voice belonged to neither Thisbe nor Fasul and they turned, somewhat surprised to stare at the Majal that stood only a few paces behind them.

“Enorym,” Fasul spoke softly, his eyes narrowing fractionally as the younger Majal bowed almost obnoxiously from the waist. He was clothed in a tunic and linen that appeared to be threads imported from one of the Deadric Colonies(10). His face shared many of the attributes given to the Majal that once inhabited the southern continent, Gildrea, of Lithium. The skin was drawn taut over his skull, making his face appear far thinner than it actually was. The light-toned skin on his chest was offset by the deepening rouge that colored the powerful muscles of his back down to his lower thighs. Enorym was a mystery to Fasul, at times he could appear thoughtful and kind, while others he would be menacing and spiteful. His eyes were small, and gave the appearance that they could never be deceived, no matter how big or small the lie put before them.

“I apologize if I have disturbed you,” Enorym said as his eyes glanced briefly at Thisbe, and Fasul realized that his arms were still wrapped around his mate’s body. Slowly, so as to not appear ashamed over how he had been possessively holding Thisbe, Fasul removed his arms, briefly wondering if he should be annoyed at Enorym’s interruption, or thankful that he had stalled Thisbe’s relentless questioning of issues he could not rightly deal with.

“It is early, Enorym, and you do not often make house calls at this residence,” Fasul said, letting his tone convey his reproach to the younger Majal.

“An offense I am trying to right, my friend,” Enorym smiled, and Fasul wondered whether it was done out of merriment or malice. “I did not think that I would surprise you both. I sent a message earlier, did you not receive it?”

“Yes, of course,” Thisbe spoke, the first time since Enorym announced his presence. “I saw it when I awoke, it must have slipped my mind.”

“I apologize nonetheless,” Enorym said graciously, inclining his head slightly in regard to Thisbe’s forgetting him. He then turned to Fasul and his smile dimmed fractionally. “It was my intention to accompany you to the Palintheum today. You are indeed going, yes?”

I wonder how much of him wishes I would say no?

  • 05.17.2006 12:45 PM PDT
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“Yes, I’m going, and I accept your offer,” Fasul replied. Inclining his head slightly he met Thisbe’s eyes, and with a communicative nod he bid her goodbye.

Enorym’s eyes followed him as he stepped away from Thisbe and moved towards the other Majal. Wordlessly, Enorym led the way around Fasul’s home out onto the small section of roadway on which a Vinol was parked. They clambered inside, and as Enorym entered their destination into the transports module center, the silence between them was broken.

“What is it you wished to speak with me about?” Fasul asked, feeling it better to get Enorym’s true intention out in the open first off.

If Enorym was surprised at Fasul’s bluntness, it showed not in the least.

“You have been given the floor at the hearing today, correct?” questioned Enorym, then continued after Fasul nodded. “Geul is having you submit your account onto permanent record so that it may be read into evidence at any given time. That is highly unusual, and many of the elders do not understand the purpose behind this decision. Some believe that you have evidence that may be integral to the overall hearing.”

“And you have been sent to retrieve any confirmation or denial on my part?” Fasul asked, his voice incredulous. Enorym watched him for a moment as their transport pulled away from Fasul’s home and rushed down the roadway towards the bustling city of Lithia.

“Yes, many of the elders believed that because of our relationship, you may be more forthcoming then you otherwise might have been.”

Fasul could not contain his snort of indignation as he shook his head in amazement.

“I have not seen your family since…my son’s passing. Regardless, you were away in the Deadric Colonies when your mate passed on. Watching over your children was no burden, and it did not make us friends.”

“No,” Enorym agreed, “It did not. The pain of losing one so close, to a disease that should have been erased nearly thousands of years ago, that is what made us friends. We share that pain, you and I.”

Fasul chose silence as his response, inhaling deeply while casting his attention to outside of their transport, where the roads leading into Lithia were packed with other Vinol heading into the bustling city.

A city of death… My kin stand upon the edge of a great rise, they keep their gaze rooted to the sky, unable to see how close they now stand…so close to the end. In this city of lights, there is no life; nothing exists except for the wayward souls that have not realized that they are the waking dead.

Enorym is ruled by his emotions. His loss for his mate, and the fear he holds in his heart for his children is what drove him to the other side. Though I loath him because of it, he is true to himself, and I hate him for that because his truth makes my own hesitation more prevalent. He deserves no scorn from me, lest I wish to become any less of what I once was.


“I’m sorry, Enorym,” said Fasul. “These days I am often troubled, and I have been rude to you. I consider you a great friend, and I love your children as if they were my own. It has been too long since I last saw them.”

Enorym smiled gently as their transport pulled into the sparsely populated parking station outside of the Palintheum. The towering dome cast a shadow over them as the Vinol finally stopped, and the two Majal stepped free of the transport.

“You may tell the elders that as far as my knowledge contains, I hold no key to the success of either side in this debate. My account will show whatever it is that my heart contains, no more, no less.”

“A great friend indeed,” Enorym laughed, naturally. “The debate will last long today I fear, and I imagine much will be said before you make your statements. You tell me nothing, and yet I understand everything. When the hearing convenes for the day, I shall find you once more my friend.”

Parting then, the two Majal approached the Palintheum bathed in darkness, beneath its mighty shadow. The structure was the focal point of their society, and on this day, it would prove to be the ending of their people.

----------------------------------

The Palintheum itself was constructed many years before either Fasul or Enorym ever entered into existence. Built using the base metal compound, materia prima, found natively on Lithiom’s surface, the architectural masterpiece was a work of art in the eyes of many Majal. Magnificent, metallic white claws of divine glory appeared to stretch out from the ground and encompass the large oval dome that strutted out from the ground some several hundred feet. Reaching up, the divine talons stretched over the dome in an arching reach, creating a seemingly protective shell over it. It was as if the Palintheum were held in the grasp of a God.

For so magnificent a structure, the interior of the Palintheum was drab and plain in appearance to many. Seven wide corridors that led into the court from the exterior were positioned equally around the dome, and all entrances were often needed during the crisis that had swallowed up the Majal during the last few seasons.
Fasul was cajoled and bumped frequently as he passed through the tunnel, allowing the illuminating light which had no source of origin to ward off any irritation that lingered within him. He would need to keep his mind clear whilst undergoing the trial set for him this day. Any tribulations he might face would only be exasperated by feeling discomfort over the thousands of thoughts that run through his skull.

The atmosphere is tense, it seems as if everyone is at their breaking point, Fasul mused inwardly. I cannot blame them. This debate has gone on for so long, neither side has any understanding of what they are defending any longer.

Emerging from the narrow corridor, Fasul instantly caught site of Geul, who stood with several of the other elder Majal that positioned themselves on this particular side of the Palintheum. After a moment Fasul finally caught Geul’s eye, and responded to the elder’s wave with a moment of trepidation.

So over swarmed with my thoughts was I, that I did not stop to wonder for myself, just why Geul has asked for my submission to the court records. It is indeed an odd course of action, but I trusted in his judgment at first, and chose to keep any pondering to myself. Is the truth something so trivial as what I suggested to Thisbe? Surely my love for my unborn kin is deep, but I have yet to feel any guilt from traveling to this court every day, and sitting myself with those that would see the Majal stay as they are, even if it means allowing another Gray Season to pass.

“I am pleased to see you, Fasul,” Geul said as he wrapped an affectionate, if forceful, arm around Fasul’s shoulders. “Come, I’ll introduce you to some of the other elders.”

Three others stood waiting for him. Gilidor, a Majal of nearly a thousand years old, had a face that Fasul mused must have once been quite rugged. Age had softened his features however, and the once stiff skin was now sunken and weak, so much so that Fasul found himself wondering how the elder managed to see. The other two elders appeared to be related in some way, and Geul revealed them to in fact be brothers. Halpin and Nalhin, both could not be any older than a few hundred years old, making Fasul curious as to why Geul referred to them as elders. Typically that title was not bestowed upon a Majal until they were in the last term of their life, or if the remaining elders in their family line had passed on. More than likely, the two brothers’ parents had passed away, likely victims of the D‘orl virus during the Gray Seasons.

It was rare however, to see those personally involved with the D’orl virus on the side of those against further Flood DNA experimentation. Fasul did not question their motives like the other Majal did, for he himself knew the moralistic questions that likely plagued the two brothers at every waking moment.

“I cannot tell you how grateful we are that you have accepted Geul’s request,” Gilidor spoke. “There has been much apprehension amongst our people in how to approach this issue now that we are in the later stages. Putting forth the account of one such as yourself, who has felt the bitter pain of loss, yet stoically remains on the side that desires to heed the laws that our ancestors laid out for us, will surely become a real bargaining tool that we may use.”

Flattery. I am being praised by these people, and I do not care to know why. Do they look at the death of my beloved child as a blessing? The guilt and heartache that shall forever plague my dreams, is that something that they believe is a necessity?

“Please, I deserve no praise,” Fasul responded. “I do not waver from my own beliefs, and it is only a mere coincidence that they fall in line with what our elders have decreed to be law.”

  • 05.17.2006 12:45 PM PDT
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Momentary glimpses of surprise flittered across the other Majal, and Fasul recognized those expressions, and the weight they carried.

The looks of one who realizes he does not stand before a fool. There is regret and despair in their faces, for the weak and stupid are easy to mold and control in order to serve whatever purpose they have engineered for me.

The uncomfortable moment was ended when Geul stepped forward and placed his arm around the shoulders of Fasul once more.

“Time is short Fasul, I shall take you down to the floor where we shall prepare for your account,” the elder Majal explained as he led Fasul away.

-----------------------------------

The procedure for making an account before the assembled inside the Palintheum was not as easy as one might think. To guard against unsubstantiated testimony, and false truths, the Majal deigned with giving his or her account on a particular topic before the Palintheum would be situated within a cerebral chamber, strapped into a miniature dome that was situated beneath the floor of the assembly. On occasions where it was needed, the dome could be called to rise from its depths, earning it the nickname “Ashion”, an obstructive use of preexisting words within the central Majal dialect. The Majal dialect would be considered an agglutinative language, as it was mainly based around morphemes being joined together, though the races of Majal that initially were birthed on the northern continents of Lithium spoke a more poetic form, that took much longer to say things, yet often sounded nicer to those listening. The “Niantic” form, as it was called at this stage of Majal development, was often used in plays and other forms of phonetic entertainment as it lent a sophisticated and alluring sound to the dialogue.

Ashion was a melding of an ancient phrase, “Aisin hesina ionma ni” which when translated became, “From darkness, come perception”. When said in the Niantic form however, the phrase became, “Taken from darkness, shall perception be birthed”. The Ashion was aptly named, for it was perhaps the most intrusive creation to ever emerge from the Majal technological advancements. The machine would literally pull free the memories, thoughts, and images from the consciousness of whatever creature it was connected to.

It was not unheard of for a soul to be apprehensive when placed within its unseeing interior. The thriving hum of the equipment was the only sound heard, and the dome itself was thick, and incapable of projecting images of what was carrying on outside of its small shell. Though there was no physical pain, the host would be subjected to whatever memories the Ashion was sent to retrieve and display. For some it meant reliving painful moments.

This was what worried Fasul as the dome was closed and locked from the outside. He did not know what areas of his past could be of any use to the Palintheum assembly, and though he dared not to imagine it, he felt the trickle of fear that the others would seek to confirm his convictions. His trepidation came not from worries that his morals were not up to the task of close scrutiny but instead were birthed from his belief that memories relating to Absolon may be unearthed.

I spend every moment thinking of him, for these rare times when I am free of that burden, I cannot allow them to delve so deep into my past.

Fasul was, however, already placed within the core of Ashion. While he was not strapped down in any way, the dome had been closed, and there appeared to be no apparent method of opening it from the inside.

“Geul! Do not begin this process! I must speak with you! Geul!”

His shouts earned him no response, aside from the hum of the interior growing in volume.

Blast! I have assented to be their puppet for this cause, but I will not give them free reign over my mind!

With a cry of frustration did Fasul throw himself against the encapsulated walls that held him within Ashion. His efforts, though great, were wasted. The dome did not budge, and from the exterior no help come.

The sounds generated from Ashion were strong enough that Fasul could feel the vibrations of sound as they passed through his body. Pulsations through the dome grew in intensity, and Fasul began to fear for his life. The explanations given to him by Geul spoke nothing of this.

Light flooded the interior, blinding him as an unseen force shoved against the Majal’s body. There was only a moment to consider what it was that struck him before Fasul impacted the shell of the dome. His head cracked soundly, causing his already impaired vision to blur and darken. The world was swimming around him as inertia gave way, and his body slumped against the ground. Blinding light bathed everything Fasul could perceive at that moment, and in an instant, it was replaced with darkness.

-----------------------------------------

Awareness and light were foreign entities to him during this time. Floating amongst images of his past. Images of his future.

Fasul was trapped within a world of darkness, but had no understanding of that fact.

So terrible a thing it is to be a prisoner, yet have no conception of your imprisonment.

----------------------------------------

  • 05.17.2006 12:46 PM PDT
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sweet chapter Mr.Clark

  • 05.17.2006 12:50 PM PDT
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GLOSSARY:

(1) Kyl'shi - The older age demographic in Majal society. Think of it as becoming a teenager, only you actually have to do worthy acts to gain that recognition.

(2) Gail - The family heirloom. A coat of arms. An ancient weapon. Any of those things could be considered a Gail. It's simply a relic from family lines that is passed down from generation to generation. Oddly a big deal with the Majal.

(3) D'orl - You should've figured it out by now. Its a viral disease that attacks the Majal species exclusively. Children and the elderly are the most susceptible.

(4) Gavis - An avian type of animal, indeginous to the planet Lithiom.

(5) Gray Seasons - Considered at one time to be the most devasting moment in Majal culture. Of course, I'm sure we can all come up with one other event that just might have been worse.

(6) Lithiom - Birthplace of the Majal. Quite majestic too. Beats old dirty Earth any day.

(7) Beol Ceremony - The Majal equivalent to a marriage ceremony, only with a lot less people, and no need of a minister.

(8) Vinol - Personal transport vehicles. More attractive than our modern motar vehicles, and one millionth of the pollution output. Those Majal sure are crafty.

(9) Palintheum - Think of it as an ancient colosseum, only designed with craftmanship thousands of years ahead of our own. The Majal are boring though, and used it as a simple poilitical debating area.

(10) Deadric Colonies - A series of uninhabited planets that the Majal often use for natural resources.

...............

That is all.

  • 05.17.2006 1:01 PM PDT
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Suweeeet!!

  • 05.17.2006 1:59 PM PDT

Official Town Drunk of Sandwichia. Nation of the Flood.
MBT - Impossible Just Happened
* How is it that "Fat Chance" and "Slim Chance" mean the same thing?
* If you choke a Smurf, what color will it turn?

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I shall read it after football.

  • 05.17.2006 3:16 PM PDT
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soooo goood.... I want more.....

  • 05.17.2006 4:14 PM PDT
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~I was born for the storm, and a calm does not suit me~

CEC
╣Fire of Tru7h╠
The Campers

מִכְמַן

Absolutely amazingly good.

  • 05.17.2006 4:43 PM PDT
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Smurftacular!!!
Worthy of reading again!

  • 05.17.2006 7:24 PM PDT

Phoenix is dead, long live Phoenix!
Is it?

mmm, at os ood.

wow soo cool I couldn't type properly.

  • 05.17.2006 10:42 PM PDT
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I'm surprised you were able to post anything.

Poor Fasul....

  • 05.18.2006 9:34 AM PDT
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I feel as sick as you do Mr_Clark, but I am not a masochist and I'll sadly have to wait until I feel better before I read this. Besides, if I read it now, I wouldn't remember a word of it until my head gets out of the clouds

Feel better, kind sir

  • 05.18.2006 9:47 AM PDT
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i will read it on teh weekend, right now too busy playing the warhammer 40k game, its awesome, but the chap loks sweet, nice to have ya back clark

  • 05.18.2006 1:28 PM PDT
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I will always place the mission first.
I will never accept defeat.
I will never quit.
I will never leave a fallen comrade.

interesting chapter

  • 05.18.2006 1:37 PM PDT