NationStates Jolt Archive

The summer heat beat down upon the Island, extracting a tithe of sweat from the toilers on the ground. The grand destroyer, the sun, had returned with a revengence.

Socolis had no time for the heat. Though his aides sweltered and buckled under the strain, he remained firm and resolute, and no beads of sweat fell from his forehead.

We must stop sir. It is near midday, we cannot go on in this heat.

Socolis stopped, and stared pittingly at his panting aide. He gave a curt long.

Then I shall not stop you. Rest here. I myself shall continue.

To the absolute astondment of his companions, he shed his pack onto the baking ground, and strode towards the looming temple. The temple which had haunted his dreams. It was so close, his anticipation was palpable, he could not give up now.

Laden Homoioi, it's name subconsciencely resounded in his ears. He had to go on, he had to know....

It loomed in front of him, the engraved women and warriors of old seemed to watch him as he stood gazing into the enticing void of its interior. Their long dead voices beat around his ears, whispering to him to enticing secrets of a civilisation long lost.

Scrolis harbon ahmond nesch, Laden Homoioi ahmond nesch.

He was not unnerved. He knew that nothing was more important than the temple, and of the secrets that it may hold. It's ruined interior beckoned to him, enticing him, enchanting him. A force entirely seperatre from himself lifted his foot, and crossed the threshold.

Almost immediatly, his legs gave way. He had never experienced such feelings of weakness, such helplessness. His feet were lost to his feeling, and before his shocked eyes they greyed and hardend. He could hear somewhere in the vast expanses of the past a chant, the beat of a drum. Beat, his legs were gone, envoloped in stone. Beat, he lost all sense of feeling in his groin, and felt an absolute sense of release from his animal needs. Beat, his chest, his arms his neck....as the world drew distant the inexoriable drum beat grew louder. As unconscience took him, the beats of his heart and the drum had become one.

OOC: AAAAAAAAH **runs away**

He stirred, his body feeling once again whole. He blinked in the half light, seeking explanation, seeking understanding. As he opened his eyes, his first thourght was that his brain had betrayed him, his imagination finally breaking the bonds of logic.

The temple was whole. Once a shell, it had been re-built. Or prehaps, he mused, it had never fallen into disrepair. Polished marble shined in the twilight, statues of heroes and long forgotten God's looked down on him, echos of deeds of heroism which had not survived the test of time. In the background, the drum started again, accomanied by a mournfull, lamenting chant.

Li shel gronc, et li shel gros. Laet li shel starx, et li shel tros.

Something deep inside him awoke, an acient memory that had survived death and countless generations. Now, he understood.

He shall come, and he shall go. But he shall stay, and he shall know

A deep, reverberating voice cut into his thourghts,

And now you shall know Socolis, now you shall understand who you are, and why.

Who are you? Why am I here?

We are the old Gods. You are here because of who you are, and why you were born. You are the desendant of Liliousis the Great, you do not know this. It is because of your blood that you are destined to do our biding.

Socolis stood dumbstruck, feeling utterly alone and frightend.

Why did I dream of this place?

The voice was silent for a minute, before the answer came.

Two and a half thousand years ago we were at our peak. You know this. The truth is, however, that even Gods feel the cold embrace of death for the want of faith. Our power waned. Our shrines fell into dissuse. Our holy sites were pillaged by the monotheists. Our power, had been broken. Yet our memorys remained, where the love of our existance had been strongest. This temple was one such place, and now with your presence, the presence of the blood which first made us whole, we live for a moment, before being cast back into the abyiss of non-existance. We had to lure you here Socololis. We had to.

The feeling of insignificance grew. Socololis knew that powers greater than himself, greater than Momanguise were at work here. His comfortable world of pleasure evaporated in the face of this new, great task that awaited him.

What is it that you want of me?

The beat and the chant grew in a cresendo, echoing from the sacred halls. Socolis knew that his fate, his divine purpose was about to be revealed to him.

You are the chosen of the Gods. You are our chosen son. We call you here not to prolong our own existance, but to save Momanguise from utter destruction.

The voices paused, Socolis took in the absolute implications of this statement.

What do you know of the legend of Liliousis and Snegall?

Snegall, the daemon of fire, ruled the land of Momanguise with a sword of flame. The Daemonic tryant murdered thousands, and yet with each he killed his anger would grow greater. Eventually, Liliousis, chosen of the Gods, did battle with the Daemon and banished him from the mortal realm. Upon Lilousis's death, his sword and....and the great pearl gifted to him by the Gods dissapered, it is said that the Gods hid them in fear that a lesser mortal than Liliousis may use it for less scrupulous means.

Snegall, or Draxxak'karon in the Daemon tounge, was sealed away from the mortall realm for five thousand years, such was our punishment. We had not bargained on our power beeing so....weakend. You see, though Gods power comes from the people who serve them, a Daemon is the incarnation of human evil, something which never dies.

ooc: I'll have to continue this later.