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Member
Join Date: Dec 2005
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The Ishrali God
Title: The Ishrali God
Genre: Fantasy
Author: Me
Completed: Chapters 1-6
(Only Chapter 1 is in this post.)
Looking for: Any comments. (But I already have all spelling/grammar errors down on paper, I just need to add them into word, so I don't need spelling corrections.)
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Chapter 1: Vis Voco Deus:
Rain relentlessly rammed against the earth. Any dry dirt quickly melted into mud. Balthazar, the leader of his village and tribe, was nearing the end of a long trek up Union Mountain. He was going to lead a Tribal Council. It would be the last Tribal Council if he could not save his people. His people called themselves the Ishrali. Balthazar’s tribe’s existence was in jeopardy. That is why the Tribal Council had been called. He and the other leaders of the Ishrali were meeting to see what options were left.
Balthazar’s bare feet squished into the brown, soft mud. The slippery wet mud tickled the gaps between his toes. His legs were caked with dirt. Balthazar looked up towards the heavens. His deep, green eyes looked at the churning, skies that were thick with ominous clouds. Even Balthazar’s piercing stare could not penetrate the thick, dark cloud cover. His thin clothes, saturated with water, stuck to his skinny frame. He had no fur or leather hide to shield him from the sharp wind that whipped around the peak of the mountain. Water beaded off of his soaked, white hair. He carried a traveling pack on his back. His aged, gnarled fingers gripped his walking stick.
Muddy streams soon formed and ran down the side of the tall mountain. They picked up speed and raced down the side of Union Mountain like brown snakes. They curved around rocks and eroded the topsoil. Balthazar continued on, numbed by the wet and the wind, he could no longer feel his hand or feet. When he reached the top, he looked upon the Council hut. Gusts of wind smashed thick rain drops against the thatched roof of the hut. The hut was situated on the top of the massive mountain. The Council Hut was his final destination; he approached the large door. He rapped four times with the head of his walking stick. The other two leaders were already inside. They opened the door and let him in.
Surrounding the mountain were the last three villages of the Ishrali tribe. The Ishrali had fallen on hard times. Previously when this has happened, an elder from each village would meet in the hut for a tribal council. Inside the hut, sheltered against the elements, the three wise elders sat cross legged around a dying fire. The glowing embers reflected in Balthazar’s eyes as they watered. His face was worn with deep wrinkles and scars. His leathery skin covered his frail, starved body like a creased robe. Gaspar and Melchior were in similar conditions. Gaspar and Melchior stared, searching his eyes for a flicker of hope. Balthazar was the leader of the capitol, the strongest village of the tribe. He was thus the leader of the tribe. It was an unwritten rule that the others must voice complaints first.
Gaspar: “My village is weak; sickness has killed many of my people. We must take measures to safeguard our traditions and culture.”
Melchior: “Mine has lost entire fields to hail and bugs. Rats scurry underfoot, looking for any last morsel of food.”
Gaspar: “We must act now, with confidence. What are problems in your village Balthazar?
Balthazar: “Our enemies approach my village in greater numbers. Soon there will be snow on the ground. We have not the wood for heat or food for eat to last the winter.”
Gaspar: “Nor mine.”
Melchior: “Nor mine.”
Balthazar: “What do you believe is the solution?”
Melchior: “The only wood we can use if from the empty houses of the dead soldiers. However, that will not last. We will die from starvation this winter even if we don’t freeze. I have no solution.
Gaspar: “We cannot hold any defenses without supplies. We cannot produce enough supplies for our soldiers. The only way to gain supplies is to capture them. The surrounding villages are far too strong.
Balthazar: “We know what must be done. It is our last resort and hope. A tribal council has not been forced to attempt this for over a thousand years. But we must.”
Gaspar: “No, I will not agree. Not that, we cannot, I cannot. To much wrong has come from that box.”
Balthazar: “We have no other choice.”
Melchior: “I agree. Balthazar is wise and our leader of the capitol. Good or Evil, whatever may come out of this it may save our people.”
Balthazar: “Usually we need only a majority for decisions, but in the case of attempting a Voco Deus the council must be unanimous. Gaspar, what is your decision?”
Gaspar: “I will do what is necessary, but regretfully.”
Balthazar: “The council is unanimous.”
Balthazar pulled a large, leather sack from his traveling pack. After he undid the strings, Balthazar was able to pull a bejeweled box from the bag. Vis Voco Deus was etched across the top of the box.
As it was required, Balthazar asked the required questions.
Balthazar: “Are you prepared to go all the way with this?”
Gaspar and Melchior: “We are prepared, great master.”
Balthazar: “Are you prepared to die to bring forth a deity.”
Gaspar and Melchior: “We are prepared to put forth our lives for you.”
Balthazar: “And for our people?”
Gaspar and Melchior: “Yes, Master.”
Balthazar: Many have opened this box before us. It has created demons of the night. It has empowered heroes. It has changed the very ground we stand on. Pray we do not meet what Pandora did when she opened the box. We will die when we access the void through this ancient tool, for mere mortals cannot enter it. One spirit will pass through; it is the spirit’s power, its destiny. The void is empty and will try to become full with the earth once the earth and the void are connected. This two-way portal will allow the spirit to leave the void. Let us summon the spirit now.
Balthazar, Gaspar, and Melchior: Power of Life, Power of death, we call upon thee. Bring to us a lord to be bestowed with everlasting glory. Release a spirit from the void. God of light, Demon of Dark we call upon thee. Vis Voco Deus!
Immediately all of the three elders’ eyes glazed over. Their hearts stopped and their muscles relaxed. The top of the box flew open. The ground shook and the earth quaked. The embers in the hut exploded in blue flames. A white light flowed from the box like a liquid then rose to the center of the building and formed a sphere. The second it formed the sphere the portal was opened. A great wind blew from all directions towards the sphere. The grass outside the hut bent towards the white sphere. Trees arched in its direction. The rain and water on the ground were sucked into the sphere. The entire hut crumpled and was sucked into the white sphere. As more and more entered it the sphere grew in size. Clumps of grass, twigs, small pebbles, dust, and dirt, all orbited the sphere and eventually were sucked in. Finally, there was a loud popping noise, the sphere shrunk into obscurity, and then there was silence.
Nothing except the closed bejeweled box sat on top of the mountain. The hut and the three elders were gone. Trees were stripped of their leaves; they stood like skeletons still bent towards where the sphere/portal had been. The dirt and grass had been stripped off. The top of the mountain was left bare. Rain still smashed against the desolate top of the mountain.
At first, it had been quite for me. It had always been quite. Mortals would describe it as the moment when they are both asleep and awake. For me each second is and eternity, yet eons pass in the blink of an eye. When I was there, in what some call the Void, I had no feelings or emotions, no thoughts; existence was all I had. Then, it happened. I was torn from my place within the void.
Place is a relative term that is limiting when trying to describe the void, because the void is no where, but everywhere at the same time. You cannot travel to it, or see it or feel it. I cannot describe it because I was not truly in existence until I left it. Time, space, dimensions, do not exist there.
But whence I was carried from it, I was forced into the open air of the earth. I had arrived.
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