Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Story Seed - Monument

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Ikarun trod the path, picking his footsteps carefully, the paving stones were worn and uneven, roots grew up between the stones adding to the difficulty of the footing. Ahead a flock of jubjub birds took off from their perch on the largest monument. bird droppings covered the narrow ledge an dripped down over the side like wax down a candle.  Below the vines creeped upward, roots digging into the stone like miniscule fingers.  The two would meet eventually, and eventually the monument would be lost in a tangle of droppings and greenery.  

Other smaller stones were already lost under moss and vine, or worn and faded by weather and age.  Soon this place would be all but forgotten, disappearing beneath the heels of time and nature. Ikarun walked to the largest monument, the massive obelisk towered overhead, markings marred but guano. He sighed and tapped the stone with his staff, waiting, and then tapping again.  "Come on out spirit, come on out if you want to be set free."

He waited, certain that there was some aged spirit inhabiting this place.  The people of the nearby village had long since forgotten what this place was built for, why these monuments had been built so long before. They had forgotten all of import but they knew of the spirit of this place. Or possibly spirits, though Ikarun doubted that there were many, at most a few, and very likely only the one.

After a good half hour Ikarun sighed, thinking that this would have been better had the spirit come freely. He shrugged off his pack and set about preparing the ritual to cleanse this place by force.  Candles, incense, offerings of fruits and meat and coins; all were arranged around the chalk inscription.  A six pointed star, with himself at the sixth point, and a soul cage at the center.

Slicing his palm he prepared to draw the spirit out and trap it in the cage, freeing this place of its haunt, and adding yet another soul to his menagerie.  "I am so sorry my tenth great grandfather. I had hoped that you sought peace and would willingly go if offered your freedom. The people of the village, they have grown to fear you because they have forgotten you and this place. I am sorry, but their ignorance forces our actions."

Ikarun sliced his hand and allowed the blood to drip onto the soul cage as he chanted the ritual words. The tears that fell from his eyes were not components required by the ritual, but they aided the capture of his ancestor's soul regardless.


Summary - The legacies of years gone by often clash with the lives of the present. For one soul sorcerer duties to the past and present collide.

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