Before I start: I have no idea where to put this. There used to be a fanfic section but I have no idea where it went, so it's here for now. Without further adue, lets start the story.
It was a long morning as Asrid arose from his cottage in the regalian suburbs and made his long trek across the crown city. The Qadir noted the different cultures he surrounded as he walked through each area, his hair waving. He walked by the bountiful inner-city, watching the nobles chat over their wine. He stopped to watch a small ailor boy run to his mother, and it warmed his heart, somewhat. But he couldn't stop for long, for today was an important day, one he had been told to look forward to for several weeks now.
He had made it into a small, dusty building in the midst of the slums, right next to the river. The door creaked as he made his way inside, of which he was greeted by a stern faced, frail, brittle qadir. The man stood upon the floor, and replied to Asrid's entrance, "I'm glad you made it, son." Asrid gave a smirk looking up to his father , "The same goes to you, Sarad." Sarad pulled a wooden crate out from under a nearby desk, lifting the box onto the table, showing great emphasis in doing so, with both arms wrapped around the box for security. Upon the table, the lid of the crate was removed, to reveal a sea of hay. Sarad rustled around in it for a while before pulling out a rusted metal cube, with intricate designs and incomprehensible scribblings carved into the sides.
He rushed into the room, holding the cube close to his chest, like a child. He placed the cube on a pedestal in the middle of the center room of the building. He then looked down at his watch, and tapped his foot impatiently. A few moments later, a maiar rushed through the door. He was scrawny, and looked as if he could've been as old as Sarad. The maiar shook some water off, and rushed to a second pedestal towards the edge of the room, removed a small piece of a sponge-like substance from his pocket, and placed it upon the small wooden platform.
Asrid gave an inquirous glare to Sarad. Sarad noticed, giving explanation, "Oh, Asrid, let me introduce you to Swalhi, he retrieved our subject for the day." Asrid nodded to the maiar. The maiar looked at the scene, scratching his head, "So what you want sponge for?" Sarad explained, "You see, Swalhi, I have this box," Sarad lifted the box, "and it has this guy in it." Sarad continued, "and this guy lived a long time ago." Sarad paused, "if we could put this guy in something, he might tell us some neat stuff." Sarad paused once again, "We couldn't really find a body, and we're not sure he'll fit in any modern races, so, he'll probably fit in something incredibly simple, a.k.a, a sponge." Sarad finished his baby talk. Swalhi scratched his head spouting, "cool, can I watch?" Sarad nodded.
The next two hours were tedious. Swalhi sat and watched patiently as Sarad and Asrid marked up the entire room. Sarad had dug a book out from under his chair, blown the dust off of the book, and started writing scribblings of chalk all over the room. Asrid wrote what he was told to, but he couldn't understand most of it. It was like a puzzle for him, for he had a few pieces, but couldn't figure out where the rest fit in. After getting sore fingers from all the writing, they were complete. Swelhi was almost asleep by then.
After the chalk was washed from hands, and the audience woken from slumber, the ritual began. The sponge was splashed with a mystery liquid, that even Sarad wasn't even sure of the ingredients. Sarad called to Asrid to help him with the cube, grabbing it about in all sorts of weird angles, trying to unlock it. They were practically playing twister by the time the cube unlocked, knocking the two Qadir back. Swelhi was fully awake by now.
He had made it into a small, dusty building in the midst of the slums, right next to the river. The door creaked as he made his way inside, of which he was greeted by a stern faced, frail, brittle qadir. The man stood upon the floor, and replied to Asrid's entrance, "I'm glad you made it, son." Asrid gave a smirk looking up to his father , "The same goes to you, Sarad." Sarad pulled a wooden crate out from under a nearby desk, lifting the box onto the table, showing great emphasis in doing so, with both arms wrapped around the box for security. Upon the table, the lid of the crate was removed, to reveal a sea of hay. Sarad rustled around in it for a while before pulling out a rusted metal cube, with intricate designs and incomprehensible scribblings carved into the sides.
He rushed into the room, holding the cube close to his chest, like a child. He placed the cube on a pedestal in the middle of the center room of the building. He then looked down at his watch, and tapped his foot impatiently. A few moments later, a maiar rushed through the door. He was scrawny, and looked as if he could've been as old as Sarad. The maiar shook some water off, and rushed to a second pedestal towards the edge of the room, removed a small piece of a sponge-like substance from his pocket, and placed it upon the small wooden platform.
Asrid gave an inquirous glare to Sarad. Sarad noticed, giving explanation, "Oh, Asrid, let me introduce you to Swalhi, he retrieved our subject for the day." Asrid nodded to the maiar. The maiar looked at the scene, scratching his head, "So what you want sponge for?" Sarad explained, "You see, Swalhi, I have this box," Sarad lifted the box, "and it has this guy in it." Sarad continued, "and this guy lived a long time ago." Sarad paused, "if we could put this guy in something, he might tell us some neat stuff." Sarad paused once again, "We couldn't really find a body, and we're not sure he'll fit in any modern races, so, he'll probably fit in something incredibly simple, a.k.a, a sponge." Sarad finished his baby talk. Swalhi scratched his head spouting, "cool, can I watch?" Sarad nodded.
The next two hours were tedious. Swalhi sat and watched patiently as Sarad and Asrid marked up the entire room. Sarad had dug a book out from under his chair, blown the dust off of the book, and started writing scribblings of chalk all over the room. Asrid wrote what he was told to, but he couldn't understand most of it. It was like a puzzle for him, for he had a few pieces, but couldn't figure out where the rest fit in. After getting sore fingers from all the writing, they were complete. Swelhi was almost asleep by then.
After the chalk was washed from hands, and the audience woken from slumber, the ritual began. The sponge was splashed with a mystery liquid, that even Sarad wasn't even sure of the ingredients. Sarad called to Asrid to help him with the cube, grabbing it about in all sorts of weird angles, trying to unlock it. They were practically playing twister by the time the cube unlocked, knocking the two Qadir back. Swelhi was fully awake by now.
A light burst out of the cube, shooting into the air. Swelhi sat and watched, with eyes wider than the stars. The light shot up, angling itself around, noticing the symbols on the floor. After about 30 seconds of just looking, the light stopped, shot onto a symbol on the far side of the room, and started shooting between symbols all around the room, with each symbol disappearing after contact with the light. Asrid and Sarad jumped back. The light continued to swirl around the room, jumping from symbol to symbol like a rampant bullet, and finally jumped right into the piece of sponge.
Within an instant, the sponge started to grow. The three looked at the sponge with a raised brow. The sponge had grown to almost twice its size. Sarad stepped forward to investigate, but the sponge grew rapidly that moment, engulfing the pedastal, knocking Sarad onto his back, and consuming him before Asrid could flinch, sucking the old Qadir into the foamy, spongy depths. Sarad would've screamed, but Swelhi nabbed him, and sprinted to the door. The house was consumed by the time they left. Asrid couldn't get Swelhi's grip loose as he was pulled by the maiar through the city, then stopping at the port, and being launched into the water.
Before he could even get a second to breath, the maiar thrust himself into the water, grabbing Asrid once again and swimming off with him. They swam for a good 15 minutes, at high speeds, until they found a lone, anchored boat, in the midst of the waves. Asrid finally got a period of rest, when he was thrown on the boat by the maiar. The Qadir coughed violently, spitting out some salt water, and then broke to his knees and wept. He looked up at the maiar, and screamed, "He's dead!"
The maiar looked down to the Qadir, and gave him a hug. The Qadir hugged the maiar back, sobbing over his shoulders. "He was such a great man." Asrid said. "Why did he have to know, why did he buy that cube?" The Qadir inquired. The Maiar noticed something, and looked off to the side, disappointed. "They'll incriminate him, he'll be regarded as a terrorist." The Qadir wiped his tears, "Indeed," and looked to the ground frowning. The Maiar then looked off to the distance, "I don't think he'd like to have all of those people suffer because of him. We can sob later, but we must fix this."
Swelhi climbed into the cabin, emerging with a book in his hand, looking similar to the one the symbols had been written from. "I stole this from your father a while ago, when times were tough." Asrid was too distraught to be upset as he cracked open the book. "I can't read this," he said as he pondered at the symbols within the book. The maiar gave a concerned glare, looking towards Asrid, "Know anybody who could?" Asrid nodded, "There's a small Hadritya that was set up on a small island just north of the crown isle." The maiar replied, "Then were off."
The maiar fiddled with the rigging of the ship, and the boat made a hefty speed to the north. They passed by regalia on their way, it was a warzone. The most noticeable thing was a decent sized blob that had engulfed most of the slums. There was a Dwarven warship spitting fire at the goo, guards were throwing spears into the beast, but nothing was working. Asrid spied through a scope as the beast growled, and grew over, lunging into a tower and knocking the tower over. It would be hard to defeat the beast.
Within an instant, the sponge started to grow. The three looked at the sponge with a raised brow. The sponge had grown to almost twice its size. Sarad stepped forward to investigate, but the sponge grew rapidly that moment, engulfing the pedastal, knocking Sarad onto his back, and consuming him before Asrid could flinch, sucking the old Qadir into the foamy, spongy depths. Sarad would've screamed, but Swelhi nabbed him, and sprinted to the door. The house was consumed by the time they left. Asrid couldn't get Swelhi's grip loose as he was pulled by the maiar through the city, then stopping at the port, and being launched into the water.
Before he could even get a second to breath, the maiar thrust himself into the water, grabbing Asrid once again and swimming off with him. They swam for a good 15 minutes, at high speeds, until they found a lone, anchored boat, in the midst of the waves. Asrid finally got a period of rest, when he was thrown on the boat by the maiar. The Qadir coughed violently, spitting out some salt water, and then broke to his knees and wept. He looked up at the maiar, and screamed, "He's dead!"
The maiar looked down to the Qadir, and gave him a hug. The Qadir hugged the maiar back, sobbing over his shoulders. "He was such a great man." Asrid said. "Why did he have to know, why did he buy that cube?" The Qadir inquired. The Maiar noticed something, and looked off to the side, disappointed. "They'll incriminate him, he'll be regarded as a terrorist." The Qadir wiped his tears, "Indeed," and looked to the ground frowning. The Maiar then looked off to the distance, "I don't think he'd like to have all of those people suffer because of him. We can sob later, but we must fix this."
Swelhi climbed into the cabin, emerging with a book in his hand, looking similar to the one the symbols had been written from. "I stole this from your father a while ago, when times were tough." Asrid was too distraught to be upset as he cracked open the book. "I can't read this," he said as he pondered at the symbols within the book. The maiar gave a concerned glare, looking towards Asrid, "Know anybody who could?" Asrid nodded, "There's a small Hadritya that was set up on a small island just north of the crown isle." The maiar replied, "Then were off."
The maiar fiddled with the rigging of the ship, and the boat made a hefty speed to the north. They passed by regalia on their way, it was a warzone. The most noticeable thing was a decent sized blob that had engulfed most of the slums. There was a Dwarven warship spitting fire at the goo, guards were throwing spears into the beast, but nothing was working. Asrid spied through a scope as the beast growled, and grew over, lunging into a tower and knocking the tower over. It would be hard to defeat the beast.
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