Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Search Members Calendar FAQ Rules Portal
  • Navigation
  • Scriptures Of The Arcane
  • →
  • The Arcane Library
  • →
  • The Globe
  • →
  • Fan Fiction
  • →
  • The Burning
Welcome to Scriptures Of The Arcane. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
The Burning; Chapter 1
Tweet Topic Started: Apr 7 2009, 07:25 PM (70 Views)
Post #1 Apr 7 2009, 07:25 PM Taceo
As previously stated, this is the new topic for chapter 1, the old topic located in the general area of the Globe was for the Prologue.




Enjoy.





The people that crowded the streets of this city were in such a state of disarray, and in such large numbers, that it almost shocked Rakeil. Almost, that is. He had been there for days, and his first and foremost thought about the city was that it and its people reminded him of vermin. The city was the sewer tunnel, with its dark, dank alleyways, the piles of rotten garbage that dotted the walkways, the small watery layer over seemingly everything, and the pollution filled air. The people were the vermin that inhabited these places, with their filthy rags, their horrible hygiene, and their unkempt appearances, with most of them looking as if they had never seen or heard of the marvelous invention called a razor.

Obviously, Rakeil stood out amongst these decrepit peoples and their forsaken city. He wasn’t even from this damnable place, but he had to stay there as part of his assignment for the next two weeks. And what a damnable job of his it was.

Rakeil worked as an intelligence gather, almost a scout or spy of sorts, for the world government. Of course, if the people here knew this, he would surely be found dead by the next morning in his apartment, bludgeoned to death with improvised weaponry. Found in the rundown apartment he was to stay in, nonetheless.

Truth be told though, he had no base to complain about anything here. He looked like them all, he fit in to the crowds perfectly. Here, the way he looked now, made him just another face in the sea of nameless people.

His face, which was usually clean and shaven, was covered in a light dusting of soot and he hadn’t shaved in days. The ragged beard becoming more apparent as the days passed. His hair was filthy, and covered by a tattered old cap he had gotten from one of the stores along the filthy street. His clothes were in even worse shape that the hat though, as it was only a worn and beaten old turtle-neck sweater, with it’ original dark green and blue pattern hidden beneath layers of dirt and assorted filth, and a well-used pair of black slacks. The final piece of his outfit was the small, black, tattered briefcase that he held in his right hand with an odd lumpy package inside of it. Of course, he had a filthy brown leather jacket with it all, but it was too hot to be wearing it outside today.

He calmed himself down as best he could. After he met his informant and received the drop, he would be out of this den of vermin. That seemed to calm him down a bit, but his grip never loosened on the small, tattered briefcase he held in his right hand. He continued on through the dismal streets. His eyes darted back and forth as he walked by the people on the street. He could see their empty, greedy eyes as they followed the briefcase in his hands.

He walked on through the fetid streets, ignoring the masses as they passed him in waves. It took nearly an hour of walking, but soon he had made it to his destination. Near the outskirts of the city where the buildings began to distance themselves and the beautiful dessert beyond them became visible through the cracks. It would not be long before he could walk through it one last time before being relocated on another mission of sorts. He longed to just ignore the drop point and continue walking towards the desert. With its rare and beautiful flowers, the majestic white sands, and the abundant night life that was found nowhere else. He suppressed the urges though and continued on.

The drop point was just ahead of Rakeil’s current position. He could tell because it was marked by an old, burned down building that was now a pile of rubble. He noticed that it seemed like an odd place for a drop, seeing how this part of the town was even more crowded than the central areas. The outskirts of town were mainly inhabited by beggars and peddlers, lying in wait for the next group of travelers to pass through. It was too open, too accessible by anyone who wanted to intercept them, or to try and kill them both, but it wasn’t his choice to make.

He walked as inconspicuously as he could up next to the building, all the while wondering why the people passing by looked at him strangely. Their eyes looked at him with a sort of demented pity, almost as if they enjoyed his unseen misery, as he stood there waiting for the informant to show up.

His curiosity got the better of him and he turned to face the blackened rubble that sat behind him, wondering why they kept looking at him and then at it. Atop the rubble sat a small black book, its spine and covers faded from the harsh elements it lay vulnerable to, but the spine still had some of the gold lettering upon it.

The Chronicled Truth.

Such a simple title, but it intrigued Rakeil nonetheless. He quickly picked it up and stowed it into the briefcase before anyone could notice what he had done. With the book now in his possession, he could give the package to the informant and move on into the dessert, where he could take a look at it that night.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The dream. That damnable atrocious dream. The visions of despair plagued me again this night. Such a marvelous place it was, with such beauty, such wonder. Oh how I wish that that part never ended. But it did, as it always has. The beauty became overtaken, ravaged and decimated. Replaced only by despair, by darkness . . . . by death.

Such as always, I should explain my dreams before I rant about the darkness they foretell as I forget this is one of the first entries within this small, depressing book of mine. A place of such beauty, cannot be consciously imagined nor created, only dreamt of in the deepest of sleeps.

-+-
Entry 1: Gardens of Desert Glass

Such abnormalities were never normal within such a world we exist with, but in dreams, such a place is possible within the realms of dreams. Glass, it was everywhere, beautiful, colored, and majestic glass.

Hmmm, maybe it would be better to describe the locale first.

A fairly large clearing sits within the center of an old oak forest. The oak trees stand tall and proud, with only minimal spacing between their growth plots. Their roots entwining with each other as they contend for the precious ground on which they so rely. On the trees at the outermost edge of the clearing, rose vines have crept up the trunks and have their blossoms of varying reds and whites. The colors ranging from a soothing pink to the darkest violet imaginable, and from the purest of whites to the most shocking shades of gold. They dot the trunks like hands reaching up from below, grabbing hold and attempting to drag down the highest leaves to their level.

The rose’s tendril vines didn’t end with the trees though, as they reached down to the ground and snaked their way further into the clearing. Their vines weaved back and forth, entwining with each other, forming a thorny carpet upon the ground with which the grass beneath it could not penetrate. The vines forced their way into the field until they dissipated into the mass of dahlia’s that covered the ground around halfway into the clearing.

The dahlias were possibly even more awe inspiring than the roses that choked the ground before them, with their beautiful petals reaching up towards the sky in their blossoming glory. Their petals followed one of the most unorthodox patterns one has ever seen, with each individual petal being a different color. The color patterns changing from a combination of pink, purple, and red, to the oddest color combination of indigo, gold, and white.

The final touch of the breathtaking plant-life within the clearing was the beautiful and sweet smelling hyacinth flowers that were scattered throughout the clusters of dahlias. Their flowers standing above the dahlias, like steeples on church buildings. Saturating the air with their beautiful aroma. Giving a beautiful color to the view with their purple, blue, white ,and pink blossoming flowers.

It was beautiful to see it from where I was, from the trees covered in the grasping roses, to the blankets of roses and vines that extended into the field, to the final beautiful display of the roses blending into a stunningly orchestrated field of hyacinths and dahlias in an illustrious display of colors and an intoxicating aroma.








(hopefully, that's all fixed from the original and it's mistakes.)
Edited by Taceo, Apr 22 2009, 08:10 PM.
Member Avatar
Amadare wa chi no shizuku
Posts:
1,547
Group:
Scripturian
Member
#84
Joined:
November 20, 2007
Dead like the heart that rots in my chest.
Quote Post Goto Top Offline Profile
Post #2 Apr 7 2009, 07:26 PM Scorp
All better. ^^
Member Avatar
Scorlak/Crimbait
Posts:
1,384
Group:
Scripturian
Member
#10
Joined:
March 31, 2007
Scorp: I'm going to take some pictures of me with cat-ears and a lion's tail.
Fenrisulfr.: What?! That's a terrible idea!
Scorp: ...Why? I'm a sexy beast!
Fenrisulfr.: You'll turn into Crim-bait!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
RP STATUS:
MW: The Darkest of Ages:
Shut down, but successful.
MW2: Inception of Discord: Closed indefinitely.
Quote Post Goto Top Offline Profile
Post #3 Apr 22 2009, 08:11 PM Taceo
It has been updated (see first post). READ NAO! >:3
Member Avatar
Amadare wa chi no shizuku
Posts:
1,547
Group:
Scripturian
Member
#84
Joined:
November 20, 2007
Dead like the heart that rots in my chest.
Quote Post Goto Top Offline Profile
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Free Forums. Reliable service with over 8 years of experience.
Learn More · Sign-up Now
« Previous Topic · Fan Fiction · Next Topic »
Add Reply

Track Topic · E-mail Topic Time: 7:17 PM Jul 10
Hosted for free by ZetaBoards · Privacy Policy