ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
The rays of Halla scorched Peti's neck through the white veils while he climbed up the steep hillside of Hammer Mountains. The fine sand dust had dried his mouth and throat, but water had to be reserved for the return trip, and the liquid he was after was far from potable. If only his companion, Ustis, hadn't been devoured with most of their equipment by a nasty sand swallower. Onom's mercy upon their core, Peti reflected in the welcome shade provided by a large overhang. He soon realized that he was now very close to his destination since the overhang was shaped as an eagle spreading its protective wings.
Small window holes of the cave abode were well hidden amongst the rough rock formations, but small decorative features, such as stony flowers, revealed the place. Peti located the entrance under a tall arch guarded by a stone-conjured knight statue, which was threateningly holding a traditional Nendian warhammer in its right hand. Luckily, master Guenkue had taught him that no stone had brains of their own and the ancient spellmaster Kopánjaà was long dead. Thus it was safe to approach.
After lurking past the silent guardian into the portal niche, Peti could examine the door which turned out to be sealed. On the surface were embossed beautifully tangled vines which formed all kinds of knots around the edges and came to meet in a central circle. They reminded him of his parents' garden back at high quarters of Pranepva and he could almost smell the scent of flowering himbells. In the middle of the flower-patterned circular wreath plate was a hexagonal keyhole which Peti soon tried to manipulate. He tried to open the mechanism, but couldn't continue for long as spellcasting quickly increased his thirst and made his body warm too much. He took a sip of the canteen and felt how light it had become. In this dry atmosphere, water creation would only work if morning mist developed.
The orb of Halla began to fall behind the mountains, and Peti gave up, even though he'd felt something move inside the door. He needed to set up a place to sleep in and the niche seemed the only reasonable choice. He collected some dry bush branches and piled them on the left side of the stone knight. He created fire and warm flames started to lick the side of the statue, light flickering on the smooth surface. Then he noticed that the statue was holding something in its left hand. On closer inspection Peti realized that it was the key of the door hidden under his nose. As a precaution he decided to sneak behind the guard and try to take the key from there. With slightly shaking hands he tickled the stone to loosen the key and slid it from the guard's grip. That's when the walls began to moan and the statue vibrated.
Peti jumped back into the corner with the key. As the knight began to awaken, coming to this side of the statue now seemed like a terrible mistake. Opening the door might take too much time and the knight would definitely notice him. A stream of black, ancient writing flowed from the floor up to the helm and made the guardian move and glance around for the thief. At least know he knew this was the right place, and his kin might rise again after the recent banishing of Onom.
The fire, which lit the niche dangerously well, caught the knights attention and Peti knew this was his chance. He stayed still and casted a silent spell to push the campfire away from the niche. The guardian raised its hammer and began to hit, but missed as Peti pushed the fire even further away. When the hammer heavily hit the floor, however, it released a neutralizing wave which made it impossible for Peti to use the spell immediately after. Nendian technology had survived surprisingly well, but luckily its power had lessened at least that much that the wave didn't lock him.
The stoneheaded warrior continued its pursue of the campfire, not noticing Peti who'd began turning the key in its hole. The wreath plate turned as well and sent ominous snakes of text towards the knight running downhill under the starry skies to catch the dying flames still being pushed by Peti. Finally, the door could be slightly opened inward so Peti took the key and his backbag and entered the dark cavern, closing the door fast behind as the guardian rumbled rather close. With hollow bangs, the door resealed itself right before the knight rushed against it.
Peti made his hand glow and let it guide his way into the tunnel. The knight kept steadily hammering the door while Peti reached a great entrance hall and lit some torches. The place was much bigger than master had expected, and the details of the treelike columns branching dimly lit high above revealed how talented a spellmaster Kopánjaà had been. Suddenly, it was all silent. As a wave, the patterns of floor tiles flowed away towards the walls where between columns of stony vines stood more silent knights.
Holding a torch, Peti ran further in into the corridors while the knights woke up from their millennial sleep. More text slithered in his footsteps and attempted to rise onto his boots. He tried to burn the text following him, but heard how a hammer hit the hall floor and felt how the neutralizing wave painfully pierced him and caused his left, spellcasting arm to freeze. Peti fell, but had to climg up and continue when he saw the dark figures approaching.
Gasping, he stumbled into a large room which had a set of desks arranged into a circle around a female statue, depicting one form of the spellmaster. The other doors in the room only led to cabinets full of parchment, too small to hide in. Sweaty Peti had to gulp the last drops of water and face his destiny.
Two knights entered the room while a third one occupied the only escape route. Text appeared on the floors and walls as if approaching from a mist and more poured in into the room as snakes on the floor. The writing surrounded Peti who didn't understand most of the ancient Agurnumian Pókutiì, but as he dared to touch the script, it adjusted into his mothertongue Ljopva. He couldn't help smiling.
"Don't move," warned the text. "Write your name, origin and reason for entering on the floor."
Peti recalled that Kopánjaà had lived during the fifth era, around year 900, when Agurnumians and Western Kingdoms were hostile towards Ljopvan free and open-minded spellcasters and Twin Islands had fallen under their evil rule. However, Annals of Ljopva had told that she had supported Peti's ancestors even though in order to survive she had presented herself as being loyal to Centre. Thus he may reveal his true identity, but not when he was born - it might not be good idea to tell that its already almost the 600th year of sixth era.
"Pveti," he drew the mark on the floor with his finger and it sank into the tiles. He slowly continued drawing the logographic hexagons: "son of Atalse, apprentice of spellmaster Tiljus Guenkue, from Pranepva of Southern Twin." Reason... he pondered and decided to be truthful: "I seek for the mighty ink of Scriptorium for the glory of Ljopva."
Answer rose to float on the floor: "Your master's kin I recognize. Be welcomed as a guest." Knights lowered their hammers and writing flowed into the central statue which came to life.
Small window holes of the cave abode were well hidden amongst the rough rock formations, but small decorative features, such as stony flowers, revealed the place. Peti located the entrance under a tall arch guarded by a stone-conjured knight statue, which was threateningly holding a traditional Nendian warhammer in its right hand. Luckily, master Guenkue had taught him that no stone had brains of their own and the ancient spellmaster Kopánjaà was long dead. Thus it was safe to approach.
After lurking past the silent guardian into the portal niche, Peti could examine the door which turned out to be sealed. On the surface were embossed beautifully tangled vines which formed all kinds of knots around the edges and came to meet in a central circle. They reminded him of his parents' garden back at high quarters of Pranepva and he could almost smell the scent of flowering himbells. In the middle of the flower-patterned circular wreath plate was a hexagonal keyhole which Peti soon tried to manipulate. He tried to open the mechanism, but couldn't continue for long as spellcasting quickly increased his thirst and made his body warm too much. He took a sip of the canteen and felt how light it had become. In this dry atmosphere, water creation would only work if morning mist developed.
The orb of Halla began to fall behind the mountains, and Peti gave up, even though he'd felt something move inside the door. He needed to set up a place to sleep in and the niche seemed the only reasonable choice. He collected some dry bush branches and piled them on the left side of the stone knight. He created fire and warm flames started to lick the side of the statue, light flickering on the smooth surface. Then he noticed that the statue was holding something in its left hand. On closer inspection Peti realized that it was the key of the door hidden under his nose. As a precaution he decided to sneak behind the guard and try to take the key from there. With slightly shaking hands he tickled the stone to loosen the key and slid it from the guard's grip. That's when the walls began to moan and the statue vibrated.
Peti jumped back into the corner with the key. As the knight began to awaken, coming to this side of the statue now seemed like a terrible mistake. Opening the door might take too much time and the knight would definitely notice him. A stream of black, ancient writing flowed from the floor up to the helm and made the guardian move and glance around for the thief. At least know he knew this was the right place, and his kin might rise again after the recent banishing of Onom.
The fire, which lit the niche dangerously well, caught the knights attention and Peti knew this was his chance. He stayed still and casted a silent spell to push the campfire away from the niche. The guardian raised its hammer and began to hit, but missed as Peti pushed the fire even further away. When the hammer heavily hit the floor, however, it released a neutralizing wave which made it impossible for Peti to use the spell immediately after. Nendian technology had survived surprisingly well, but luckily its power had lessened at least that much that the wave didn't lock him.
The stoneheaded warrior continued its pursue of the campfire, not noticing Peti who'd began turning the key in its hole. The wreath plate turned as well and sent ominous snakes of text towards the knight running downhill under the starry skies to catch the dying flames still being pushed by Peti. Finally, the door could be slightly opened inward so Peti took the key and his backbag and entered the dark cavern, closing the door fast behind as the guardian rumbled rather close. With hollow bangs, the door resealed itself right before the knight rushed against it.
Peti made his hand glow and let it guide his way into the tunnel. The knight kept steadily hammering the door while Peti reached a great entrance hall and lit some torches. The place was much bigger than master had expected, and the details of the treelike columns branching dimly lit high above revealed how talented a spellmaster Kopánjaà had been. Suddenly, it was all silent. As a wave, the patterns of floor tiles flowed away towards the walls where between columns of stony vines stood more silent knights.
Holding a torch, Peti ran further in into the corridors while the knights woke up from their millennial sleep. More text slithered in his footsteps and attempted to rise onto his boots. He tried to burn the text following him, but heard how a hammer hit the hall floor and felt how the neutralizing wave painfully pierced him and caused his left, spellcasting arm to freeze. Peti fell, but had to climg up and continue when he saw the dark figures approaching.
Gasping, he stumbled into a large room which had a set of desks arranged into a circle around a female statue, depicting one form of the spellmaster. The other doors in the room only led to cabinets full of parchment, too small to hide in. Sweaty Peti had to gulp the last drops of water and face his destiny.
Two knights entered the room while a third one occupied the only escape route. Text appeared on the floors and walls as if approaching from a mist and more poured in into the room as snakes on the floor. The writing surrounded Peti who didn't understand most of the ancient Agurnumian Pókutiì, but as he dared to touch the script, it adjusted into his mothertongue Ljopva. He couldn't help smiling.
"Don't move," warned the text. "Write your name, origin and reason for entering on the floor."
Peti recalled that Kopánjaà had lived during the fifth era, around year 900, when Agurnumians and Western Kingdoms were hostile towards Ljopvan free and open-minded spellcasters and Twin Islands had fallen under their evil rule. However, Annals of Ljopva had told that she had supported Peti's ancestors even though in order to survive she had presented herself as being loyal to Centre. Thus he may reveal his true identity, but not when he was born - it might not be good idea to tell that its already almost the 600th year of sixth era.
"Pveti," he drew the mark on the floor with his finger and it sank into the tiles. He slowly continued drawing the logographic hexagons: "son of Atalse, apprentice of spellmaster Tiljus Guenkue, from Pranepva of Southern Twin." Reason... he pondered and decided to be truthful: "I seek for the mighty ink of Scriptorium for the glory of Ljopva."
Answer rose to float on the floor: "Your master's kin I recognize. Be welcomed as a guest." Knights lowered their hammers and writing flowed into the central statue which came to life.
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In