author isn't really dumb,
author is a good communicator"
The sun rises on a brand new day in the
realm,all is peaceful.
The beings of the realm watch the sun in its ascent and some show
this first glimmers of intelligence with eternal question ."Why ?". From
this first curiosity sprouts the first shoot of knowledge, the questions
becoming more complex until finally, as inevitably as death, two
branches of knowledge are formed. The one asks the question "How can we
use this to help us?", the other the more sinister "How can i use this
to help ME".
This marked the first division in the realm though no true conflicts
arose as each group steadily grew apart. Then gradually nature ran its
course and the population spread, land becoming more and more scarce, then
came the war.
A quiet war it was, all things considered, but a war just the same.
Quiet battles in quiet glades under quiet skies. Ah yes i hear your
thoughts, not quite the realm as you see it today? That is the crux of
this grim tale. The old adage proved true as the evil in the realm drew
the other evil to it , but not in a physical sense, would that it had
been that simple!
No my friend, the ties were not of the flesh but of the mind and the
evil grew strong in its unity, as impossible to fully extinguish as the
common cockroach. Yet the battle raged on in its silent form...the evil
learning at an astonishing rate, its communication with ANY of its parts
Fearing not for their own lives but for the souls of their children
and grandchildren, the Druids of the light drew together meeting in the
glade of contemplation. One hundred and fifty days they dwelt
together, testing, probing at the edge of the evil growing ever
stronger. "Were it to find us..." they thought "What then ?" ,
possible force can destroy this threat ?". But one among them rose and
"Brothers, this is not and has never been our way. Destroy
threat ? We would have more success trying to stem the tides." Angry
bluster and temper raged then and the one spoke again, quietly ,
softly, and silence spread through the assembled druids as they strained
to hear him speak. He smiled then, "Now do you understand? I stood here
and watched you wrangle at each others throats, shouting to be heard
above the others, yet speaking quietly i silenced you all. Attack is
not the way, we must simply counter as I countered your bluster with
Understanding grew then and the Druids works bore fruit. Pentagrams,
vast beyond vast, were created. Note youngster, CREATED , not build for
they were GROWN. Such was the power of the combined druid that they
could nurture their mother earth to produce their mysterious shapes. At
the center they stood. Five druids, and the one. All joined to their
brethren throughout the realm.
The enchantment was cast, such power as never before seen, nor since,
was released. Alas ! They were undone, the evil had found them and even now assaulted
the minds of the druids. One by one the five fell to their knees in
agony, all save the one. He alone stood, writhing in the agony of the
Through clenched teeth he space "You know what must be done!"
Without further talk the druids touched their staffs to the ground
about him, forming 5 points. The staffs began to glow and writhe in
their hands as each began to grow anew. Twisting, spiraling round the one
into a vast tree. Growing higher and higher.
Each Druid then muttered the words of power through their torment and as
the final words left their lips the tree began to glow. A golden light
seeping through its bark, flowing along its leaves becoming so bright
that none could look at it.
Looking back at what their magics had wrought they saw nothing. No
tree. No vast arcane symbols drawn by nature's hand. Each sought out
their brothers, reaching with their minds to learn what had happened.
None was successful. All knew the only conclusion, their was none left
to hear them.....and they wept at their loss.
And yet the world was different, reaching out through their grief
they found their missing brethren and yet not. All spoke at once, in
"We have met with success." the strange concerto of voices
"Success?" the five asked. "But only we remain."
"No. We are here. Will always be here. The teachings must not die
out. Go forth and spread this tale. Let those who would learn from you
do so, for they shall be pure of heart."
"And the threat? It is gone?"
" No. That is Our task."
"You can battle the thing?"
"In a way. It is my task not yours. Now go, teach, and fear
"Will you remain"
"Nay, we must leave lest the struggle rend the world apart."
"Your sacrifice will not be forgotten.We shall do as you
"We are glad. Fear not for we shall remain every vigilant."
"What are you called."
"We are MATRIX."
And so the battle goes on....quieter still as it is gone
from mortal eyes. Who knows how the battle fares ?
Composed by *** Wynd ***
Edited and published by <*<*<*AMystery*>*>*>
Special thanks to Empress Kiri
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