I have a story idea. I have no clue whether it has been done before, yet I'm pretty sure that it has been brought up a couple of times. So, basically the Fellowship and certain other characters have been reborn into a new timeline and a new world, perhaps a parallel universe. They are in a modern world, where technology is perpetually advancing. Swords, bows, and arrows are no longer used, but guns and words are the dominant weapons. They are unaware of the greatness of their past lives and the new greatness that follows in their heavily veiled destiny. Although they are identical to who they were in the times of yore, they are ignorant of all that they knew in the past. When a new evil comes, spreading darkness over the dimensions; they are summoned forth to vanquish it, yet they do not know how. Thus come two others who have long studied them and their legacies. They rekindle the old flames that once burned vigorously through the chambers of their hearts.
Please do read the paragraph above from this. It has the basic summary of the outline of the story. Err... That was a bit redundant, wasn't it? Oh well, I suppose that it is all that I actually have. Please do not forget to write up a review for the story!
The Life Once Lived
Chapter1
Glimpses of a Dream
"What is happening Galbrannon?" cried an ethereal form of a striking women, her long, silver hair was dirtied by the flying ash and dirt. She ran towards man, who like her seemed otherworldly, yet fascinating, as the ground beneath them shook with a tremendous force. She staggered as a large tremor broke free, but the man, Galbrannon had caught her steadily.
They were in a large, stone hall. The walls were crackling as lava began to seep in. The statues and lanterns began crashing to their demise. And in the front of the entire hall, on top of an altar, was an urn. The container was still, yet thin, spindling cracks began appearing on its shining surface.
"Cenedril," He yelled to overcome the loud crashes, as the large hall that they were in began to crack and fall in places, as lava flowed freely, destroying what lay in its path, "It is the Enethui Rodon! He has broken free from his incarceration!" He held on to Cenedril tightly and shielded her from the obvious dangers.
"What!" cried the woman, as she held on to Galbrannon, "How is that possible? The Enethui Rodon cannot escape its prison! It is too weak to be able to summon up that much power!" She screamed as a nearby statue fell some feet away from them, "The only thing that can give him enough power is if-" She halted herself, not believing what may have happened, "No, it is not possible!" Galbrannon gave her a grim nod, "No!!!" She began to sob uncontrollably.
The urn suddenly shook violently, as its surface was riveted with cracks. The sound of nothing rang loudly and a blinding light filled their eyes. A burning sensation seared at their skin, as the deafening sound of explosion rattled their heads afterwards.
Galbrannon found himself half-conscious, yet there was a large wound at his side, threatening to bring him to death. He looked up at the hall, only to find a vast openness and mounds of debris. He looked within his arms and found Cenedril. Her back was soaked in her own blood, with a metal stand lodged within it. Her face was contorted with agony, yet the same beauty remained, "Galbrannon, don't leave me..." she uttered her last words as she fell to the Land of Shadows.
Galbrannon let out a cry of anguish and planted a soft kiss on her palling lips, but he was not through yet. He hoisted himself up, wincing in great pain. Galbrannon crawled over to a secret compartment, which had fortunately been left undamaged. He pulled out a white, wooden horn.
He returned back to Cenedril and held her hand tightly. With the other one he clutched the horn tightly. He began muttering sacred, yet forgotten prayers in the old language. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he cast the horn down on the ground.
As it hit the ground his body fell dead next to Cenedril's. When it broke a golden light shined forth, like a beacon into the thick blanket of the night. The light grew immensely until it covered the complete emptiness.
Then it all vanished...
"Aaahhh!!!" yelled Aragorn as he shot from his bed, beads of sweat dripping down his face. He began breathing heavily to catch his breath. Pattering footsteps were heard outside his door and inside his room arrived three others.
"Aragorn, what is wrong?" the eldest of the three, Elrond was his name. The other two, who were twins, slouched there groggily. Elrond crouched low to the shaken boy as the twins leaned on each other for support.
"I... I had a strange dream," murmured Aragorn, visibly calming down. He ran his fingers through his disheveled black hair and shook his head to jostle his thoughts. Elrond sat on the side of his bed.
"What sort of dream?" asked Elrond.
"There was a male and a female," began Aragorn, recalling his dream, "They looked human, yet they didn't seem it. The man was called Galbrannon and the woman's was called Cenedril." Elrond's eyes bulged at the mention of those names, and the twins snapped their attention to the dreamer, yet Aragorn did not notice, "They were in some sort of hall or perhaps a temple. It was falling to ruin," He gulped, "They were saying something like, the Enethui Rodon breaking free from its prison. Then there was an explosion."
Elrond nodded and the twins were now completely awake, "I see," His eyes flashed with a grave concern, "Quite an imagination you have there Estel," He chuckled weakly, the twins exchanged confused glances, pondering on their father's behavior, "I'm sure that it means nothing Aragorn," He patted him on the head, "Elladan, Elrohir, return to your room. You three must get ready for you schooling tomorrow."
"Wait! There is-" began Aragorn, but Elrond cut him off.
"It is alright Aragorn. You need not concern yourself any longer. It was merely a dream, a figment of your imagination. Go back to sleep," He exited the room shortly afterwards. Elladan and Elrohir shrugged and said their goodnights to Aragorn and they trudged out the door. Aragorn stared blankly, still rather shocked at his seemingly realistic reverie.
Drowsiness flowed through his head, fogging up his senses. His head collapsed to his pillow and he slowly closed his eyes. Sleepiness was overcoming him steadily. His thoughts began dancing, dispersing as they swiveled into the dark abyss of his mind. Slowly he drifted off to sleep.
And entered into a dreamless slumber...
"Aragorn! Aragorn! Wake up dear, little Estel!" cried a mocking, high-pitched voice, waking him from his slumber. He opened his eyes only to find another face merely inches away from his own. The face belonged to the younger of the twins, Elrohir.
"Do not wake me up like that!" yelled Aragorn, pushing Elrohir from his face. Elrohir let out a mocking snicker as he staggered backwards, "Man, Elrohir! I cannot understand how Elladan manages to survive, living in the same room as you!"
"What are you talking about?! You don't even know how horrible it is living and breathing in the same air as him!" protested Elrohir, while he was sniggering he bit into an apple he was conveniently carrying, "So, how'd you sleep last night, after you had your little dream?"
Aragorn rose from his bed and put his feet on the floor. He let out a yawn and stretched his arms, "I slept great! I fell asleep right away after you guys left. And then of course, I wake up to find your ugly mug barely some inches from my face!" He walked to his clothes closet and pulled out the garb he would wear on this school day.
"What are you talking about Estel?" said Elrohir as he fell on Aragorn's bed, "I am the handsome one!" He began fawning over his face.
"Elrohir," Aragorn said in a blatantly sarcastic voice, "You're identical twins!"
"Glad to see that you're still sharp as a golf ball!" disparaged the twin as he got up from Aragorn's bed and headed for the door, "Dad and Elladan are eating breakfast. Dad wants you to speed it up man! He says that we have to be at least thirty minutes early when we arrive there." He tousled the shorter boy's hair and with that he exited the room.
Aragorn picked his clothes without much thought, he went inside his bathroom, took a quick shower, and carelessly put his clothes on. He went to a full-length mirror and studied himself thoroughly, scrutinizing every little detail.
He was rather tall for his age. He had black hair that reached his shoulders. It was always tangled-looking, whenever he fixed his hair. His eyes were very deep. They could have been unreadable at times, yet during some moments, his eyes expressed so much meaning. His face was well-chiseled. His chin was prominent and his brow meaningful. His facial and physical features were quite impeccable. His limbs were long and sturdy. Aragorn smiled at himself and began striking a few poses in front of the mirror, knowing full well that Elladan and Elrohir would tease him mercilessly if the found out.
Aragorn sighed and excused himself from the mirror. He had to leave for another grueling day of grade-grubbing and word-lashing...
A site came into view. It was made of brick and its outer walls were covered in spindling vines. There were plenty of other buildings beside it, yet it was in the center and it looked far older than the others. It was the school that they attended. The center building and some others beside it were known as the Luthien Tinuviel High School. The other buildings made up the junior high and preparatory schools.
Elrond was the vice-principal of the school and one of the teachers as well. His subject was History, yet he substituted for some classes in Mathematics as well. The four exited the car and headed for the school building. They walked in silence, regarding this as just another school day of many more to come.
Once they reached some distance from the building's doors, Elrond stopped them, "I say these lines every single day whenever we arrive at school," He smirked at their hopeful faces, wondering if he would stop lecturing them, "But," Their faces dropped, "I do not intend to stop..." Then he yammered on about his usual sermon, from proper conduct to school rules. In the end, he turned to the twins, who were trying to stay awake, "Elladan, Elrohir, meet me in my office before you eat lunch." They nodded and Elrond walked ahead of them to the school.
The three loitered behind, "I really do wonder if he ever will stop with that talk," muttered Elladan, shoving his forcefully hands in his pockets as they trudged at a sluggish pace to the school.
"At least we know why he always wants us this early in school," groaned Aragorn. Since he was the youngest of the three, he was in a grade lower than the twins. He wasn't the most popular one in his level, yet he wasn't a social outcast either.
Elladan and Elrohir were very well-liked in their grade. They had gotten into plenty of trouble, playing practical jokes on students and teachers, pulling a few stunts at some very important events (A/N: They sound pretty much like another set of twins, wouldn't you say?). Yet they played well within their bounds, if not extending them a little bit. They walked deftly on the tight rope of detention and expulsion.
They entered the huge building, "See you later guys," Aragorn waved goodbye, walking off in his own direction, off to find his friends. He went to his locker to deposit his things and he knew that at least one of his friends was bound to be there.
"Hey Aragorn!" a voice yelled to him. He looked up only to see one of his close associates, Boromir, Son of Denethor, run up to him, "Dude, did you have to take your sweet time getting over here? I was stuck in this hellhole for an hour and a half now!"
"So, you're saying that you're thrilled to see me?" Aragorn snickered, knowing that it would miff his friend. Boromir whacked him upside the head, not bothering to reply to Aragorn's mockery.
Denethor was the son of Denethor, the School's Director. Denethor was probably as uptight as Elrond, and even stricter so. Boromir was a burly chap. He was as tall as Aragorn, but his build was more robust. He was a good-looking fellow, with lightly colored hair that was cut to where his shoulders were. He was rather popular with the ladies, since he was loud, outspoken, and at times a bit melodramatically poetic, unlike Aragorn, who remained aloof and unreachable.
"Whatever man," muttered Boromir, the two continued walking aimlessly, "Hey, did you hear?" he began excitedly, remembering a fact, "My brother, he's going to be attending our high school in a few weeks."
"Faramir?" inquired Aragorn, he knew the younger boy quite well. "I thought that he was still in junior high..."
"Yes, well all of the squirt's teacher's say that the work they give him doesn't prove to be a challenge to him," shrugged Boromir, but Aragorn could tell that he was beaming with all the pride he had, "They say that he is ready for high school," Aragorn looked at him queerly, "Yes, I know that I am supposed to be jealous! But somehow I do not envy him. I mean, I'm proud that my little brother is talented for his age and that he'll be studying in the same building as me," Boromir looked troubled at that point, "Yet Father has hardly given it any word. He has only given Faramir a good job and some junk he bought for him."
Boromir's brother and father had a rather unfavorable relationship. Faramir tried his hardest to be pleasing in the eyes of Denethor, thus excelling in his studies and following his father obediently, yet he was overshadowed by the greatness that his father saw in Boromir. Denethor paid Faramir slight comments, yet the praise he gave Boromir was boundless. But there was no animosity between the two brothers. They shared a great love for one another and an unbreakable loyalty as well.
They continued talking about random topics. The halls of the high school were still rather bare, but there were already some students who cluttered the hallways, such as Grima Wormtongue and Sméagol.
"Did you know that Eomer's uncle got him a new horse after tossing him a new car for no apparent reason? I mean, I'm pretty certain that Eomer loves horses, but his family's estate has more of those beasts than they have cars." said Boromir; the news had just popped into his head, for lack of anything else to talk about "He's calling the horse Firefoot or something like that, yet he refuses to let me see him!"
"Well, you do know Eomer," muttered Aragorn, "He's very possessive, and slightly obsessive over anything dear to him... his horses, his cars, all his useless stuff, he's even possessive over his uncle and sister!"
"Speaking of Eomer's sister," Boromir's voice turned sly, "I heard that his sister is transferring here."
"Eowyn is transferring here?" Aragorn asked out of pure curiosity, keeping his voice monotone, "I thought that she studied in a private all-girls school. And besides, isn't she only in junior high level?"
"Yes, but apparently Sir Theoden wrote a letter to my father and to the principal," who was Galadriel, "So, they allowed her to attend high school here," seeing no visible reaction from Aragorn, Boromir decided to rile him slightly, "Isn't Eowyn the one who has a crush on you? Or was she the Eowyn who proclaimed her love for you out loud, when she was seven years old, at Elrond's annual dinner party?"
Aragorn stiffened noticeably, "Yes, she is," Boromir was suddenly in a wave of snickers, "She is a very nice girl actually," Aragorn said weakly, not wanting to give into Boromir's methods of annoying him, "And I am rather certain that she has gotten more sense knocked into her brain after all these years."
"So you've actually seen her after that summer?" asked Boromir who recovered from his insane fit of giggles.
"Well no," admitted Aragorn, "But I have written some letters to her and I have sent some emails as well. She is rather strong-minded in the issues that she believes in. I believe that she is quite intelligent actually."
"Does she still seem infatuated with you?" Boromir asked with mock innocence.
"Boromir!" yelled Aragorn, but he wasn't all that surprised at his friend's incredulous behavior. With knowledge that Boromir was waiting for an answer, he said, "Well, Eomer tells me that she talks quite a lot about me during mealtimes, but that is all!"
"So, you have never actually, face-to-face, seen her?" Boromir prodded on for answers.
"As I said awhile ago, I've been keeping contact with her through some letters and emails."
"Yes, that's all well and good, but have you seen here?"
"No, why?"
Boromir let out a gruff grunt, "Well, someone told me, he visited the estate of Eomer and his family. He saw Eowyn and he said that she was hot!"
"What? Who's hot?" a new voice entered the conversation. Aragorn and Boromir swiveled themselves around to see whom the voice belonged to. They stood rigid in their spots when they saw who it was.
It was Eomer...
It wasn't that they were not on friendly terms with Eomer. In fact, he was in their group of close friends. He was slightly shorter than Aragorn and Boromir, but he made up for it in great burliness. Eomer was very protective of his sister, which was probably the reason why he was relieved that she went to an all-girls school. If he had heard them talking about her in that manner, the two would be beaten alive. Eomer had rather dangerous connections.
"Well? Who are you talking about?" he asked, not suspecting a thing going on. Aragorn visibly relaxed, a smirk forming on his lips, while Boromir's body was still rigid straight and the wheels in his head were busy trying to figure out a good reason.
"You see Eomer.... Um...It's... Do you know...Err...?" Boromir stuttered ungracefully.
"Oh, well Boromir was talking about your sister," Aragorn said matter-of-factly, "He said to me that he thinks Eowyn is really hot!" He smirked as he saw the look on his friends face. It was a mix of mock hurt and pure terror.
"What?" Eomer's voice became cold and steel-like. He swiveled to Boromir dangerously, "Boromir, What do you think of my sister?" His voice was ominously low.
"Now Aragorn," His voice was abnormally high and squeaky, "You deluded blatherskite! I never said that I thought that she was hot!" He gave a hollow laugh. Aragorn was stifling guffaws at his uneasiness. "It was that bloody Wormtongue I tell you! I heard that he's been spreading rumors around the campus that Eowyn is madly in love with him!"
"WHAT?!" he was clearly pissed off, "WORMTONGUE!!!" He bellowed, his voice echoing through the halls. He stormed off to find the miserable cretin. Boromir let out a huge sigh of relief, while Aragorn was clearly laughing his head off.
"Why did you do that dude?" hissed Boromir, when Eomer was out of earshot, "You know how insane Eomer gets when it comes to his sister? He would have killed me on the spot and hopefully mangle you a little bit!"
"Oh come on! I was just poking a bit of fun at you! And besides, you can consider this payback for that little stunt you, Faramir, and Legolas pulled on me two weeks ago," Boromir's face was one of complete confusion, "You know, the one with the spark plugs and short circuiting!" The look on Boromir's face changed from confusion, to realization, to utter smugness.
"Oh that stunt, you were talking about that stunt" murmured Boromir, stifling in all his giggles, "The idea wasn't mine! It was all Legolas and Faramir. All I did was the short circuiting!" protested Boromir, "Speaking of Legolas, where is he anyway?"
"Probably in front of his vanity mirror brushing his hair," laughed Aragorn, Boromir joined in the snickering as well.
"I'll have you know you lousy loutish laggard," a new, clearly insulted, voice, entered the conversation, "that my father kept me late. He was busy lecturing me on that prank we pulled on you some weeks ago!"
"An appropriately accomplished alliteration, Legolas," laughed Boromir, "But seriously man, you have to admit that you really love your hair?" They greeted their friend with hard handshakes and fake punches.
Legolas was a very good friend. He was rather tall and quite fetching, or so the ladies had said to them. He had long blonde hair that always seemed to be washed and conditioned. They had made a lot of jokes about the fact that he cared so much about his hair and that he spent hours in front of the vanity mirror, being well... vain.... But somewhere along the lines it had gotten rather old.
"At least I have a sense of hygiene, unlike you two vagabonds," snapped Legolas, inserting a grunt, to prove his masculinity. The three had begun walking down the hall again. Their group of friends, Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, Eomer, and when he was there, Faramir, had a rather peculiar relationship. Somehow they were comfortable with all the insults and putdowns that were aimed and fired at them. They insulted each other frequently, yet no one really seemed to care. Compliments and insults were pretty much the same thing for the five of them.
"Tell me Legolas," began Aragorn, stifling his snickers...
"What is this 'hygiene,' which you speak of?"
"Figures some commoners like you wouldn't take a bath unless bound, gagged, and knocked unconscious," Legolas sneered good-naturedly, "Speaking of a grubby little commoner... where is Eomer?"
"Beating the crap out of Wormtongue," laughed Boromir.
"Again?" asked Legolas, "What had he done now?"
"Oh, he had become Boromir's scapegoat is all," replied Aragorn, as if it was nothing; "Boromir and I were speaking of him and then his sister. Boromir said something slightly out of line and Eomer was there to catch it... Pretty basic stuff, if you ask me."
The four, or five if you wish, were extremely close friends. Aragorn had met Legolas a long time ago. Boromir and Faramir were brothers. Yet somehow, Eomer fit right into place. The five were different souls, yet kindred spirits. Each longed for acceptance and adventure, yet none lusted for glory.
Glory was a side dish that came on the plate of destiny.
Aragorn was the in all likelihood the most aloof of the five. He did enjoy the company of his friends, yet he found solace in solitude. He did not mind getting his hands dirty and doing things on his own. He was very educated, after being raised by Elrond; he had to be, and spoke many tongues and knew of many foreign customs. His past was similar to a broken road. He traveled it straightforwardly, yet there were many empty gaps and uneven pieces, preventing him from the journey back. He knew little of his parents, only their names and their parents names before them. He was an excellent leader, he practiced marksmanship, and he had very keen senses. He sought out answers to his past, his dreams, and all that perplexed him.
Legolas was slightly less complicated. He was the son of Thranduil, one of the richest men in the known world. It was even said that his father and he were descended from an ancient line of landed gentry, hence the vast estate and mounds of money. He was at times, theatrical and extremely lyrical, which helped him quite a lot with the ladies. He loved nature and all that breathed in the bittersweet fragrance of life. He enjoyed his studies, although not admitting it to his comrades. He was a skilled marksman, he practiced with a shooting rifle, and at times he went hawking with his father. The rich were allowed to have their eccentricity after all...
Eomer was quite similar to Legolas. Although he himself had lost his parents, he had gotten to know them well enough to grieve at their deaths. His parents, Eomund and Theodwyn, were quite wealthy and had been very much respected in the community. He and his younger sister, Eowyn were sent to live with their uncle, Theoden, and his son, their cousin, Theodred. Eomer wasn't afraid to show his emotions, not that they consisted of anything sensitive. He was quick to rage, yet fast to forgiveness. He could be very logical at times, yet he usually played things by how he felt. He could be very overprotective, especially over his sister. He was fond of horses and slightly preferred them to cars.
Boromir was a mix of both Aragorn and Eomer. He was born into a wealthy family as well. His father, Denethor, loved him with all the emotion in his heart. He was very much accepted by his family. He took leadership when necessary and he brought gratification to inflate his father by giving him awards of leadership, physical achievements, and satisfactory grades. He had a quick mind, yet he refused to apply himself completely into his studies. Boromir was more eloquent with his actions, than with his words. He had courage and determination, Denethor prided his son in that. He loved his younger brother Faramir very much, and he was not embarrassed by that note. Generally, everyone would assume that he had the perfect life...
Faramir was a mix of all of them, yet altogether he had created a new persona. He was aloof like Aragorn, he was poetic like Legolas, he cared a high lot for his family like Eomer, and he wished for his father's approval like Boromir. His father had shown him affection, as little as it was. When he had accomplished something a monotone 'good job' or if he was lucky some sort of money bought reward. He was usually able to speak with his father, yet it seemed that Denethor had always paid more attention to Boromir. For as long as Faramir could remember, when Boromir had a problem and Denethor was locked in his study, Boromir was allowed to barge in and talk to his father. Apparently Faramir didn't have that liberty. Aside from that factor he was a rather good person. He got high grades and was talented with words and public speaking. Perhaps the one thing lacking in him was confidence...
They were stuck in their fifth class. It was Social Studies. They were discussing the different myths and legends, and past kingdoms and civilizations. They were all bored out of their wits. Their teacher was a short, stocky woman, with a gigantic mole on her neck. It wasn't very pleasing to stare at, but the attention it demanded was horrifying.
Boromir and Eomer were currently talking...flirting with some girls who sat in front of them. Legolas was busy writing in some sort of notebook. And Aragorn was trying to pay attention to the teacher without having to look at her.
The other students were similarly not paying attention, well not all of them... Gimli, a short, stocky student, was etching some symbols on his desk. Wormtongue was nursing his bruised skin, shooting Eomer glares every so often. Gollum was fidgeting restlessly in his seat. Sam, a short fellow, was had fallen asleep and was snoring softly. Frodo, another strangely short student, was on the verge of falling asleep, yet he forced himself to copy at least some notes down. Merry and Pippin; both were cousins to each other and stunted as well, seemed to be taking down notes as well, yet in truth they were plotting for their next great prank. Haldir looked very bored, but he copied notes down diligently.
Aragorn could sense his friends not paying attention. This was how they operated. They wouldn't need to listen. They knew that they were smart enough. All they had to do was study up before a big test. But Aragorn did not want to tempt fate so boldly... He wanted to stay safe, although occasionally slacking off... Elrond demanded good grades.
Their teacher, Lady Caspaius, was reciting from a book, the Journal of Porlas, who was an official who outlasted the civilization, through its birth and its fall, as the words and details began appearing on the large virtual blackboard, for the students to copy notes from. Yet no one really seemed interested...
"...And so the Civilization of Perseimous had built its first foundations... The Civilization prospered immensely, with its center of trade and commerce, Kasati, and its world-renowned sea port, Novari. When its founder, Emperor Perseiminn, reached the nineteenth year of his rule, he soon realized that his people began to doubt him and his rule. They lost their faith in him, thus they lost their faith completely, for in Perseimous, there was no religion.
"So, the Emperor, to solve this problem he read many books of ancient writing. There they stated a God, very dormant and very powerful. A great deal was required to awake the God. He needed a vast open space, a gigantic statue depicting the God in all his glory, yet it had to be made from feathers, a huge temple that worshipped his greatness, and a portal way to the World of the Dead.
"The Emperor, although very wise, was very desperate as well. He cleared off a portion of his city, transferring all those buildings to the northern part of his Empire. Many were displeased, yet some had flourished in success. This task took four years His next task was to make the statue. He summoned all chicken breeders and bird keepers. He took all their feathers and began constructing the large statue required of them. The task was completed in twenty-three months. The temple was the next requirement. He used all the finest stones and all his finest architects and carpenters. He made use of semi-precious and precious stones. He used gold, silver, and dhalseer, a very precious stone which is found only in Perseiminn.
"Dhalseer was a very treasured sort of stone. It had no use for sword making nor did it have any strength to be the basic structure of a building. They had learnt that lesson during the Fall of Hagya's Tower. She was the Emperor's spouse. Dhalseer is only used for titivation. Those royal, noble, and very wealthy adorned their clothing, jewelry, furnishings, and some use them for their inner walls.
"Returning to Perseimous, Perseiminn's last challenge was to open a way to the World of the Dead. He researched on this subject for two years. Finding many ways, though many were either too inhumane or nearly impossible to accomplish, yet on the second year's seventh month's third week's fourth day, he found a way to accomplish it, yet he would not tell anyone on how, until a week after he had discovered means of how to open a portal.
"On the day itself, he summoned forth all the beings in his empire. He climbed to the zenith of the cliff, which was opposite to the temple he had built, and spoke out loud to his people in their native tongue, which here in this book translates to, 'My dear Perseimions, I know that you have all suffered greatly, moving your homes, slaving for a gigantic temple, building a vast statue out of bird plumes, and yet I gave you no reason! So, here I stand now, speaking to you all, pardoning myself for all the wrongs I have committed. I have only asked for your sweat and blood, for you. You labored only for yourselves and you shall ultimately be rewarded in the end. For I have searched for a God for you! I have searched for one, to whom you can pray and instill your faith in. You may not always love the emperor to whom you serve, yet you shall always love your God, for he rewards those who are just, yet he punishes those who are unmerited. Everything you have given, shall be returned to you in a new, much better form. Yet, this God is not awakening yet, there is one final step.'
"He began walking to the complete edge of the cliff's peak. He had a sickle in his hand, it was made of bone, yet it was mixed with gold and silver. He began to chant some ancient hymns to the God. Then he yelled, 'Awaken, God Arbalan!' Then he leapt into the open air, falling down from the cliff's peak. In mid-air and in the midst of all the cries and gasps, he swung the sickle at his throat. Red blood spouted from the base of his neck. The crimson wetness flowed down his wear of finery. Head and Body became divided. His body fell to the rocky, uneven ground, yet as soon as it had hit, a black smoke exploded from the ground, along with mounds of rock debris. The people were much too far to be affected though.
"As the smoke cleared, a bright light was seen, shining up from the sky. From up beyond, a divide was made through the colorless clouds. An ethereal figure came drifting down from the rift. The figure was tall and built well. The figure, obviously a man, was clad all in white and his face was obscured by the blinding light, yet after some minutes the light cleared and his face was visible. He had very well-chiseled features, and was to put it plainly, extremely stunning. He raised his long arms up and spoke in a rich, regal voice, 'Perseimions, I have been awakened by the man who was your emperor! He relieved me from my sleep and requested me to be your God, to give your crops life, to guide over your children, to send the spirits of the dead to where they should lay rest! I am the God, Arbalan!'
"The eruption of claps was explosive. In the open air of the field, the applause raged fiercely, as did the heaving sobs, rejoicing over their God, yet grieving over their Emperor. But then Arbalan spoke once more, 'Dear people do not despair over your Emperor! Although he has taken my place in the Eternal Sleep, so moved was I by his love for his people and his empire. Thus I rewarded him, for he has done an act of sacrifice. I have made him like me! He is now to be known as the Erui Rodon, the First Divinity. Perseiminn has become a Demi-God to you!'
"Then the Emperor's wife, Empress Hagya, ran from the crowd into the space in front of Arbalan, and she fell on her knees on the rocky ground, 'Please, your Greatness, God Arbalan! Let me speak to my husband! He has left us so suddenly that we stand here now in shock! Please, Arbalan!' She begged so piteously that the people who praised, admired, and groveled to her were greatly perturbed. Her sons and daughters ran to her side and groveled to him as well. Soon the civilization's people followed as well.
"The God looked shocked at her outburst, yet his expression was not angered, he had compassion etched on his striking face, 'My Lady Hagya, Perseiminn has become the Erui Rodon, the First Divinity. He is now the Idhui Rodon, the Sleeping Divinity, as he did take my place in the Eternal Rest, yet perhaps he may awake, be his will strong enough.' Then he tore his gaze from the queen and looked up towards from which he came from, 'Awaken, Perseiminn... Erui Rodon!'
"Lightning struck the ground at the Perseimions feet, yet the weather remained normal and tranquil. There were no waves of rain, yet the lightning began striking the ground on which they stood upon incessantly. Yet after one particularly large bolt, a deafening crack was heard from above. A new rift between the clouds had opened next to the one of Arbalan. A new figure descended from above, yet it wasn't as luminous, nor was it that large. It was their Emperor, the Lord Perseiminn.
"He arrived to them as he had left them...His face craggy, yet handsome, his eyes intimidating, yet affectionate... Yet the only difference was seen on his throat, an ungainly scar circling his entire neck. He looked at his family and his people with grim love, 'Hagya, my dear wife, forgive me for such a rash action, yet you yourself know that it is all necessary. My children, I love you all entirely, though I must beg for forgiveness, for causing you great distress. Gaulfar, my eldest son, I pass on my rule to you, child, may you govern your people justly and wisely. And of course, to my fellow Perseimions, my people to you I must beg for the biggest pardon! To any of you who have lost a loved one due to me, to any of you who had suffered without reason, to any of you who were wronged by me, and to any of you who questioned my rule, I asked for clemency, and that I wish that you do not justify him with your controversy about me. For, I can assure you that he is far better.'
"He raised his eyes to Arbalan, the one being higher than he. Arbalan nodded silently, and Perseiminn said his final words, 'I am no longer your Emperor, yet I am still serving over you. I am now The Erui Rodon!' Lightning flashed once more, yet this time the earth shook violently. Arbalan was muttering incantations and moving his arms in ancient positions. The two of them were covered by a wraithlike light. Another explosion commenced, and the light vanished. There were the two Gods, yet Perseiminn was changed. He was no longer upright and alert, yet his body was curved backwards, and his eyes were shut. His heaving chest was the only sign of his life... Then the two disappeared, in another burst of sightless light, and all was as it was, yet somehow...different...
"So, the son, Gaulfar took the throne of his father, and the God Arbalan guided over Perseimous with their first emperor, Perseiminn, the Erui Rodon. Gaulfar's rule was quite prosperous, they had expanded their lands, and money was plentiful. After he had died, he became the Edwen Rodon, the Second Divinity. His son, Gauldor, who inherited the throne, became the Third Divinity, and so on and so forth. There were seven divinities all in all, when the Dynasty of Perseiminn was ended.
"Yet something happened, something that should not have come to pass, yet did inevitably... The Sixth Emperor of Perseimous, Farastos, was by far the greatest Emperor to rule over Perseimous, next to Emperor Perseiminn himself. Emperor Farastos had tripled all their lands, he had won the Empire many wars, he had advanced technology by an amazing rate, and he had businesses flourishing so greatly, that not only was the Empire rich, yet the commoners as well. He was loved by his people and was greatly mourned for after his death.
"He too had become a Divinity, he was known as the Enethui Rodon-"
"What?!" a voice cut though Lady Caspaius's droning listen. It was Aragorn, surprisingly enough, he had been listening. He asked her, "Did you say Enethui Rodon?"
"Well, yes, I believe I did," She stuttered, she muddled herself as she was thrown of her momentum, "Why do you ask?"
"Err... no reason ma'am," Aragorn blubbered, feeling embarrassment, "Please, continue..."
"Alright, let's see... Oh, yes... He was known as the Enethui Rodon. He was prayed to very often, even more than the other divinities. He was asked to let one person's crops thrive, yet the competition's to wither. He was begged to let one's business prosper, yet another one's business to fail. They offered him everything they had, from the harvest, to money, to blood sacrifices. The seeds of pride and greed were sown into his soul. Evil followed soon after. His mind, once tranquil and right, was now scheming and angry. He did not wish to be a Demi-God. He lusted for the power of a true God. He wished to revolt against Arbalan. He formed, in secret, a band of demons, deluded angels, and the spirits of those dead who were faithful only to him. They were known as the Farastosi. With them he planned to commit foul deeds, yet he was stopped by Arbalan, who saw everything.
"Arbalan, sensing the evil within the Enethui Rodon, imprisoned him in a hall, known as the Hall of Farastos. He was imprisoned in an urn of great power. The Farastosi were hunted, yet only few were found and killed. Farastos's two guards were these two beings, not living, not dead, not immortal nor mortal and neither, human nor angel. They were-"
"Galbrannon and Cenedril," murmured Aragorn, yet Caspaius heard it clearly.
"Why yes, Aragorn... Now returning to the Empire of Perseimous..."
She continued on with the lesson, yet Aragorn no longer paid attention to her or to the queer looks given to him. His thoughts were in a blur, meshing and mixing as they pleased. That place, that happening, those beings, they weren't figments of his imagination as Elrond had said they were.
They were something else...
Can you call this a nice beginning to my story? I know it's really long, but most of it will be necessary in some upcoming chapters. I hope that you all liked the story. I just came up with the idea one day and I decided to give it a shot, I hope that it was worth it. I had a lot of fun writing in, especially during the Perseimous part. It was interesting to write, even if you may be bored reading it. I can't tell you how many more parts like this there are going to be in the story, because even I don't know. I'm just coming up with everything as I go along. That is my writing style, as unorthodox as it is. I don't have a beta-reader and I can't seem to write regularly. Some useless stuff always comes up when I do try to write. Sometimes it takes me a long time to update, while other times I can update just two or three days after I put out another chapter, but then I am not promising anything at all. Hey, wait! Listen, if you are confused or anything, you can ask your questions through reviewing or even emailing me. My email address is in my profile, of course. I'll just say it one more time if you didn't read it the first time. I hoped you liked my story and this chapter, and I will really try to update as soon as bloody possible, though I don't exactly know when that really is. Please do not forget to type me up a review!