Hey... welcome to my first fanfic... Please say stuff about it... even if
it's really mean... I like having comments... it makes me feel good
(pathetic huh?)
. . . . . . Oh and don't worry Lara is in the next chapter. I am just trying to build
suspense.
**8/4/2010 In my email inbox this morning was a little note from fanfiction about someone updating one of the stories I read many years ago. Comically, about the same time as my last email from fanfiction. It is odd how time passes, taking your memories with it. I was 16 when I started this story and now I'm 22. I aim to finish what I started. Also, as I was re-reading my old work, I noticed my lack of detail and found my work utterly abysmal. So I'm going to revamp it, starting with this chapter right here. I hope you readers will find the changes to your liking.**
. . . . . . I don't own Tomb Raider or Core Design or any other company affiliated with
it.
Rats
The wind was howling. A jackrabbit sprinted across the desert zigzagging to avoid the huge dust-devils forming sporadically around it, finally making it to his hole. A horse, jet black except for a white patch over its left eye, galloped over the dunes, its strong muscles throbbing with the effort. Its rider kept his head down and leaned close to its body, placing his hands around its neck trying to shield him against the sand. He had ridden for hours in the same position. His body ached and sand had made its way into almost every orafice due to the fierce sandstorm raging around him. He urged his horse onward, trying to make it go faster, but the rider could sense his horse was weak. They had to press on. Death was certain if they stopped.
They rode on. The rider pressed his horse, using his riding crop to provide extra persuation. He stole a glance upward, visibility was non-existant. The rider pushed his face against the horse again, determined to survive. He would not die like this, this would not be the end of him. He was Ghazi, a mercenary and warrior. It would take more than a little sand to bring him down,
Suddenly, all was quiet. No more howling wind, no more pin pricks of sand hitting unprotected skin. He glanced up. It was over. He looked over his shoulder and could see a wall of swirling sand stretching upwards as far as he could see. No, it wasn't over. The storm seemed - stationary. Having spent most of his life in the desert, the rider knew this was odd. Sandstorms move with the wind, so how was this one remaining paralyzed?
He dismounted, feet sinking several centimeters into the soft sand. Brushing himself off he checked his water supply. Mud. He cursed aloud. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a worn scroll. He read the first verse.
Through the land of many sands; That which falls from the sky as from an hourglass; To a place where Life Itself; Flows in the air.
He stopped reading there. Sand falling from the sky. He understood now that the storm had been the first test. Ancient magic was at work here.
A breeze kicked up, sending wind swirling to his nostrils. He could smell water. Consulting the scroll again he re-read it. Life Itself flowing through the air. Life giving water. He mounted his hourse again urged it to a gallop, racing across the sand. After a few moments he saw it. In the distance he could make out a waterfall pouring out into a vast lake. The man's small black eyes narrowed
and a half-smile appeared on his face. He kicked his horse in the ribs cruelly, causing it to rear and speed off full gallop towards the lake.
Arriving at the shores after a few minutes, the rider jumped off his horse and ran to the lake. Falling to his knees he scooped water into his hands and drank. After his thirst had been satisfied and his water stores replenished, he took time to study his surroundings. The lake was emmense, maybe a couple miles from shore to shore in any direction. The waterfall was also huge causing mist to fly into the air upon impact on the lake below. Encircling the lake were giant smooth pillars, spaced about 40 meters apart. He walked up to one and inspected it. They looked old, probably egyptian in origin. Other than that nothing. No markings, hyroglyphs, or paintings. He walked back over to his horse and pulled out the scroll. The next verse:
Out of place it seems; Leaping to preform miracles; When only a small hop will do wonders; Victory will be in sight
The rider's brow furrowed. Was this a joke? The verse seemed almost humorous. He thought. Why would leaping to preform miracles be out of place? Small hop? He looked around the perimeter of the lake again. Several minutes passed as the rider slowly searched the shoreline, looking for clues as to the meaning of the passage. Surely he wasn't meant to swim. Though he was athletic and muscular swimming wasn't one of his strongest points. He pocketed the map, confused to the point of frustration. Slowly roving his eyes around the shoreline they fixated onto a strange looking boulder on the distant shore on his right. Strange how he hadn't seen it before, it seemed very out of place.
Out of place! That rock was the only thing that seemed blatantly out of place! That must have been what the verse reffered to. He felt a short burst of energy from his discovery. He must get to it. He went over to his horse, mounted, and set off at a slow trot around the lake shore.
10 minutes later the rider found himself at the base of the boulder. It was much farther away then it looked, and several times more emmense. The whole thing looked like it was covered in pock marks, like what a stone from the moon would look like. Upon further scrutany however, the marks seemed to have a pattern. Maybe a form of writing? None that he had ever come across in any case. He shrugged it off. This must be the out of place item he was looking for. He jumped and caught the first ledge, and started climbing.
Reaching the top, he pulled himself up. It was unnaturally flat. Confidence swelling, he walked to the edge. Oddly, he wasnt as high over the water as he thought he would be from the long climb. He pulled out the scroll again, Leaping to make miracles. He understood what he had to do. He said a brief prayer to no diety in particular and jumped.
When he heard the splash his heart sank. However after a few moments he realized that he wasn't actually in the water. He crouched, ready for the worst. It felt unnatural; he was clearly standing in the lake when he should be swimming. He put his hand in the water. A few centimeters below the surface his hand met with an obstical. He sighed - glass. It wasn't visable from the shore because it was acutally underneath the water, not on top.
He stood up and looked toward the waterfall. Clearly visable in his current position was a small cave opening hidden in the cliffs near the cascading water. Victory was in sight.
The rider walked to the waterfall, carefully, as he was unsure when the glass platform ended. When he arrived at the cliffs he could see a hidden staircase behind the waterfall itself, seeming to lead right up to the cave. Hugging the cliff wall he inched his way behind the falling water. It was coming down hard and fast, not safe enough to simply walk through it. Reaching the staircase he sighed with relief. He sat on the fourth step and pulled out the scroll. There was no more verses. Putting it away he stood and slowly started to climb the mysterious stairs.
At the top, he entered the cave. It was ordinary, just as the pillars had been. No markings or beautiful artwork. The only thing that made it clear that it was not a natural cave was the fact that it was so square. He walked slowly through, listening to his own footsteps echo around the room. After a while he entered a vast chamber with a small pedestal in the center. He knew enough to be wary of traps. He walked slowly up to the pedestal, constantly roving his eyes around the room. He made it to the pedestal and stared down at it with triumph, for, sitting on the pedestal, was what he was after. He stood a few feet away from the pedestal and snatched the prize away with uncanny speed and lept out of the way. There was a sound from deep in the floor but nothing happened. He laughed to himself. It seemed the traps were out of order. He looked at his prize one more time before putting it in his bag. Smirking, he turned and disappeared into the darkness at the cave's entrance.
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So there you have it Chapter 1
. . . . . .
I will work on the next chapter for you all.
Review
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Special thanks go to the Goddess Z for her help with all of the
technicalities
