《The Mystery of the High Maiden (Marhahnyahm)》Book IV: Chapter 7 – A Story of the Mage III
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“That long!” shouted Tūmbṃār in surprise.
“Yes! But I don’t see the reason for surprise. After all, in that era, the powers waxed greater than they do today. And as you can very well see of my stature, I myself am quite different from you.”
While Tūmbṃār understood, to hear a person say it as nonchalantly as Hvālmēgkim, surprised him more than he thought. He never took such things seriously, but the world was a strange place and he, having already seen strange things, could not exactly discount the years if the mage himself was telling this to him.
“Continuing, I did so for a thousand years and after such hard meditation and penance, I heard a call. I opened my eyes and saw my body had been covered from head to toe in an ant-hill. But I would not move myself in fear of damaging it, though I did feel the ants burrow through my body, which was quite an odd sensation.
“But yes, when I opened my eyes, I saw before me, Ishvhaḥṃār themself, who came in form to greet me. Their body effulgent like the sun and their five heads facing to the north, south, east, west and tip of the universe, dressed in flowing raiment the likes of which resembled the myriad gems of the old, laced in gold and abounding in all heavenly delights.
“This great progenitor said unto me: ‘Such hard penance thou hast performed! Know that thou hath indeed obtained liberation by thy merits. The mantra thou hath chanted is none other than the name of the one who is to become a grand king of Ārhmanhaḥ. But he shall have to be punished and learn much before he attains to that state as an awakened one. When the time comes, thou shalt guide him and show him the path toward the Light. Know now that you are perfected, surrendered in all your being to That One and All, that not even the Gods themselves have yet fully attained!’ They then touched my head and continued: ‘Seeing as thou art now covered in an ant-hill, from this day forth thou wilt be known as: Hvālmēgkim! I have a task for thee to perform: create the script for Ahasṭṛṭhaḥr and compose the story of Sītṛa for all generations to hear! Let his story be heard across the Heavens, Hells, and Midworld.’
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“And in godly fashion, after giving me this task, he vanished. I was most perplexed upon hearing this, but I, nonetheless, felt a strange sense of calm. One I had never felt before and saw the world before me in a much different light. I looked to the trees, the rocks, the sky. Then to the ant-hill, the ants, and then myself. And could see That within all of it, indiscriminate in all its myriad forms.
“I called to the ants, and they stopped their work to listen to me. I told them to abandon their hill, and they did as I said. They scurried off, and I arose from the hill, shattering it to pieces. And when I had left it, I mended the broken form and let the ants go back to their home. And after that I bid the ants farewell and took my leave of those woods. I saw that the land had changed: new trees and hill had arisen in places I least expected. The city that was my home, that was in rubble, had been rebuilt anew, settled with peoples I scarce knew. They looked at me as if having seen a ghost, for I was covered in dirt and dust, with matted hair and a loincloth.
“They came together in crowds to chase me away, thinking me a demon of some sort, but a few of them looking to my eyes realized who I was and stopped the throngs from hurting me. They asked in distress: ‘Grahekart, where have you been all these years! We had thought you dead since the time the Demons invaded the city.’
“I simply laughed and told them: ‘Why I’ve been meditating in the forest and only now I have finished!’ And they looked to me like I was a madman. But seeing that I was serious, they did not question further. They then showed me back to the estate, and to my surprise, it had been rebuilt and left unoccupied. But I refused to go back, instead building this house at the top of this hill where I continued my earlier pursuits.
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“But I also had to compose the other work that Ishvhaḥṃār had asked me. But where to start? The man was not yet born, and it was not as if I had full command over the Ahasṭṛṭhaḥr language.
“It was then one day when I had taken a trip to the holy rivers of the East that I happened to see two birds that were dancing about. I called to them in joy but at that instant I saw they were struck together by a hunter and I in anger pronounced a curse on him who fled in fear of me. But as I uttered that curse, I found it strangely poetic and otherworldly. And I was given a vision of what was to come.
“And so as I produced my contraptions—including the chandeliers and oculus lights you no doubt must be familiar with—I increased my knowledge of the material world, and also wrote what I would later call the Sītṛāyastri: The Journey of Sītṛa. But just when I was about to finish it, those infernal Demons knowing of what was to come, sent their minions to my place and burned my house down! All I had recorded for the benefit of the Ṃārhaḥn had been taken away and, for the first time, I felt a dejection like none other.
“Yet watching all that work burn away, I heard a voice in the air; a light in the sky, and it soothed me. And perceiving it closely, I knew it to be the Light of That One—Lūshhaḥ! He had at least shown himself to me, and I could feel the presence of Arhaḥṃār working in ways unimaginable to me.
“That being of Light said to me: ‘Be not disheartened, great sage, for your mission is not yet done. Go to a place of seclusion and rewrite that work of Sītṛa. In time, he shall come to your abode and you shall teach him all you have learned and he shall, in the future, awaken to me. When he has fully done so, know then your mission to be done and your labors put to rest. The truth you have sought all your life, know it to be present in me and that I rest in all the Ṃārhaḥn alike: whether they be of the orders of the inanimate, the plants, the animals, the Mānuzhhaḥ, the Daivhaḥhō, the Dehaḥṃār or the Yavhaḥṃār. Now, arise you who now know me and do not fear, for truly you have lost nothing.’
“And when he had spoken those words, he vanished. Yet while he was gone in form, I could still feel his presence within and around me. And I took my leave from the city to rest within the Cedar Forest when its domain stretched farther than it does now. It would come to pass that I would meet Sītṛa when he was slowly being pacified by Adraghaḥ and thereupon guide him, but that is a story for another time.
“I hope this rather lengthy tale served to enlighten you just a bit.”
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The Violet Dawn (a dark litRPG adventure)
The Central World of Grandemyr, the highest of magical worlds— limitless and inexplicable, its vast boundaries roamed by countless existences of arcane abilities and power. Experiencing betrayal and death, syndicate member Kiera Ashborn wakes up in a forest at a remote corner of Grandemyr— devoid of information, weapons, and acquaintances, with only a plain white dress covering her new small body. With her only tool being her new homeworld’s system, Kiera will learn the joy of adventure and battle, stroll through fields of death, cross colossal oceans and encounter mystical races, with a set goal driving her forward— become stronger. Note for new readers: This novel is a work of fantasy that includes magic elements, thus— I strive to implement the reality of a world where humanoids hold supernatural powers and construct hierarchies based on their power levels. Inevitably, such a novel includes many negative elements which may traumatize some readers, such as and not limited to: rape, profanity, detailed violence, and sexual acts. The Main Character is a former assassin and thus more of a villain than an anti-hero, she shall value only what grants her maximum benefits, even over the lives of others. She is antisocial and prefers to work alone, she doesn't consider others as comrades, only as means to an end, and will have zero problems discarding them herself. Schedule: two to three chapters per week.
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8 153The Lost One
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8 131My Superhero Fantasy
A superhero story collection with innovated stories
8 182The Little Things...
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8 188Poems / Tula
This poem was made since I'm in Senior High School
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