A moment of decision
 

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UP: Chesapeake

    Gentle swirls of mist wrapped lazily about the trunks of moonlit trees, tendrils probing for remnants of heat within the dampened bark. Creatures of the forest stared about unmoving, not wishing to disturb that which the night had become. In the distance, slowly drawing near, a hoarse coughing and the crunch of beleaguered steps began to sound.

    Quiet muttering heralded the arrival of what at one time might have been an unusual figure. Now, however, even the robe that caused so many to stare in respect hung about the sparse frame like any other piece of cloth. The soft gold bands adorning it tarnished. Leaning heavily on a staff of polished wood, the figure shook with a chill that overtook his body and with legs shaking stumbled towards a fallen log. The effort of sitting was more then apparent.

    Propping the staff against a nearby tree the figure sat in silence for a moment. “Daemeon you are a fool..” the man’s weary voice muttered from within the deep hood. Staring into the darkened mass of trees he sighed. Was my choice right? A cool breeze sliding through the air caused dreams of evil to take life in the stirring shadows of the foliage. I know you wait to see what I will do. I know. Taking a ragged breath he reached into the pack at his side and pulled out an old book and quill set. Frowning at the darkness he held up a hand. So pale. A soft glow coalesced above the flattened palm, flickered once, then hovered where it formed.

    Satisfied, he unhooked the leather bindings on the book and pulled it open to a marked page. I know how to remove you from this world. You know I do as well. Pulling the small cork stopper from the ink well he dipped his quill and began writing. Only the soft scratching disturbed the night for quite some time.

    Sprinkling a handful of sand on the final page he slowly stretched stiff muscles. Time no longer agrees with me it seems. Coughing harshly he pulled the leather cover shut and latched the bindings. For a time he simply sat there running a hand across the cover.

    Such a powerful secret, yet now is not the time for its discovery. You shall hide until that time.

    Turning eyes towards the moonlit skies he held the book in outstretched hands. The chills that had filled his body ceased to be as a power began to fill his being. Ancient magic, long since forgotten in the world of man.

    With a clear voice that rang through the darkness he spoke. “To save the tears of the future I draw on prophecy and fate. Bind my words to that which I hold, until all has been fulfilled. Let nothing touch upon its knowledge before all has come to pass!”

    Light filled the small glade until no shadows remained. Power filled the air and the prophecy was written..

    A blinding glow enveloped the weathered tome for a few brief seconds before vanishing, taking all traces of the book with it. With a sharp cry the one many called Seer Daemeon crumpled to the ground unmoving except for the slow rise and fall of his chest. Darkness once again covered the glade.

 

From the Town Cryer - The Journal of Ultima Online, Thursday, May 6th 1999