Chapter 1:

Part 1. Chapter 1: INTRODUCTIONS

Makefits - Keys to the End of the World


                                                            Far from the Beginning
                                                                     [Soul Realm]



In the open cavern that could be called his throne room, Aomamtis looked away from the undulating tower of sinew and exposed muscle that was Anot.  Despite the spirit basically living in his grand room and being one of his most trusted advisers, Aomamtis had trouble looking at the ceiling high column and its tentacle-like muscles as they spiraled around and around, spasmodically coiling up and down simultaneously.

Aomamtis slouched back in the tiny chair that was his throne of the moment.  It was etched into the stone leg of another throne one hundred times its size.  That was his throne for when he wanted, or needed, to be large and intimidating. He had no need or energy for that right now.   He sat perplexed by the situation and prepared himself for the smart remark he knew would come.

“And you are sure that that little one is one of the keys to our return?”

Anot did not answer immediately.  The hissing sound that emanated from the oozing muscles of the tower was the sound of one trying to compose an appropriate answer that wouldn't anger his king too badly.   Up and down the length of both tentacle-like muscles, eyes, devoid of sockets to hold them, appeared and disappeared into and out of the muscles like trash bobbing on the waves.

“Yes. And yes, I am already watching him as I am the others.  You ask me these questions over and over, but cannot recall one time that I have ever failed you, My King.   I should be angrier, but I do understand your question.  I must admit to doubting my own abilities when I first saw it. He is not.. what one would expect when looking for a key to the end of the world.”

Aomamtis rubbed his wide chin. Anot spoke the truth.  He had never let him down. He was not all-knowing, but his prophecies had never been wrong. He had no reason to doubt his long time aide.  But he certainly didn't look like a key. The little thing was nothing more than a furball with legs and ears.  Well, whatever.  If it got him to his desired result, the methods and tools did not matter.

Unlike most, Anot was incapable of joining with an anchor and sending his essence across the veil and into the realm of Beings. His gift however was much greater.   He could see anywhere and everywhere within that realm. A lifeline to Aomamtis.  Aomamtis could cross over if he were to join with an anchor, but that was a level to which he would never stoop. He was a Soul King, a representative of not just the loyal line of ogres, but of all Souls.  The idea of depending on a Being disgusted him. If it had disgusted others as much, Souls would not be in such an untenable and miserable position.  They wouldn't be stuck in a world lacking in color and devoid of substance, a desolately colored and misshapen wasteland.

But that was okay.   What was done is done.  But now, finally, Aomamtis could see a path back to when the worlds were one, and, this time, there would be no concessions made.


                                                          Sort of the Beginning
                                                                [Realm of Beings]


The best place to begin this story is on a rundown farm, but in a very large and very well-kept stable. Inside, a young half-elf mumbles to himself as his shovel scrapes the wooden floor.


[Vlend] “This does not sound like the best place to start this story.”


If you were to ask the young man what it is he is mumbling about, he would tell you his story. But before that, he would ask you a question: have you ever cleaned dragon patties from a stall before? He would then explain that no, you haven't, because dragons, or at least the ones with which he has experience, do not leave patties. They leave guano. Lakes of it. It's liquid long enough to spread across the floor before drying into the stickiest and foulest smelling substance imaginable.

Then, after that enlightening lesson, he would grumble about his Soul partner who is supposed to be helping him, but somehow always manages to find an excuse to hang out with the girls. When they aren't available, he is too sick or too tired. He would then grumble that while he and his Soul partner are supposed to be becoming a great warrior team, he is working on losing his sense of smell, and his partner is working on getting fat. He would then throw his shovel at the wall, and then growl when he realizes that the handle is now covered in dragon-


[Ziqtiki] “He really has you nailed.”

[Vlend] “I.. I can't argue that."


While this location may sit in an air of stomach turning putrid-ness, it is also quite lighthearted. It will not always be so, however. It is true, that despite their.. humble beginnings, these two will eventually become quite strong. They will also play a major role in starting the Second Great Soul War, and, at one point, be wholly responsible for wiping out their entire team of friends and allies.


[Vlend] “Why are you spotlighting the last two?!”


These two may be very important to all that happens here, but they are far from the only players. A cavalcade of both Beings and Souls will play their part. Some will be heroes. Others villains. Some will find themselves as both, though that shouldn't be a surprise. After all, who is which, usually just depends on whose side you are on. And if it turns out that both sides are justified, how can anyone be only wrong or only right?


As a quick note, I like to occasionally drip drops of information into the story about locations, items, Beings, Souls, and anything else. If I think of something interesting, I might decide to tell you about it. So anytime I say something that appears in {} it will help you understand the world more thoroughly. If you want to just hear the story, then you can skip it without fear of missing anything important. Probably.


[Vlend] And you decided not to let me tell the story, because you think I get sidetracked.

A.A. James
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