Shadows of the Past(1)

The Land of Talm wasn't known for much, to those on the outside they see an idealistic dream of a locale, filled with vibrant flora--yet in reality Talm was a corpse. One besieged on all sides by dull gray waves, with an ever encroaching sea of rolling monochrome fields and hell blasted pot marks where spells and other such things had gouged into the land's very flesh. the infernal reaper-- war had come and it had gone. To the Talman they could see the signs, the reaper's sycthe was looming, and drawing closer day by day. the signs were less than subtle, less the Machiavellian machinations of olde and more of scribblings of a raving mind upon a cell wall. War was coming for Talm, a sentiment many in the outer regions of Talm's lands understood but never said out loud, a silent destructive thought that they'd whisk themselves and their home away with. not a world cleansing war like the many war of Magnamalia's past, nor the intercontinental wars seen in Talm's past--no, a war between Talm and her people. The Boy sat on his knees, pointing down at the small creak, all the while his father unenthusiastically named every fish the boy's finger aimed at... which much to the father's chagrin seemed only to make the boy more enthused. Father knew it, he could feel the ever long glances of the uniformed men. their jeering laughs, and pointed fingers, hear the whistling of gathering mana, and feel the burn of rage bubble up in his throat like bile. Father took a short breath, and held out his palm. "C'mon boy... lets go. Sun's getting low." father spoke gently, trying his hardest to shield his son from the uncomfortability of their reality, his son happily got to his feet and with a wide grin took his father's hand in stride. "Papa..." the boy said softly. "Yes boy?" "Can we see the fish tomorrow?" The question asked with such dire sincerity, earned a small hitched snicker from the horned father. "Yes, boy. I promise we can go see the Fish tomorrow." the boy lighted at this, nearly bouncing up as tall as his father. Father tossed a knowing glance at the uniformed men, from behind his shoulder the men appeared as nothing but a beige smear. He could hear them, the cruel sneers the men made, and the sound of their horns bumping against one another. within their mocking tones he could hear it: his very future, one full of mockery, and jeering tones, pointed fingers and wayward glances--he hated it, and he hated those men. Government men. The Land of Talm, was dying, it was slow at first like putrid decay in the sun, but the land's corpse was potbellied, full of all kinds of unseemly things fit to burst. Harmony Bucks knew this well; and he could see--feel the tension between state and pauper every time he caught even the tiniest glance of those soldiers. Back at the homestead, tucked safely away behind rows of drab wheat, and even more lifelessly colored crop. The door pushed back with a crossed word and a hushed sigh, the boy storming into the abode like a king roving over land to annex, a perfectly sword shaped stick in his hands, claimed from the outdoors on the way home--much at the disapproval of his father. there tucked in a far corner of the small shack was a woman in a rocking chair, tired glazed eyes and spiraling horns. when she saw the boy her face lifted with delight. a warm smile, pulled back the flabby skin of her face, revealing the small congregation of teeth that still resided in her mouth. The boy hastily sat in front of her, eyes aglow with wonder and delight. "Gramma." the boy said cutely, gazing at his grandmother, and she smiled and gently tousled his hair. "do you have anymore stories?" "Now... Ohma, your grandmother just woke up, ain't nice to pester your elders." Harmony adjourned, shooing Ohma away with nothing but a wag of the wrist. "hush sonny... the boy's curious. its alright." Grandmother Ashera assuaged her son with a gentle wave of her pallid fingers. "Mother... your health. you need to save your strength. you know as well as I do War could break out at any moment." "That's why its ever more important to give these tales to Ohma." "Fine... fine..." "besides.. its not like I have much longer anyway--!" "Now don't talk like that! we don't know that!" Harmony's voice rose in tone, and he sighed... "we just don't know, and ain't know way I'm letting you turn into a goddamn Star Scourge." "Harmony you worry far too much dear, I never made a binding wish so I won't turn." she stated matter-of-factly, pushing her voice into a veritable verbal shove, while her son just rolled his eyes and continued: making arguments like: "It doesn't matter, you feel despair and it happens" yet Ashera just shook her head and breathed a gentle sigh, turning her attention to the small grandchild before her. bony pallid fingers worked quickly, coiling around his horns and tugging on them, not so much as a teasing gesture but just a small tug to gather the boy's attention. the boy's head flew to attention and his wide wonderous eyes stared. "what would you like to hear first Ohma?" "Mom are you even listening to me?!" Harmony shouted."I say...we start at the very beginning. with how the world was made..." thus she began, detailing the tale as she was told--a song of sound and fury, a god and a devil, Annnui and Molo'tuar, his eyes filled with rapt attention hearing about how the twin beings knit the stars, and constructed the land. "They even made people... just like you and me." Grandmother cheered, playfully poking her grandson's nose. "but that's not the only thing they gave us Ohma... no. Annui, and Molo'tuar gave us dreams." The word was like a floodlight, and his face was alight, a big beaming grin and a gasped "wow". Grandmother continued: "Every dream is special to Annui and Molo'tuar, and those who die without ever accomplishing their dreams... are said to be so full of sorrow and pain." "like the kinds of dreams we have at bedtime?" "No, No... dearie. like uh... how do you say.... uh a Goal. yes, yes a goal." She tapped her chin, and then leaned close. it was apparent the topic was flying right over Ohma's head. gently she grabbed his hand, and wrapped his hand around her horns. "You see Ohma. we, Talman are special. no one else in the world... The whole of Magnamalia has Horns. we alone are special in the eyes of our Gods, and they listen to us Ohma... oh do they listen."