They blame me for the conditions of their souls. It does not matter that their minds could not gaze past the ignorance that scaled over their eyes, forcing them to see through a dimly lit stained glass. I was merely the messenger of their demise. I delivered the twelve scrolls, as instructed. I was not the creator nor the object of the message within the scrolls.
The Shamari and the dragons, the great caretakers and shepherds of the lower races, fell first. They coveted power and it consumed them. Thus they blamed the scrolls and the prophecies held with, for the final nature of their demise. They now fester and rot in the lands of their births. The great cities lie in ruins, the lush valleys and forests, burnt and petrified, cursed for their defiance. The appointed hour to be determined, when they will be released once again.
It has all come to pass as it should. I find it amusing as the great scribe Jiran struggles in vain to find meaning hidden in the text. Can he not see? Can he not comprehend that the message is simple? I fear the wise are sometimes duller the witless. The story is always the same. The creator and the destroy fighting over the various worlds of the universe. One intends to save and the other destroy. The scene always plays out the same, just the players change. The creation only sees the true message in the end, as the world burns and fades out of existence.
I have seen this a thousand times upon a thousand worlds. Shadora is not unique in this manner. They are unique though in the fact that they refuse to accept their fate. One conspires with the destroyer, believing he can trick him of his due prize. Others refuse the mantle of champion placed on them by the creator.
I find this curious.
Watch with me as the great scribe struggles to explain this…
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Ancient darkness will also be available as a graphic novel this fall 2014. Each chapter adapted to comic form, and each chapter becoming an issue itself.