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Amulets Rage - Chapter 1 memories
This is not of the game but it has been inspired by it.  There are more chapters but for now there is this one.

Author: jens_stalder


The Triennial year approached, the mountain did not flare. It was upon an Island only known for a few years now, but that was all they knew and a spectacular event was somehow forgotten. The legend’s of a trained captain, the trials of waves and monsters, starvation and loneliness, the unknown tests of trust and belief, and human nature of hope. Were they all forgotten?

“Why does thou forget me, how does thou forget yours past,”

a voice was herd as of a whisper as a young boy stared upon the waves, only to walk within more confusing mater. There as he was only to wander in curiosity of the past explanation of his dear father’s last words.

“Although it is not present in our people’s eyes, they know deep within that there was a reason we were left here.”

The voice still remained within his mind.

“I strongly believe so, and there is non to overcome my mind,”

He was at about of the age of ten reaching onward towards a lovely quiet life. His name was Aronos Glathor, barring the name of his father as it has bin past by his. Within his major curiosity he was never understood or even herd to. He continued hearing those words from nowhere and started to grow onto them. Although he thought that there must be another that would here those words, he has never found one. After waiting but for a few moments he returned home walking towards the quiet village. Although it was upon the border of dusk peoples still roamed upon the streets. The village never received a name, for it was the only village known by its inhabitants. Its size did not mater for it was to scattered about. The peoples seamed grumpy as always. For would not you, reader, if you would not know your past? Their daily affections of odd rumors bitterer them, and the story’s of legends concerning of their past was long thought short because of false accusations. Within a few minutes he reached towards the door of a house in which he roamed. But before opening he remembered the symbol upon the door. It was a sword struck into the ground but only standing unbelievably short to the tip. Twirling around the sword’s form, a snake was seen twirling upwards until the head reached its hilt. The sword was within the snake’s tale and it seamed trapped by its tip, unable to move. One lonesome word was scribbled at the near bottom expressing the letters TIRSIM. A word that he did not understand, but he was to be one of the few who did later. Without talking to his mother, sitting at the dinning room table, he quietly moved up the stairs into his room. But before entering his words sprang into the ears of his mother saying,

“Night ma!”
 
Unaware that those where her last words ever herd by her son. For thus she never heard one again.

“Night Aronos, let your fathers death pas its mortal wound, and let it not affect you.”

She answered and continued by whispering to herself,

“As I will join him.”

Within this day, hoping it would not, it tainted his life completely. Confused he entered his room to rest. His father slept in a dream never to wake up a year ago, thought as of age.

“Impossible,”

He thought and entered a dream dreadful and indescribable by any means.
Within the dream there was much fire. Laughter was heard in great amount. Making up the images, which were very unclear within the beginning, He saw a village flaring in fire and creatures fighting dreadfully against units. It was then when he knew the laughter was indeed screams of innocent beings. The creatures were killing innocent families and the legions had no chance, for the enemy was in great amount. Stones of fire he saw then from heaven and rage woke within them. There he saw a white creature among them bright as the sun itself. They seamed unaware of him and he followed a group of the legions, which were as of fleeing. He could not be aware of the form this creature possessed for it was too bright to determine. They moved within a forest outside of the village. Then with great disturbance he saw the group closer and with full of fright he saw one with a mark upon his left arm and his eyes where burning as of a fire unquenchable. And as he saw the sign closer it said among it in a foreign language
”This is the keeper of rage, his meek spirit sets a shield among all.”

He awoke. Within the next morning he found his mother dead. Tragedy came upon him and he thought that his life now would not prosper. Never had he the hart to tell, but instead kneeled there upon her side where she was laying and quenched his last tears out towards the meek mother which gave him hope. The day passed and dear young Aronos still roamed next to her bed.

“Now I have gotten all the bad one could handle,”
He said,
“surely there is nothing worse to come.”

Sadly he decided to run and never return. He would never tell the strategy he experienced, never. He ran towards the dirt road, and ran along it not knowing where it would bring him. Nothing had he taken, but only his close upon his back, as he ran to the end of the trampled road past the woodchoppers’ place and all life he ever knew. The workers of the woods where brave men and would never pass the distance Aronos covered and yelled,

“Hey… boy, you’ll kill yourself get’n out there on yourself. I wouldn’t even go out there with an army.”

For through history every person’s attempt to do so would never return. And fear has gotten the people saying that the place far beyond was cursed. Anyhow, he ran and ignored the wise woodchoppers and continued. It was but a little ways in as he became weary of the darkness that was surrounding him even in the times of dawn. He halted and leaned unto a tree and began to cry once more.

“Creatures come and destroy me!”
He yelled,
“I have no value and am lost. Come and eat me so that I would not have to continue my life in such a misery, and mystery."

There as he stared for a few minutes he realized that he has grown to this place. That he did not consider it as a lonely dark place, but a beautiful, lovely place. All the sayings of the peoples where wrong.

“This place is not cursed.”

He said to himself but rather found it as a meek blessed location. But mystically a light grew about and it became lighter and brighter. Then he saw a statue within a distance where he saw the light, as it’s brightest.

“Who is there?”
he said hopelessly.
“Certainly it is not a creature of which I read, for you seam warm and bright.”

As of fright the statue stopped and was as of looking towards his direction. Then his brightness dimmed and he continued to move closer towards dear Aronos.

“Bright?”
the creature asked,
“I am not that bright, in matter a fact I’m clothed in dark gray rags.”

As he said that Aronos took a second look and indeed it was an old man, as of a beggar, with ragged old rags upon his back.
“Tell me,”
The old man then said,
“what is a boy as young as you doing in a place like this?”

Aronos paused and did not move a muscle but the once of his eyes following the beggar’s staff, which looked intimidating.

“Well?”
The man asked anew.

“Please old man don’t hurt me.”
Aronos responded,
 “I have no meaning to be anyone’s burden.”

“Oh no, you wouldn’t be my dear. You are much to small to do that. But I am still concerned of why you called my warm and bright."
 
“Never mind that, I am loosing my thoughts.”

“Why would that be?”
The old man responded with his old mellow tone.

“Must you know?”

“No I mustn’t but the gear of knowing will consume me. Anyhow, What is your name young fellow?”

“Aronos Glathor.”
He responded
 
“Aronos? Well you seam to have a greed of adventure.”
 


..............................(To be continued)..............................

Are you interested?
If you are, take a visit to www.the-amulets-rage.vze.com and read about Aronos' father witch happens to have the same name.

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