Crystal Prophecies: characters

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
This piece provides a bit of background information on the main characters in the form of first person narratives. This is kind of a work in progress and I may add more later.

Submitted: October 10, 2011

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Submitted: October 10, 2011

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Zanaif

“I wield shadows to serve the light. Some would say my power is a curse, that shadow magic is in itself evil. Indeed, most of the rites that must be gone through to wield such power are morally unjust. I was but a boy when I was taught these things, I was raised by the necromancers philosophy. Power is strength, to attain strength one must do things unpleasant. Things have changed since then. I see now the folly of my masters, no, my captor words. To seek strength only for yourself, that is injustice, that is selfish. To use your strength for the good of others, to further the means to change the world for the better, that is true power I say. My strength is shadow magic. That I can wield it, does that make me evil? I say it depends on what I use it for. Do my abilities alone make me beyond redemption? No, for if this way of thinking were true, every man, woman, and child in the world would be evil with the exception of only the youngest, newly born into this strange world. For isn’t everyone capable of things like murder, thievery, or other befowlments? Most would never consider committing such acts, but they still have the power to. This is no different for me. Though I have the ability to use my powers for evil, and most people who wield such power are evil, I do not I use them to strengthen the world and further the purposes of good.”

 

Merinla

“I strive for perfection. To say that I will ever achieve it is foolish! I grow more in tune with myself every day; perfecting my mind, body, and soul. I seek to have full control over myself. When I think, I want what I think to happen, whether it is the simplest curl of my finger or a double back flip over the dinner table without disturbing the food. Every day I spend time continuing down my road. I exercise my body; I run, jump, climb, and swim until my muscles ache and I relish the pain for it means I am all the more closer to my goal.I study texts of those who came before, learn the history of my people and that of others far away. The culture of the many races on Ishta, from Poniaticus in the west, to the snowy wasteland in the north, the desert sand ridden home of the savage Sciitos to which there has never been given a proper name, and even the eastern demon infested lands named after the great volcano Vemiire. I learn from the trees, the birds, and even the crawly ants the ways of life, wisdom beyond what can be recorded in a book. With each experience, my soul grows. Some believe the soul is merely an expansion of the mind, encompassing that which has yet to be explained. I believe it is more, it is my very goodness that is my soul. May it never cease to compel me as I journey down the long path life throws at me, and may the path never stop putting obstacles in my way.”

 

Jack

“On the desert frontier, everything, every action, reaction, every move one makes can be traced back to a single thing; survival. The sun is harsh, unforgiving. As it has the power to make life possible, so it has the power to take it away. Before I joined the king’s army, my family was with a group of nomads, traveling whenever our current home ran out of water. As soon as I came of age I became a part of the guard force and was taught how to use a spear to hunt and to defend myself. The heat alone would make any other race weak; to us it is merely uncomfortable. My people are naturally talented warriors, our instincts honed by the trials of survival. One day a raid by the Sciito’s changed my life forever. They killed my family, destroyed half my tribe. That is why I joined the army. I would not have allowed myself the privilege of death until every last one of those sand forsaken bugs were dead. Or so I thought. As all people do, I matured. I realized revenge would not bring my family back. I am at peace with the thought that they are with the great light now. Despite this I still never would have believed that a Sciito would later become an ally of mine. I’d even venture as far as to call him my friend. Change comes forcefully and swift, the rate at which one adapts, however, is up to oneself.”

 

Pelune`

“The deer nestle in a bed of grass, even as the wolf stalks the unfortunate doe. Her children sleep at her hooves, she is ever aware. Yet the wolf is stealthy, but a spy for the attack to come. His eyes glimmer in anticipation as he admires the well muscled haunches. The trees hide his brethren. The birds sit still in their nests, they sense the tension. On high, a squirrel chews absent mindedly on an acorn, watching the scene unfold. The doe is powerless to stop fate; The fauns, even more so. The wolves merely do what they need to survive. What would the trees, the birds, or that content little squirrel do? What could they do? Nothing, just as it was meant to be. What could I do? Anything; I could scare away the wolves and protect the deer. I could kill the deer and her young to make the wolves’ job easier. I could watch as the wolves make their move on the doe and save the babies and raise them myself. If I wanted to, I could even feed the squirrel to the wolves as a pre-meal snack. I could do anything. What would I do/ I would watch. Watch as nature plays it’s course. My power as a sentient is a responsibility to make sure everything goes according to the Gaia’s plans. I am but a guide, an influence to the much greater power that is nature. Anything I do, be it big or small, could change the course of life. What does that make me? A goddess upon an earthly throne, as are all mortals.

 

Velerick-Nu^k-Tok

“That I can even write amazes people. Sciito’s have no written language of their own. We are too busy with our ever growing conquests and civil wars. We are intelligent beings, have no doubt, however, from our intelligence was born stupidity. Leadership is dictated by whomever the fiercest warrior is. Every male is a warrior, the weak do not survive. Consequently, there is no progress. I am a runt among my kind. Cast out, not even granted the honor of death in battle. I’ve learned to fight since then, as every Sciito must, but I’m no match for most of my ‘brothers’ in combat. However, I found another way. I was let in out of pity by a compassionate family of humans. I began slowly to learn their language, which I had no way of speaking, with my mouth being a set of pincers, but I learned to write. The humans eventually gifted me with a large peacock feather quill that was more suitable to my larger hands. I began studying and doing research, things I could not do as a tribe member. I was fascinated with all of the technological advancements the humans had made, we were nothing compared to them if it weren’t for our physical superiority. I began writing, just things that came to mind, observations I had made. Everyone who read my work enjoyed it immensely, giving me pleasure beyond what victory in battle could ever give. Eventually, I was heard of in the wider world and the king of the freelands requested me as a scribe. I was a runt among Sciitos, but a noble among humans. I like to think of my life as a poem, and as the verses go on, the poem just gets better.

 

 

 


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