The Falling Star
Pages from forbidden books nestled the shelves, hidden from the world…
Scrolls stored inside the darkened chests that crowded the floors, fell silent throughout the decrepit corridors… The coldest place on Earth, filled the very halls that they resided. Yet the cruelest deed to man in fact, wasn’t where the books laid…It was what moreover, laid buried inside the book’s casings…!
“Article 794. Pages 1 through 900…Condemned by order of the Thirteenth Accusation Counsel of Nights; Verses of the Darkius Counsel Seven.” Fellow Darkius Monk, E’hab Duskarr…Resided within the same halls as well. “Exiled are the pages known to man, as verses from the terrible one’s of Blackened Chivalry. The Etched Ones.” E’hab Duskarr’s voice was mundane; tiring from the day-to-day tedium of the Forever Halls of Quadstag Manor. The Halls of the Darkius Order, in where every wicked book is catalogued and stored away from the public. In the land of Gah’Loria, the Isles homeland to the Bretons had many names: The SmitherLand Isles, Land of Purses…It was also claimed to hold “All the world’s thieves”. The land was divided by either English, German, or Dutch speaking individuals. Within this land, The Darkius held strong to a mysterious presence throughout the providence. It was only resent, that fellow Darkius monk E’hab Duskarr was demoted from a chairman of the Darkius Counsel, to an archiver, and assigned the task that placed him within Quadstag’s terrible halls. As E’hab looked around, he gazed upon the withered bookshelves, with disgust. From underneath the hooded black robes, and hooded black veil that he wore, he rose his great and terrible brows, he frowned his great and mighty face, he scratched his wickedly blackened goatee; his cruel scar stretched against his distasteful insidious face. As his piercing brown eyes darted left and right against the scrolls and books, he continued to speak to the other Darkius scribes that assisted him, “Mark down the book known as A 30 West, and cursed as “The Book that Speaks from Nowhere” as too dangerous for the public, and store it under the Murderer’s section.”
The scribes wrote down E’hab’s instructions word for word, “Have you classified A 30 West as a book talking to murderer’s?” one of the scribes questioned. E’hab answered not, only angrily rolled his eyes, as if annoyed by the scribe’s response, “Place. A 30. Under the Murderer’s section.” He cursed.
And so the scribes did as he asked. They collected the book A 30, and went their way through the manor to hide the book away, and before long, E’hab found himself starting his mundane process over again, with another book. “Article 647. Pages 1 through 300. Condemned by order of the Thirteenth Accusation Counsel of Nights; Verses of the Darkius Counsel six, this time…Not seven. Six.”
The scribes wrote down E’hab’s words, word for word.
…But there was a pause. E’hab was suddenly approached by another fellow Darkius monk.
“…Sir? Go on?” the scribes went. But E’hab didn’t answer them. He didn’t reply…He knew, even with his back turned, the Darkius monk that now stood behind him was different than the others. He knew this knight personally, and he knew this knight by name.
“Sir we must know how to classify this dark book…Please proceed.”
E’hab suddenly grew a venomous grin, that had spilt from ear-to-ear where he stood, “Cauldron is here…” E’hab spoke.
“Sir? Come on, it’s been a long day!” went the scribe, “We still have over 215 Etched One books to catalogue, can we just-
“You know Cauldron…” E’hab slithered his tongue, “Do you know why we must do things how we’re doing them here?”
Cauldron looked up to the scribe, and nodded his head, and the scribe threw his hands up out of frustration, reaching inside his pockets he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and walked off. Cauldron wore a hooded veil, like E’hab and all most other Darkius knights; he was a unique character, with one of his eyes being yellow, and the other, a pale green…But the one thing that the pair seemed to have in common, was that they both possessed a scar on their face, just as mysterious as the people around them.
“Dear Cauldron…” E’hab continued, “The Etched Ones…Are evil spirits linked to the Chaos magic. You see, reading books scribed by their magics, even just speaking about it, thinking about it…Desiring to just glance across the title of the book, is enough to drive one into insanity!” E’hab turned to face Cauldron, with an almost sinister and untrustworthy smirk across his face, as he continued to speak, “It’s almost like, their books have ears… Their alphabet, the Durvik language…You have to read their writings, perceive the words backwards. Do it the right way, but one slip up is enough to change a good man…Into a monster! A fiend! To take him entirely under the control of these Etched Ones…” Cauldron held a concerned look on his face, as he watched E’hab pace back and forth, almost as if he weren’t sound of mind, “And that is why we can’t even refer to them by their given title, we must make up letters, numbers, and ridiculous phrases. Simply for the fact that no one can handle it’s power…” E’hab nodded his head, his face twisted in horrible ways, then his very eyes widened, his inhuman grin dropped…And a look of fear gripped hold of him, “…It’s the ring, you know? The Stone of Khaos..!” Cauldron frowned, “I know it must be disheartening being demoted within the Order…” Cauldron began, “We are still revaluating what went wrong, they still believe that you were involved in Etched One Magic, I’m doing what I can to prove your innocence.”
E’hab frowned angrily, “The Elders and their foolish counsel of Mages and High Wizards. They’re here, they’re in The Outer Score over in Black Eclipse Manor-
“But you and I know how corrupt the one’s in Gah’Loria can be, E’hab.”
“They speak Dutch, with their forked tongues! –
“But we, my friend…Are The Darkius Order. We bow to no man, and we do what we must.”
E’hab nodded his head, “Yes. We do what we must. Even if we must kill to do it.” Suddenly, E’hab pierced his eyes into Cauldron, “Is this for truth? Dear friend?”
Cauldron frowned with a puzzled look on his face, as E’hab’s wicked grin slowly began to etch it’s way back onto his very face…He turned back around, to face a nearby scribe, “Mark down the book known as C 68, and cursed as “The Severed Headed Voice” as too dangerous for the public, and store it within the Madness section.”
“Yes sir.” Went the scribe. The book C 68 was then gathered, and taken on it’s way. Cauldron rose his brow further, and just before he started to walk off, E’hab spoke out one last time, “The words have ears you know, Cauldron…” E’hab heard Cauldron’s footsteps get farther and farther, until they were gone. And he stood alone. Looking up at the book cases, in disgust.
E’hab continued the endless cycle over and over, until he stopped. He turned to look at the scribe that had left from early with a pack of cigarettes, E’hab smiled “Ready to continue?” he went.
The scribe woefully sighed, “Yes sir. What’s our next dark book?”
“The one that I have been looking for…Since I was demoted to this detestable place.” E’hab almost crackled with laughter,
“You mean the book cursed as The Killing of the Stars? Z 74? I think Archiver Solice already catalogued that book.”
E’hab frowned angrily, “Well boy, I, am the archiver now! Thanks to the fools who placed me here! That means this is little “book palace” belongs to me now!”
The scribe only sighed again, saying nothing,
“The Killing of the Stars, or whatever you people call it. Start a search for it.”
“We still have books we need to catalogue, sir!” went another scribe.
“Don’t worry my friends” E’hab smiled, “How about this? Search for this book for me, afterwards I will catalogue all of these books myself.”
“But sir we aren’t allowed to have a single cataloger present…”
“Then friends, find this book. And Everybody can rest, until tomorrow. Does this sound fair?”
“Hell yeah!” yelled one of the scribes, as their applauding became more frantic. E’hab simply stood in a terrible foreboding silence…
The hour grew late, as E’hab stood inside his quarters deep within the forbidden halls. He could hear the echoing of the radio being played, as the sound of a Russian singer singing a haunting melody bounced soundwaves against the walls. He waved his fingers to the sound, as the song flooded the corridors…And suddenly, he understood the song. He knew it’s language, even though he was never taught it, he spoke in Russian, just like the song! He knew the singer, he knew his family, he knew his fate. Just as E’hab closed his eyes, a scribe came up to him. Smiling, he held a book outstretched to him, “Z 74, sir.”
“Ahhh, yes…” E’hab let out a long sigh of relief. A long, almost eternal sigh of relief.
“It needs to be returned in 17 minutes, sir. These are the rules of the archiver. Sorry you can’t use it…”
E’hab hummed the tune of the song, without touching the book in the scribe’s hand. He smirked to himself, “You hear this song, boy?” E’hab went. The scribe only turned toward the radio, as the song entered into his ears, “You can hear the sadness, within his voice…You can hear the anger. The regret. The pain. Can you not? Listen…”
The scribe lowered the book in his hands, his eyes locked on the radio, “Shhh…Hear those words? Tell me then. If the singer, wanted to release those feelings…” The scribe’s eyes widened as he looked at E’hab, “Why would they want those feelings returned?” Suddenly, the scribe found himself lifting the book in his hands, all the way up to his face, as E’hab smirked an insidious grin, the scribe watched, his eyes frozen with horrible fear, stuck in place, as some sinister force took hold of him… The scribe took the book, and slammed it with all of his might into his own face! Again and again, as blood began to gush from out, E’hab’s evil smile held, as he continued to use his terrible magic, the scribe continued to pommel his own face, the sound of his face bones cracking carried…Until he fell lifeless to the ground! As the scribe’s blood seeped in a puddle around him. E’hab walked over to the scribe, he bent down to reach for the book, “The Killing of the Stars…” he echoed, as he lifted the book, and looked inside of it! He could feel his body tingle with terrible magic, as he felt the Khaos, take over him. He saw it’s power through the words, he heard the sounds through the letters, he saw stars fall across the pages, and heard the screams of the universe pound into the very periods of each sentence. He turned to page 14 of it’s forbidden scrawling’s, and began to read it’s chapter:
On the day faceless children from under the skies called out to them,
A sickening thud vibrated the hollow ground. It scraped the Earth, and it bled out a sound, no
Mortal man could silence. It made the skin crawl along the graves,
It made the eardrums leap to and frou. And from underneath of the whole of the kingdom, the ring
Circled around the place, every star had fallen to gather…
E’hab smiled, he closed the book, placing it back into the dead scribe’s cold hands. “It’s in Druid. The MiddleLands, where the Cascadians are…Now I know. And now I know the stars…” E’hab stood to his feet, and looked up to the sound of footsteps from the other Darkius scribes, turning the doorknob handle to his room…They entered the room to discover the horrible sight of the dead scribe on the ground with Z 74 still nestled within his hands, but E’hab Duskarr. Was nowhere to be found.
Copyright July 22, 2017