zaterdag 4 mei 2013

King Mobus of the Ozians


"It is done. The preparations are finished." The mage stood in the middle of the torch-lit chamber. The sweat on his brow reflected the flickering of the carefully placed lighting. The floor was covered with symbols, squares, triangles, circles and signs that Mobus had never seem before. He had learnt a lot from the mage, a man old enough to be his father who had been able to help him with his cause.
Mobus waved to the servants. "Bring me the scepter. I am ready."

The mage began to sing. Even though Mobus had closed his eyes, he could see the bright light emitted by the old man pierce through his eyelids. There was no turning back now. Face the spirit or be remembered as the king who broke his promise. The mage song began slowly, uttering moans that seemed to linger in his throat like a bell's ringing. Mobus felt a presence creeping up on him. He was never gifted in the ways of magic, but this was most definately something otherworldly, he knew it. Mobus stood upright at the center of the drawing on the floor, his arms stretched wide, as if greeting his people.

The song sped up and became more compex. The king thought he recognised words of the Pureling's tongue, but he had never studied the language. There had always been more pressing matters. As the servants began beating the drums Mobus opened his eyes.

A tiny speck of light appeared before him, right where the mage said there would be. It slowly grew in size, shimmering like the Solar star on a clear night. The torches doused as their glow was sucked up by the spirit. The light took shape.
Mobus blinked twice, but kept his fear to himself. The mage had stopped singing. The drums had stopped beating. The apperition stood as high as he did, if only it would have had legs to stand on. It hovered. The being consisted of strange, rounded geometrical shapes and glowed with a soft hum. It's face had no recognisable human features, just three vertical stripes. Not connected to the head was a almond-shaped chest and under that something that could have been a hipbone. The spirit had no limbs, nothing so gesture or obey any of the laws of the world.

It was waiting. This was it. "I am King Mobus! Lord of the Eastern Provinces, Ruler of the Ozians, Servant of Crea. I have summoned you to my temple to do my bidding. You are a being of energy and power, and I wish to harness both. Give me the strength to aid my people in their moment of need. Extend and expand my rule! Join me!"
The spirit gave no answer. Mobus didn't expect one from something without a mouth. There was total silence. No humming.

Mobus didn't hesitate and stepped forward. The spirit joined him.