The Merentha Bible (New)

Book 0

New Testament : The Legend ”…A cold wind blows over the new day. A lone newbie awakens on the dew soaken grasses, her world in shambles. The earth had stopped shaking and the fire had ceased falling from the skies. Her town of Cabeiri burning in flames, and her not knowing if there were any survivors. This land she awoke to, is the new Merentha…” “…and when her tears had dried the destruction of her land became apparent. She wandered the world going from town to town until one day when she came upon a village that would make her wildest dreams and most fearful nightmares come true…” “…finding that her family had all died in the war of the gods she began to create a new life, full of wonders and riches. For if her world had not been destroyed she would not be the person she was this day, and she took her robes, the last relic of a world now long forgotten and buried them deep in the forest…” “…and as the years past the newbie grew to rule a world and to set forth the new way of being. And the robes in the forest stayed buried, a hidden monument to the world before. But like the robes in the woods, the child which was the young woman still lived even if hidden far away…” “…until the day, while wandering alone in the same forest the young woman did find, peeking from the ground the edge of the robe. And when she donned the robe, found herself, as a young child once again in a world all too familiar, in a land long forgotten that until now only existed in memories, dreams and nightmares of long ago…”

Book 1

New Testament : Book 1 : Kala To whoever finds this letter, to whoever finds my child, forgive me. I am but a lone mother with no means, no property, no family. It is not an easy decision which lays before me but it is one which unfortunately for this child is forced upon me. I was once a proud wife with a strong and respected husband. Together we had planned a great life and had the means to make it happen. We were married on a spring morning, with the first spring winds blessing our vows. Such a beautiful day it was, we were told by the elders that there was none finer in known memory. The winds brought with them the petals of the mountain rose which rained down upon us. It was said the gods were there that day to bless our marriage and that nothing bad could ever happen to us. But they were wrong. It was not long after that I discovered I was with child. Celebrations were held in honour of this moment. During the celebrations the invaders came and destroyed our town and everything we owned. Those with the ability armed and armoured themselves and took after the invaders into the mountains. My husband, her father was among those which went. He did not return. With our possessions destroyed and no means to gain more, for the village too was in shambles, I left for another town where I took to begging for scraps of food and change. If I were to keep this child even a worse fate would befall her. I could not force that fate on another, much less my own. In such a world I would chose not to raise my child. To whoever finds this child, her name is Kala, please allow her to keep this name. Please love her. Please care for her. Today you are all she has in this world. I ask you never tell her of me, never let her know of this, let her believe you are her rightful parents, for now you are. Treat her as your own and give her a good life, for these things and nothing more are the best a child like her could ever have. These are all that I ask. Farewell…

Book 2

New Testament : Book 2 - The Child Preface Chapter 1 - The Journey Epilog Preface It was a dark and stormy afternoon, to say the least. The cold rain shattered down upon us as we hitched the horses from our wagon onto the other two wagons. Our caravan had gotten stuck in the mud and could not be pulled free. We quickly tied the last horse and then scattered ourselves among the two remaining wagons, my two previous travel companions and the driver went to the first wagon. I quickly jumped into the second. No sooner had I entered the wagon and closed the door was the convoy once again underway, my new driver wasting no time in the storm. Across from me sat a young child, a girl of about 6. She was dressed in a gown of white and brown. Her hair was tied behind her back and on her head she wore a white veil which fell down to her shoulders and covered her face.
And with her a companion, to young to be her mother yet to much her elder to be a sister. Chapter 1 - The Journey “Well, so I see we meet again”, I said. Before our journey began we all had lunch together while the drivers prepared the horses. I had not had the time to talk to them then, however.
I took my rain soaked cloak off and shook it lightly, “It is cold as sin out there in this storm.” I said to my new travel companions and laid my cloak over my lap. “Yes it is”, it was the companion who spoke, “The weather has been quite evil for the past few days.” I watched as the child curled up to her almost in protection from the rain, or perhaps from the new stranger sitting across from her. The companion put her arm around her and she continued speaking, “Where are you off to this evening?” “Whitestorm,” I replied, “I am on my way home, and yourself.” “Praxis, we are heading home as well. Let fortune guide us that no more delays keep us from the journey.”
The storm had grown much worse in those few passing minutes and the first bolt of lightning struck to lit up the sky. The woman whispered something into the child’s ear who quickly took cover in the fold’s of her companion’s robes with her hands hard pressed against her ears. No sooner had she taken this position then a loud monstrous thunderclap echoed though the forest.
Each time a lightning strike was seen the companion would whisper into the child’s ear, exactly what was said I could not hear but each time the girl would take shelter in the robes of the woman and cover her ears just before the thunderclap echoed through the forest. I could tell that the storm scared her but refrained from commenting. We continued with small talk for some time, then it came to that faith filled moment when engrossed in a conversation about the farmer’s crops, a bolt of lightning struck near us, but so distracted was the woman she did not whisper to the child and a crash of thunder echoed throughout the woods and through our wagon. Caught off guard and scared by the latest strike from above the child clutched onto her companion with all her strength, shaking and shivering, but never saying a word. Whether her shivers were from the cold of the rain or the fright of the thunderclap I did not know. I spoke to her, “Do not be afraid of the storm. For if you hide from the rain you will never see the rainbow.” The child buried her face further into her companion’s robes and wrap her arms around her. The woman sighed and stroking her hair said, “I am afraid that this cowardly little child may never see the rainbow.” “I am sure that she one day will”, I then continued on, talking of my own twin girls and how they are much the way she is in a storm. We continued on talking about the usual things, our families, our friends, our towns. The wagon continued through the woods, across bridges and through the mud. It was quite some time later that I looked out the carriage window to see where we were. We were just outside of Whitestorm and as we approached the rains stopped and the first beams of sunlight shown threw the clouds. The companion spoke, “It looks as though the rains have ceased.” “Yes, and just in time”, I replied, “for we are near my home.” I took my cape from my lap and latched it around myself once more. Epilog The wagons stopped at Whitestorm’s central square. I took one last look at my travel companions, it is not everyday that one sits with greatness.
”Good bye,” I said to them. I then turned to the child, who was still holding on to her companion, “Goodbye. May the rest of your journey be as peaceful as it is now.”. But she ignored me as though I wasn’t there, as she did for the entire trip.
I smiled at the woman and she smiled back as the driver opened the door and I exited. Waiting to board was a man in a blue cape with a golden insignia upon the collar. I bid him a good journey as he did to me. He then took his seat in the wagon, just where I had been sitting a moment before. As the driver took his position atop the wagon and the convoy continued on I heard the man mention to my new friends how glad he was the storm had ceased for he did not enjoy the rains. It was only then that I heard the child’s voice. Addressing her new travel companion she said, “If you hide from the rain, you will never see the rainbow.”

Book 3

New Testament : Book 3 - The Longest Journey Preface Chapter 1 - The First Step Epilog Preface To an outside observer I suppose my actions that morning did look a bit odd. My exact age is lost to the annals of time as even I have forgotten it, but her, she had just turned 18. I watched as she clasped her robe around her neck and let out a sigh of deep sadness.
I knew what she was about to do. There was a look in her eyes over the past few days, and this morning she had made her decision, and it was going to break her heart, and mine. From my perch upon her window still I watched her pace back and forth, fighting a battle of conscience, one which she could not win yet one which she would not lose. She wore only an old pair of leather shoes and a green robe, for now that was all she owned. Everything else which she had was destroyed just days ago from the fires that fell from the sky and the rumblings that came from the ground. Finally after pacing for what seemed like eternity she stopped and faced the door of her dwelling. With every drop of bravery and courage left in this world she opened the door. Chapter 1 - The First Step The sun was shinning brightly and the birds’ song greeted her. She paused again likely contemplating the long way down the road to the town square where my chambers were. Only 50 footsteps stood between here and there and yet it was a journey the bravest of men have never dared take. She closed her door behind her knowing it was already to late to change her mind for she had opened that door and she knew she could not go back. With a tear she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, each one filling her body with a new life. Like a lizard or snake warming itself on a rock she stood in the sunlight as if gaining strength from the rays. It was only the approach of her neighbour which broke her free from this spell. “Good news Kala, my wife has had our child and he is healthy and undoubtable as wise as his father.”, said the neighbour grinning from ear to ear. “That is good news indeed. That at this time, in all this disaster, a new life can be born”, she replied. “I must be off but a good day to you.” And with that the neighbour ran around the corner of the house and vanished as quickly as he appeared, off undoubtably to spread the joy he felt with all whom he knew. She stood a moment before taking a few quick steps towards the town square and my chamber, but no sooner had she started then a young child appeared before her with a flowering weed in her hands. “Kala, happy birthday”, the child said, “I have a present for you.” And with those words the child placed the small weed flower she had picked from the ground into Kala’s hand. “Why thank you”, Kala replied, and she brought the flower to her nose. “Such a wonderful fragrance…” It had infact been her birthday a few days before, but in the chaos of the disaster for the first time in her life no one had the time to celebrate. Kala and the child exchanged a few more words but the child would not leave Kala’s side. Kneeling before her Kala asked, “What is wrong?” “I am afraid that the storms of fire will return.” came the meek reply. “Do not be afraid of the storms, they are not evil and can only hurt you if you allow them to. Now go to the grounds and play with your friends.” And with that the child smiled and ran off to play. Kala again took a few more steps towards my office but she didn’t get far before she stopped again. I had been following her, quietly and I was afraid she had heard me. For she paused as if she were listening intently for something, she turned around as though she heard me move, or perhaps even breath. But giving up in a short matter she again took to my office ignoring whatever sound had grabbed her attention. But again she did not get far before she was stopped, this time by one of the elders of the town with two strangers. “Good day Kala”, said the elder, “May I introduce you to a few strangers who were in the area and have agreed to help us rebuild Praxis.” “Good day elder, I hope they will be able to help. Once the town is rebuilt life can return to normal and we may worship the gods in peace. This was once a great home. I am afraid though that our world will need much more repair then even these two can supply.” replied Kala.
They spoke a bit longer then the council left and Kala once again continued her journey to the center of town. As she walked I saw through my eyes exactly what I tell you now. I saw her life, as we remember it, grow with each step, each person she met and would met in the future, in her future.
All the years I had known her were now passing by my eyes. Her birth, her schooling… and now she was drawn to meet me to give me a message she wished she didn’t have to and she did not know why, nor I believe did the thought even enter her head. Such a poor child. Her family was away from the town when the storms hit and had not been heard from for days, they should have arrived back to Praxis quite some time ago. Combine to that all she owned or knew of this world had been destroyed. My heart went out to her, but now there was nothing I could do. Almost entering the town square she was stopped again, this time by a long time friend of hers. A young lad of the same age came up to her. “Hello, Kala.” he said. “Where are you off to this early morning.” “Hello good friend”, she replied. “I do not know for certain where this day will take me, I will leave that to the day to decide. And where are you off to this morning.” “I have just been accepted as an apprentice scholar.” He took his robe where the emblem of the scholar class was stitched and pressed it into her hand. “There is news that strangers have arrived this very day in our own town to help us rebuild. I am off to find those who have come to help, and to help them in the rebuild of our town.” “Well then I will not keep you on your way”, answered Kala. And her friend took off around the corner out of eyesight, out of ear shot.
”Good bye dear friend” she whispered, then took the final few steps and enter the town square. Epilog The stench of death filled the square. This is where survivors gathered after the disaster. Many people carried with them injured or dead friends and family, seeking those who would help heal them. Even now in this period of calm the odd survivor would still enter the town and the square looking for aid. Most found none and had died, and the town square became a tribute to death himself. Finally she was in front of my office. Placing her hand against the door she waited once more as if for some divine intervention to occur and pull her out of this situation. But none came and so she pushed the door open and walked inside.
That was when I could wait no longer and followed her in, appearing before her for the first time this day, and prepared for the news she was about to tell, the news she had not and would not tell anyone else.

Book 4

New Testament : Book 4 - The Fork in the Road Preface Chapter 1 - The Girl Chapter 2 - The Road Chapter 3 - The Choice Epilog Preface So there I was, sitting in my tree and smiling as she chose her path through life. It isn’t every day that a person gets to decide their destiny, but she got to decide and today was her day. Without any help from her kind, without any help from the gods she chose her path, and I was there to observe that moment. Perhaps though, since you do not know what I do, I should start from the beginning. Chapter 1 - The Girl I was sitting in my tree, as I often do. Hidden by the branches, hidden from view, I was not seen but I saw her as she came running down the path. Her eyes were in tears and was she having difficulty breathing for she was running and crying. So carelessly was she running that she almost ran into my tree, but sensing it at the last moment she stopped fell to her knees sobbing terribly. A fork in the road lay before her. I watched as she cried for a minute, then two then three. Finally she took a few deep breaths and addressed the large tree before her as though it were a person. “Why is it that after all this time, after all my travels, after all my heartbreaks I discover now the death of my parents?”, she asked as if the tree could hear her. How little she did know. “What am I to do now that I have no family. Which path in this fork in the road do I follow?” She sighed and turned back at where she came. The village of Whitestorm could barely be made out in the distance. The girl had long red hair which flowed nearly to the ground. Usually it was braided in the back but today it fell freely. I had of course seen her many times before and knew her well. In fact, if I were to tell you that I was today in this tree because of her, and that my purpose here was nothing more then to be an observer of this moment I am sure you would call me a liar, but it is the truth. She stood there for a minute then muttering under her breath whispered, “What hope does this world have.” Such beautiful words I found myself repeating them aloud, “What hope does this world have.” Of course it was a foolish thing to do for she heard me and wheeled around quickly facing up into the branches. But she could not see me, for we were not destined to formally meet until much later in her journey. She continued gazing blindly into the branches but never saw a thing, her eyes still full of tears. “What hope indeed”, she went on, “What hope does this world have where one day out the skys fires will fall and destroy your land. Where the gods care not for the welfare of mortal. Gods who would kill your parents and leave you alone in this world without a second thought to the consequences of their actions.” Once again her focus turned to the fork in the road. In each direction a thick mist had formed, which was not uncommon in these parts, making it impossible to see much more then a few feet in either direction. Using a single finger she pointed to the path on her left, “Am I to live the life of Peace and spend eternity fighting the gods in anger?”, then turning to the path on her right, “Or am to travel to the next village in search of a dream which I have discovered today died many years ago.” She sighed and sat down in the middle of the road as if awaiting some divine intervention. Chapter 2 - The Road It was not long after that that the sound of a wagon coming down the right side path was heard. She stood and wiped the tears from her eyes. These travelers, she thought, would surely be able to tell her of what awaits an adventurer down that road. A moment later a wagon appeared from the mist and stopped by her, in the fork in the road. An old man, possibly as old as time itself peered out of the wagon. Looking at her direction he asked, “My dear child, are you lost?” “No”, she answered, “but I have been awaiting travelers from either of these two paths. I wish to know what lies further down them.” “Well, what lies beyond this fork is something more beautiful then I could ever describe, it is of such beauty that the gods would take notice, that even the gods would weep at journey’s end.”, and then he smiled right at her. “Don’t listen to him”, there were two others in the wagon who now appeared from behind a curtain of silk. Both were beautiful women not more then a few years older then the girl herself. The first continued to speak. “He is as good as blind at his age.” The other added, “It really is quite evil for you to tease the girl. We really must keep moving or we shall be late. My child”, she said turning to the girl, “what lies beyond is what lies before you. A choice, and it is yours and yours alone to make.” And with that the curtain closed and the wagon continued down the road to Whitestorm. No sooner was it underway then it vanished. Not into the mist for there was none down that path, but into thin air. But the young girl’s back was turned and she did not witness the disappearance. “So tell me my dear tree”, she began pacing around the tree, peering to the branches as though she could see me, but I knew she could not. “Speak to me as you did before, is it really my choice, after all you do have the wisdom of the ages in your branches.” “It was not my choice to wake up those years ago to find my village in ashes, nor was it my choice to discover about, on this day, the death of my family.” She stopped pacing and peered once again up into my branches, “Our choices are determined by the gods as much as by random luck. Every where I go a village is still burning in flames, even after two whole years. People dying, others starving; thieves and bandits run wild in the woods and I have a choice? In such a world I would choose not to live.” And with those words the sounds of another wagon approaching took her attention away from me and my tree and back to the fork in the road. Chapter 3 - The Choice The wagon stopped before her. This wagon was larger then the first and four people could be seen inside as she went to the driver. “Excuse me sir, but could you tell me what lays down the path you just came from.” The driver did not move, but starred coldly forward as though he could not hear. “Excuse me”, she repeated, “I was wondering what lays down this path.” “I hope you do not expect him to answer”, came a voice from within the wagon, and the girl walked back to it. Inside there were four people who appeared to be a family. It was one of the young daughters who had spoken, “He has never said a word we think he is a mute.” The other daughter spoke now, she looked much like the first and could easily have been her twin, “Leave him in peace you know mother has said many times not to bother him.” Then the second daughter turned to the girl, “He is just an old man waiting for his time.” “Yes perhaps he is”, the girl answered and turning to the parents she asked, “Could you please inform me of what lays down the path you just came from? I wish to know which fork in this road I am to follow next.” The mother spoke first, “All that you can imagine lays down the path we arrived from, there are cities, towns, forests, lakes and more. There are places to eat, places to train, places to worship. An adventure awaits you along that path.” Then the father said interrupting, “I am sorry but we do have to hurry, our journey like yours is only just beginning and there is much journey which lays ahead. We must be off, but sin not and any path you chose will be a great one. But do chose wisely for you will never get this choice again.” The wagon then started to move but did not go forward, instead it circled back around until the driver was once again beside the girl. “What lies beyond is your own adventure my child. Death comes to us all, but it is what we do now while we are alive that makes us mortal”, he said smiling at her. Then the coldness returned his face and the wagon once again took way toward Whitestorm. And as it did, like the wagon before it, it vanished into the air. But this time she knew, and in shock and amazement turned back toward the tree and as she did the fog and haze, which until now had blinded her choices vanished and she could clearly see down them. Turning back to me and for one last time spoke to my tree as though it had ears. “Such an imagination I have, yet my imagination has cleared the paths. My dear tree, my journey laid before me all the time but now I can see for the fog has lifted. Dear tree I do envy you, for how easy it must be to be a tree, no choices, no destiny, no wrong decisions. But I do have one to make do I not, for the path I am on splits here and I must now decide where to go.” “But what does it matter which path I chose, neither will bring my family back, nor will my choice return life to the crops or water to the streams. What hope does this world have where the gods decide the destiny for all. For it surely were the gods who created this path knowing I would be on it this day, and they created this fork as well for what purpose I will not know. If I could truly chose, I chose not to live in such a world.” Epilog So there I was, sitting in my tree and smiling as she chose her path through life. It isn’t every day that a mortal gets to decide their destiny, but she got to decide and today was her day. Without any help from her kind, without any help from the gods she chose her path, and I was there to observe that moment. I watched as she chose neither path from the fork in the road and walked back to the village of Whitestorm.

Book 5

New Testament : Book 5: The Storm Preface Chapter 1 - First Impressions Chapter 2 - A Second Look Epilog Preface Gather around for I have a story to tell. Not of greatness, not of fame. Not of wonder, not of riches. My story is about the time I met a girl, a girl the world would grow to worship. Though she was no more a god then you or I there was always something about her which grabbed the god’s attention and which threw her life into the realms of immortality. The day was, for most, like all others. But that day was a special day for her even if she did not know it. It so happened that I was in the village of Whitestorm on this day and passing through the town square on my way home ran into her and the others who were there. The square was virtually abadoned except for a group of people huddling around the elder’s chamber, and a lone girl standing a ways back from it. A storm was brewing and, ahead of the rain, the first storm winds blew though the village. Chapter 1 - First Impressions I should first explain the layout of the village and the square in particular, for back in those days it was somewhat different then it is today. There was a town fountain in the center of the square with circular benches around it. The fountain was damaged and hadn’t worked for many years, at least since the time of the great disaster five years earlier. To the north lay the elder’s chambers, where council meetings were held. A few other small shops and public buildings littered the area but even after all those years the village was in need of repair and rebuild. There were nine benches which circled the fountain. It was usual that every now and again people would walk by and take a seat as they would wait for their companions to finish their daily business, and when their friends arrived, would meet up and go on with their daily tasks. But today was not usual and the nine of us were all there was. My attention was of course directed to the lone girl. A true vision to be held in my memories for all of time. She stood there oblivious to the fact she was being watched, not knowing the impact she was about to have on the world, or on myself in particular. Her hair, as red as dying embars, was being tossed around in the growing gusts. It was recently combed and braided loosely behind her and fell almost to her feet. It had never been cut, it had never been trimmed. Entangled into her hair was a tiara of dying leaves. She wore a cloak of green which glistened in the dying sunlight. The winds of the coming storm blew through her on occasion and caused her cloak to flap with the ferocity as if she were escaping captives on horseback. Though I am sure she did not mean to pose she stood as if she were the last soldier in a dead war, observing the end of eternity from her point atop the mountain of the gods. Her face held no emotion, neither joy nor pain. It was unmarked by any scars from battle or disease, unspoiled from any false colours or paints. Her skin a creamy white, her lips a subtle rouge. Her ears were not pierced and she wore no decorations other then those on her cloths. She had wisdom beyond her age in her heart, she held knowledge above her time in her soul. In her eyes she carried the fate of the world.
She stood there, alone, invisible to the others, listening to their conversations from afar. Knowing who she was, and who she would one day be, I took the opportunity to speak with her. As I approached she turned to me and I greeted her, “Hello Kala, what a fine day it is. How do you find this day to be?”, those were my exact words. She replied, “I find this day quite interesting to say the least. But tell me stranger, I do not recognize you. Have we met before and how do you know me?” I replied to her, “I am just a traveler, here to worship. We have never met, but I have heard of you”, and I gave her a smile, “And what may I ask do you find so interesting?” “Well for starters that you have heard of me. I find it hard to believe that a name as my own would travel far in either time or space. I am but a lone individual. One I suppose that does not matter.” She stood quiet for a moment then continued, “Over by the elder’s chambers is a subject which I find most interesting. Notice the four individuals standing by the entrance, and the three others seated at the bench.” I had in fact noticed them earlier, and knew them all personally as they knew me. But I kept silent as she went on, “Notice the tallest by the elder’s chambers. It is rumored he is true evil. In the past he has cheated and lied to gain power and wealth. With him his exact opposite, true good. He has gained his power and wealth from honorable dealings. In fact his honor is his one fault for he will not lie nor deceive. With them are their children, a daughter and a son, just coming to the age of marriage. They will marry each other in the coming days in an effort to unite the two families into the controlling power of the city. With such families working together the elder’s power to council would be obsolete. While one would live on sin the other would be worship and the city would surely fall into utter chaos."
"Then we have the old man sitting on the bench. With him the two daughters of a long forgotten union. He has been here since time began and awaits for the elder’s to emerge from the chambers. He is the third and the only one who stands a chance of being chosen above the others.” She paused for a minute and I could tell she was eavesdropping on the conversations being held by the chamber doors. I could not hear any conversation above the daily noise of the city and the approach of the storm, but then again I was not her. She continued on, “I have been standing here myself, listening from this point to all their conversations. The old man has said very little and I do not know his plans. But the others have been loud and I have learnt a lot about them.” Chapter 2 - A Second Look Her attention then wandered from me and back to the silent conversations.
I took this moment to observe her again, this time from a much closer position then before. Though her face was clean the rest of her was not. She wore only wooden sandals with weak leather straps on her feet. Her hands were bruised and blistered and covered in the same dirt which covered her all. The cloak she wore was badly ripped and smelt of the rock soap used by the poorest of villagers to clean their cloths. In fact her cloak was still damp from being recently washed. Under it a tattered and torn skirt was wrapped about her waste and over her body. It only then occurred to me that this was not the girl I had thought she would be. Though it was her in person she was not crowned in gold nor lavished in silk. This was not a leader and hero to millions, this was a lone girl unsure of the future, unsure of the past, unsure of the present, blind to all that each held. It was no wonder she was able to stand out in the open, unseen by those whom she was so diligently listening to. I was intrigued and almost uncontrollably I reached for her cloak, but before I could touch it she pulled it away. She turned and faced me and fingering the tear said with a sigh, “It is a tiny rip, I know. I have been meaning to mend it but have not yet had the means. As for the dampness of my cloak, it would be a waste of time to dry it completely for I shall get it wet tonight in the rain, and by tomorrow it would be in need of a wash again.” I was a little taken back that she knew my thoughts so well and for a moment I considered the possibility that I had mistakenly spoken those words aloud. But before I could respond her attention once again left me as quickly as it came and she faced back to the others listening to all they had to say as though the incident had never transpired. We stood there like that for some time, it could have seconds, it could have been hours. On occasion I was able to pick up the odd word being said by one person or another as the cold winds of the approaching storm steadily grew. Then after a few more moments she turned to me and continued on as though I asked the question. “It was two nights ago that the previous leader of Whitestorm was taken by death. He was a good leader and helped rebuild the city, perhaps a bit slowly. But he did. Today the elders are in seclusion in their chambers. They will choose a new leader from those in the square and the chosen one will lead Whitestorm until his own death comes and the cycle starts again.” And then the rains began to fall. I quickly took shelter within a public building nearby and called for her to join me. But she didn’t come she just stayed there, then after a moment she turned to me and said, “I am not afraid of the storm.” Epilog But by now my time there in Whitestorm had grown short and I had to be off. I waited for a slight break in the rains, which never came, then left her and the others for though I wished I could, I could not stay longer. I left the way I came, her words still echoing in my head. It was not long after that the doors to the elder’s chambers opened, and the new leader of Whitestorm named.

Book 6

New Testament : Book 6 - The War Council Preface Chapter 1 - The Satyrs Chapter 2 - The Elders Epilog Preface Kala paced back and forth out front the elder’s council room, her blue cape flowing after her. Behind the doors were representatives of the towns and villages which surrounded Whitestorm. Any minute she was to go through the doors and inform them of Whitestorm’s plan of action, but she was stalling, waiting for word from the council of elders before she made any decision on what to do next. “Hope is all we have now.” she said to the messenger with her. “We must get in contact with the council immediately and find out what is taking so long. Go, follow the paths the elders took into the forest to the satyr’s war council and bring back any word they send on the situation. If the elders can not…”, and she paused, “Let us not think of that. Go quickly and bring back any word you can.” Chapter 1 - The Satyrs I continued to take notes of all happenings as Kala requested. My writings were to serve as a history should the worse happen and we lose this war. With her were her two advisors. One who thought to attack now, while the other favored a defensive stance in hopes that the satyr’s would not attack. She continued to pace back and forth before the door. The first advisor spoke, “We must attack the satyr’s while they regroup. Once they have refortified their positions we can not possibly win, even with all of Atheria on our side. Most towns can not feed themselves much less support an army. Attacking now is our best chance.” “I will not attack the satyrs without word from the elders”, she turned around quickly and pointed to the elder’s council doors, “nor will I go through those doors and ask the others to do just that.” She paused and faced towards the door as she had repeated yet again what she had been saying for the past hours. Doubt was beginning to set in even if she would not admit it but I was not an apprentice scholar and I had seen this doubt before. “Leader”, spoke the first again, “This is not a matter of attacking an innocent people. Even within the satyr ranks there is discontenting. I have word from some of our very best spies that within the satyr forces lie a faction dedicated to annihilation of Whitestorm. They will stop at nothing to see that goal come true.” “To attack without word from the council would be a sin against all Whitestorm stands for, and you know that.” was her only reply. Kala continued pacing back and forth, faster with each step. Once, maybe twice she approached the council doors and stood almost as though she were ready to go through them, but she always held back, waiting for a message from the elders. Finally after minutes which very well could have been hours she turned to me and said, “Scribe…” But just then a bloodied messenger broke through the entrance and approached Kala. His face was covered in blood, most of which appeared to be his own as part of his arm was missing and he bleed profusely on the ground. Chapter 2 - The Elders Barely able to speak the message he addressed Kala, “Leader, ” he said, “As the elders approached the evil satyr’s war council we were attacked. In a matter of seconds we were surrounded. The elders all tried to flee and were protected with their own fighters but not all made it safely.” “There was no time to prepare a defense and two of the elders were killed, but one did run into the woods as if guided by Peace but I then lost sight. The attackers jumped the wagon and slaughtered us all. I was left for dead and waited until they left before daring to return here.” Barely able to talk and spitting up blood the messenger continued, “Only the last good elder was seen alive, it does not look well for us.” And with those words he fell lifeless to the ground. “I did not even have the time to bring a cleric to his side.” Kala said kneeling beside him. She stood up and looked towards her advisors. It was now the second who spoke, “This is not a time for worship, the cleric could not have helped. This attack could very easily have been the work of the faction my equal spoke of earlier. With the council of elders killed we would be dysfunctional and they could easily overrun the city.” “But you are right leader, this is not the time to attack.” he continued, “It is not the time to prepare for their attack. We must strengthen the walls and have the forces positioned to protect the city walls.” Grasping on the only straw she had, Kala spoke again. “There is still one good elder left. If he can get to the satyr council I believe this war can be prevented. Moving the forces to protect Whitestorm would serve no purpose as the other towns would be left vulnerable with no defense. Already farmers and travelers are slaughtered by the satyrs, no one is safe if they are not behind the walls of their city. I will not surrender those lives for the lives of those within these walls.” “Then we will attack”, spoke the first advisor once again. “We will wait and give the elder a chance to make peace.” was her reply. And once again we waited. From behind the council doors we could hear the same arguments but much louder even if muffled by the door itself. War was soon to break out in the council chambers as well as the battlefield if unity was not brought soon, and Kala was the only one who could bring that unity, but she would not enter the room until she gave the elders every possible chance to prevent this war from happening. Silence fell in the waiting room where we stood as Kala resumed her pacing before the door. And arguing continued on the other side of it. Then after a few moments cries of shock echoed through the city and the voices on the other side of the door changed. At first it sounded as though the town itself was being attacked but that was not so. A moment later the cause of the outside commotion, and for the silence behind the door became apparent as a messenger burst through the outer doors and kneeled Kala. Epilog This messenger bloodied as the other but appearing to be in somewhat better health and carrying a blue cape addressed our leader. “Kala, the good elder has been visited by death.” And he took the blue cape he held, the blue cape he took from the dead body of the last elder and he placed the golden insignia of Whitestorm, which was stitched into it, into Kala’s hand. Kala held the cape in her hands for a moment, then let it drop to the ground as she turned and faced the door yet again. She drew her sword as she spoke, “The last of the elders has been killed, and we are now at war.” Raising her sword high above her head she swung it down, breaking the lock on the council doors and flinging them wide open.

Book 7

New Testament : Book 7 : The Journey Continues Preface Chapter 1 - Reflections Preface Once again Kala faced saying good bye. It had been nearly 25 years since she gave word to Atmos that she was leaving Praxis, little did she know at that time she would never return. Nor did she know then of the life she would lead, the changes she would make to the world and the impact she would have on thousands of lives. But this time she did not face a lone man, this time she faced the world.
Chapter 1 - Reflections I was there the day Kala left Whitestorm. It was an off day and I was passing through the town square when I noticed the doors to the council chambers were opened. Since the council was not to meet on such days I took an interest in the goings on. I snuck around the building and peered inside through the side window. Inside there was only Kala and another person, who’s back was to me the entire time and so I did not see his face, which is how I was able to view the entire goings on without being seen myself. On the council table lay the blue robe of the elders which Kala usually wore, and on-top that her sword. Kala addressed the person before her, “My decision has been made, and I must leave, and nothing will convince me to stay.” She paused for a moment, then began to walk around the seated man. “So many things have changed these past years. I do not remember my childhood, in fact I do not remember much of the years before I came here and made Whitestorm my new home. I do remember though the world which we all did live in.” “Already a few years after the fires, years, and still there was death and destruction everywhere. All that was left of this building we are now in was a single wall. How many dozens of families were homeless and living under the branches by the river? Look at the world we now live in and all that has changed.” “Little by little people were given homes, and they in turn helped build new homes for those without. Within a year after I became leader everyone had a home. And this town was once again alive.”
Kala kneeled before the man, “From the rubble which still lined the roads you and I rebuilt these very chambers. How many people have come and gone since then? Good leaders of others, great friends of our own. How many lives have we influenced in only trying to better our own?” Kala stood again and walked away from the man with her hand on her chin, lost in thought. It was a moment before she once again spoke. “Do you remember that old man of the sea. I have not seen him since the time I came to power, but I remember him telling me of lands far away where the fires never fell, and how he would one day sail in a ship there. What was it he always said… ‘All it will take is time… All it will take is time’. I thought he was crazy, you did too, we all did. But as the years went on we did learn how to sail in the wide ocean and we did find those lands.” “And that scholar, the one who always sat in the town square and told everyone how he would one day fly as a dragon does in the sky. No one ever listened to him until the day he flew into the town square under a balloon guided by the winds. How many balloons did we lose after that in the Badlands before we learnt to navigate the air currents? But we did learn. We learnt… WE learnt.”
Kala appeared to become agitate as she said those words, almost angry. She stopped talking and walked over to her cloak and sword. Somewhat calmed down she continued once again, “No… I don’t remember by childhood, but I do remember a world without ocean ships or air balloons… and the magics. How much have the magi improved in recent years? And what of the new classes appearing, more specialized and dedicated to a certain way of life.” Turning back to her companion she continued, “My friend, I know your thoughts, you think I have gone mad, but I assure you I have not. You see just this morning a child came up to me and asked me why I made the sea ships. She wanted to see her father who was out at sea and seldom returned to Atheria. She asked me ‘Why did I make the ships?’”, Kala paused a moment and then answered her own question, “I did no such thing”. “Nor did I create the air balloons, or fight in the battles we won to secure this town. But I could not tell her that for I knew she would not understand. “But her words opened my eyes, and I can not believe I did not see it earlier. As the day continued I listened to what others were saying. It had never occurred to me before today, but I listened to all the conversations.” “Do you remember back when we rebuilt Whitestorm? After each new building we praised the gods for their guidance. After each family was given a home, when we first set sail or successfully navigated the air to Cardania, when the magi discovered the entrance to the fire planes, we praised the gods for their guidance. But today I listened and people praised me.” Walking back to the table which held her cloak and sword, “No, it is not the first time I have heard such praises, but in the past I have always felt that their praise was more of a thanks and that the praise was to the gods. But today it felt different. I listened to their words and the gods were not even in their thoughts.” “I had not thought to take notice of it either but this morning at the temple I was the only one there. When I arrived this city may have been in pieces, but each morning each person would be at the temple. I do not remember when people stopped appearing. I suppose it happened slowly at first until one day I was the only one who remained. And I am left asking myself if I am the reason for it.” Kala picked up her sword and fingering the sharp edge she continued once again, this time though it appeared to me that she was now talking to her sword and no longer to her companion. Her voice was hollow and lost, and she spoke almost as though she were in a trance.
”Many years ago when the fires came the gods did not appear. Worse yet they let the disasters come, then left us alone to rebuild and bury our dead alone. When I went out on my journey to find my parents and when I discovered them dead the gods were not with me. When I became leader the gods were absent. And each battle we fought to secure this town we fought without their help.” “I know this as well as I know anything, but I can not live my life believing there are no gods. If I had a choice I would chose not to live in such a world.” Kala replaced her sword ontop the table. “That is why I must leave, I must go and find the gods; for staying here they will never find me.” “The leaders of the classes shall rule while I am away. I will be back, one day.” And with those last words she turned from the table which still held her cloak and sword, and for the last time she walked through the council doors…

Book 8

New Testament : Book 8: The Last Hour Preface Chapter 1 - Introductions Chapter 2 - Travels Chapter 3 - Death Epilog Preface What follows is the absolute truth. If I were you and listening to this story I would not believe it myself, but I was there so I know that it happened. This is the story of Kala, a legend by her own name in the world of Merentha. Myself, I was but a simple elvan tailor who happened to be in a tavern one rainy night. I made a meager earning, enough to keep myself and my family feed and housed. But because of the event that unfolded that night my life was forever changed. My family gone. They left me when I started to tell this tale. I tell you this story now so that the same fate does not befall another. I write this in a time where belief in our gods is crumbling, where people are beginning to believe the gods don’t really exist. But I know they do. I take you to that rainy night, to that tavern in the hopes that you will learn. “You know, I heard that she was the direct creation of the gods for the good of mortals.”, said an elf sitting at a table with an gnome and human. “That’s nonsense, I heard that she was kidnapped by the Asmar at a young age, trained in their elite evil forces then escaped. When she returned she lied and cheated people to became who she was.”, replied the gnome. “You’re both wrong.”, said the human, “This is what really happened.” Chapter 1 - Introductions The tavern which we were in was nothing special. There was a stove burning in the corner heating the house from the rain chilled air outside. About a half dozen patrons were present, all telling stories and drinking ale.
The young human who spoke was the lone female at the table. “Many years ago people lived a much simpler life then they do now. There was not so much excitement and discovery like there is today. People were born, lived, had children, and died all within the same village. Very rarely did they venture far except for trading with other near by villages. This is the world she was born into.” “Kala, you mean Kala. I heard she is without sin?”, asked a giant of a man who pulled up a chair and sat at the table with the three. You see, Kala was on the tips of everyone’s lips recently. It was rumored that she would be passing though this very town in a day or two, and everybody, including myself wanted to meet the legend. But I will leave that to the story itself. “Yes, I mean Kala my large friend. But like all others she was not without sin.”, answered the female smiling. She looked around and for the first time saw all those around her. Just by mentioning the name Kala she gained the attention of the entire tavern, including myself who was eavesdropping just a few feet from them. “Come, gather around and I will tell you the story of the life of Kala.” She stood up and offered her chair to an elder behind her who sat down quickly, eager to listen to the tale. She took another chair from a vacant table and returned to the others. Smiling at the attention she gained she continued, “It was in this world that she… that Kala was born. And she was so beautiful that the entire village would celebrate her day of birth each year. That is until the day the fires came.” “The days the fire came”, the whole group chanted. That was a dark day in our history. You are too young to remember that time. I was just a child then myself, but I remember the fear we all shared. For days fire fell from the skies and the world shook with anger. Every village was destroyed, crops burnt, rivers flooded, many, many people died. But that itself is yet another story, perhaps one I will share with you another day. The barkeep brought everyone drinks to the table that we all huddled around now. He sat down and joined us as our storyteller continued.
”Kala was from a village called Praxis. The village was home to hundreds, but only a few dozen survived. It was… it was now that Kala began her journey. She awoke the day after the fires to a burnt home, to a burnt village, to a burnt world. Not knowing about her family who were away travelling when the disaster struck and uncertain about what to do now, she turned to Atmos, the legendary elder of Praxis at that time.” “Atmos?”, it was the old man who spoke now. “I knew Atmos, but that was in another time. A time long ago.”
The story teller continued about the time of the fire and since it is such a well known tale which we all have heard since our own childhoods I will not repeat it here but to say she described it in such detail that I could have sworn I lived in those days again as she spoke. She described the rebuilding of the village and the rebuilding of hope and the rebuilding of a new life. It was the same story for a dozen small towns such as the old Praxis, now called Cabeiri. The rebuild of Cabeiri itself is a legend to be told another day. “It so happened that not long after the fires was the celebration of Kala’s birth. But Kala did not wish to celebrate and said her good-bye to Atmos and left Cabeiri wearing only the robes on her back and the shoes on her feet.” At that moment a thunderous clap of lightning struck near the tavern, blowing the door to the building open. There were three women at the entrance who walked in and closed the door after them. It appeared that they were part of a family, a mother and two twin daughters, each one more beautiful then the other. The three of them came towards us and sat around the giant who spoke earlier. The eldest of the females, and I assumed mother spoke to the male giant.
”I apologize for our lateness my worship, but we were preparing for Kala.” Chapter 2 - Travels It was now that I first spoke. “You know for certain that Kala will be coming here then?” “Yes, she is coming.”, smiled one of the daughters, “We have yet to decide what do with her though. We hope nothing drastic.” At that the giants laughed. As to why I did not understand at the time. “So you know Kala then? Are the legends true?”, I asked perhaps even more eagerly the before. “What is truth? What makes someone a legend?”, asked the bartender.
”Perhaps a legend is merely the fact that people sit around in a tavern and talk about you after your death. Perhaps truth exists only in the fact that the legend is told in the first place.” The bartender got up and tossed some more wood onto the fire. The elf spoke again, “What is truth? What is good?” “What are lies? What is evil?”, chimed in the gnome. “I did not know we were engaging in philosophical issues tonight, let us continue to story of Kala.” Our storyteller smiled and continued on, “Yes, let us. Kala left Cabeiri with only what she was wearing or caring. She traveled to many villages looking for her parents. Everywhere she went she saw the same destruction which befell her home village. Since she had helped in the first stages of rebuilding Cabeiri she was able to help some of the towns along her way. In each town she shared and gained new knowledge which she used in the next, until the day she arrived at Whitestorm.” “It was in Whitestorm that she discovered her parents had died. By this time it had been two years since she left Cabeiri and had lived in dozens of villages. Finally her search was over and now she did not know what to do. She looked back on her journeys and could not think of a person she met who could help her. It was then she decided to start a new life and make Whitestorm her new home.” The story teller went on, telling how Kala helped to build Whitestorm. At that time it was not the busy center it is today. Instead it was much like any other small village. She went on to tell how Kala used her knowledge gained over the previous years to rebuild Whitestorm, and then in the 5th year after the fires came, Kala became the youngest leader in the history of the town. It was under Kala that Whitestorm grew, and air balloons and sea ships were built and new worlds discovered. These stories were the same stories I am sure you were told as a child growing up and so again I will spare your time and not retell a story which you know so well. She continued talking for an hour, telling us the tales of how Kala settled the battles between the elves and the satyrs by building them fortresses in the forest. She told the tale of how Kala tricked the orcs into the dragonwing caves and the story of how Kala negotiated peace with the kingdoms of Cardania. It was getting late and the bartender again gave new life to the dying fire by feeding it more wood. Taking a break from talking, our story teller excused herself to bring us all back another round of drinks. Chapter 3 - Death Our story teller returned and continued on with the end of her story. “Kala told her people that she had one last quest she must go on, and this one by herself. She called an election for council of Atheria and told them they were to rule until she returned. That was over 25 years ago.
Kala walked into the forest and vanished. And during these past 25 years she has appeared passing through the odd village on her quest. Only rumors exist of the quest she is on, or when and where she will ever turn up next.” Our story teller stopped talking and everyone sat in silence. Finally I spoke, “Who spreads these rumors?”, and then I nodded to the giants, “You said you were expecting her, how do you know she will appear.” “Perhaps we should let her finish her story in peace”, answered one of the sisters. Our story teller took a deep breath, with a somewhat confused look on her face and continued. “Kala’s quest was to seek the gods. The new age which was born because of her troubled her deeply. She believed in the gods, and she felt she was the only one. In a world where people could fly though the air and discover dozens of new race, or sail the seas and find new lands which were never before known. In such a world people no longer praised nor believed in the existence of the gods.” “Kala’s own village of Cabeiri was named for some of them and legend had it that the gods themselves rebuilt the village. And Kala began to find herself doubting their existence. So she went on a quest to find them.”
Our storyteller stopped taking and starred silently at the wall behind me. “And in time would finding the gods help?”, asked the elder. Our story teller continued to stare at the wall as she answered, “It wouldn’t. But this world was not what Kala wanted. She wants to meet the gods, to explain to them in person that she did not intend this to happen.” “And after all this time is she still looking?”, asked the elder. Our story teller looked confused, more so then before. As she spoke she seemed even more distraught. “Yes she… no… no she isn’t. She was, she was on her way here from Imladris to find them, but… I don’t remember… what happened.” The bartender spoke, “It was raining hard and the passage you were on weak. As you were crossing the forge in the mountains there was a landslide and you were washed down the mountain and died.” And with those words a smile grew across our storyteller’s face. The other eight in the tavern surrounded her and as if by magic they all vanished into the air. Epilog It is that which I am here to tell you today. That I sat in the same room as Kala and eight gods on that rain chilled night. I sat with Kala, and with Good and Evil, with Sin and Worship, with Peace and Hope, with Time and Death. And I watched as she was put on trial, a trial of her life, the truth of her life. Not the legend which we are all told, but the true life and the true tales of Kala. The truth that the gods do exist and that Kala was not one of them as we were taught to praise her as. She was afterall just one of us. I know it is not a popular belief… but it is the truth. I don’t know what happened after they left, nor do I know where they went.
I would like to think that the gods understood and forgave her for creating a world where mortals praised her instead of them. I’d like to think they took her into the skys and placed her among the stars, that somewhere, up there, both Kala and the gods are looking down on their creations, and smiling.

Book 9

What Legends Do a (short) merentha play The Players Father - a male of about 20 Mother - a female of about 18 Atmos - a male of about 50 Scene 1 A dark street, lightly lit by a street lamp. A male person, possibly human (Father) but it is to dark to tell, is pacing back and forth infront of a small building. A medical symbol can barely be made out above the door of the building which is closed. Father: (pacing infront of the building) Oh how I worry. My dear wife is with child and this very minute is giving birth beyond this door. This matter would not be so grave if not for the fact that the child is early. To complicate matters the clerics are away. Fortunately for my family to be, a young apprentice by the name of Atmos was left behind. Though he is a farmer by nature, events of the recent past have allowed him to take up the art of medicine. I do worry though that he is not taken seriously by clerics and may not have the training to help my dear wife. All I can do is wait out here until my child is born. Mother (off stage): (screaming) Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh (Father turns around quickly in shock at his wife’s scream, stage goes black) Scene 2 In a fairly well lit room. It is lit by several torches around the room. What we see is the corner of the room. A bed lays against the walls such that the mother is laying on the bed. At the foot of the bed leans Atmos. Atmos: The child is almost here. You must push harder. Mother: (screaming in pain) Ahhhhhh Ahhhhhhhh (After a few seconds of labor screams the mother faints from exhaustion and Atmos holds in his hands a still born child.) Atmos: By the will of the gods the child was born without a breath, without a life.
(looking up to see the mother fainted) And the gods have taken the life from her mother as well.
(Atmos walks to the head of the bed and takes a closer look) Good news at least the mother is not dead, but rather has collapsed from the effort to bare this child. What am I to do now with such a child? (Atmos walkes to the door) I know the father is just beyond this very door, awaiting the birth of his first born. How am I, a lolly apprentice cleric to tell him his child is dead. What am I to do? (pace with child for a few seconds) I will bury this child in the graveyard and decide what to tell the parents as I do. (leaves out the back door) Scene 3 At the graveyard. Atmos has just buried the child and covered the hole. A bridge over a stream leads back to the village. The scene is lit by an orb floating near the head of Atmos. The bridge is nearly completey dark. A basket sits on the bridge but is not noticable. Atmos: Dear me, I have buried the child of a family I barely know. Nor do they know me. What am I to say or to do once I return? I must return now even if I can not find the words for surely by now the mother has woken or the father entered the room.
(Atmos takes a few steps towards the bridge) Baby: (soft crying) waaa waaa waaaa Atmos: Why what is this (walking across the bridge) but a basket with a child. And a note with it. (Takes note from basket and begins to read) To whoever finds this letter, to (at this point the voice over of the child’s mother is hear continuing on with the letter) Offstage Mother: to whoever finds my child, forgive me. I am but a lone mother with no means, no property, no family. It is not an easy decision which lays before me but it is one which unfortunately for this child is forced upon me. I was once a proud wife with a strong and respected husband. Together we had planned a great life and had the means to make it happen. We were married on a spring morning, with the first spring winds blessing our vows. Such a beautiful day it was, we were told by the elders that there was none finer in known memory. The winds brought with them the petals of the mountain rose which rained down upon us. It was said the gods were there that day to bless our marriage and that nothing bad could ever happen to us. But they were wrong. It was not long after that I discovered I was with child. Celebrations were held in honour of this moment. During the celebrations the invaders came and destroyed our town and everything we owned. Those with the ability armed and armoured themselves and took after the invaders into the mountains. My husband, her father was among those which went. He did not return. With our possessions destroyed and no means to gain more, for the village too was in shambles, I left for another town where I took to begging for scraps of food and change. If I were to keep this child even a worse fate would befall her. I could not force that fate on another, much less my own. In such a world I would chose not to raise my child. To whoever finds this child, her name is Kala, please allow her to keep this name. Please love her. Please care for her. Today you are all she has in this world. I ask you never tell her of me, never let her know of this, let her believe you are her rightful parents, for now you are. Treat her as your own and give her a good life, for these things and nothing more are the best a child like her could ever have. These are all that I ask. Farewell… (Atmos picks up the child, still holding the letter in one hand and walks off as the letter finishes) Scene 4 Back in the room with the mother. Same scene as in scene 2. The mother is still sleeping. Atmos walks back into the room just as the mother is waking up. He paces around the room with the child, the child is making typical baby google noises. Atmos: (to child, craddleing child in arms) shhhh do not cry child. Atmos is walking around, uncertain as to what to do. He is confused and disorientated. As he walks by the mother’s bed the mother reaches for the child. Mother: My child (reaches for the child as Atmos walks by and takes the child from Atmos) (Atmos is about to object when Father opens the door and peers inside) Father: Forgive me but I heard the cry of a child and I must see for myself. Mother: Come see your daughter, she appears healthy, is she healthy Atmos? (Atmos still dazed and confused and is searching for the right words but is not given the oppertunity to talk) Father: Such a beatuiful child, and such an ordeal it was to have her.
(Turning to Atmos) Even the most wisest of the cleric doubted a safe birth for both mother and child. Atmos you are truly a gifted cleric. Without you, a practical stranger, our child may never have been born. Dear Atmos, I give you the honour of naming our child. (Atmos is struck and has barely heard a word said. He still holds in his hand the letter from the basket.) Atmos: Kala, her name is Kala.

Book 10

Who Legends Are Preface Chapter 1 - Then Chapter 2 - Now Epilog Preface It had been many years since Kala was last seen. In fact it had been years since her name was even spoken. It would have appeared as though she was forgotten and left to the annals of time. But she hadn’t gone anywhere. At this moment in time she was traveling from one village to the next… the next village. It had become a reoccurring theme of her life, always traveling to the next village. Infact she had been doing it for so long she could barely remember anything else. So long ago in fact that those days when she ruled Whitestorm and changed the world were more like the memories of ancient fairy tales then that of actual events of the past. Chapter 1 - Then It was raining, heavily. The skies were clear when Kala left the previous town and the storm had come on rather suddenly. Fortunately, Kala was near the end of her journey. She had been in these woods before, may years ago and vaguely remembering a lone cottage not far off she hurried on her way. Where a tree was fallen by the storm she climbed over it. Where the path forked before her she would sometimes turn right, other times left without ever giving it a second though. She was in a hurry for she was running from what she now feared. Kala feared the storm. The sudden rise of the storm had covered the world in darkness, but it did not hinder Kala from her journey. Knowing she was approaching the cottage her thoughts returned to the time when she was first in these parts. It was many years ago, before she was ruler. Traveling, and lost, she stumbled upon the cottage and its owners, a young couple who had just given birth to their first son. They gave her rest and shelter, and most of all guidance, though they did not know it at the time. Back then, Kala now thought, she was just a child herself, running from the unknown, uncertain of what to do, unable to see the choice which was before her. Still saddened by her parent’s death she stumbled upon this household and its inhabitants. That night, after a dinner with the family and after the sharing of her story the father spoke words to her, words containing the wisdom well beyond his age. Kala still remembered his words, “You do have a choice, but you will not like it. You awoke one day and choose to search for your parents. You choose to leave Whitestorm after finding of their deaths. You choose to come knocking on this door and you choose to stay the night. But you did not choose your parents to die, nor did you choose to live in a world which destroyed your village. And you could not choose my hospitality no more then you could choose the clear skies of the day. So although it looks like you have many choices in life, the truth is that in all the randomness and uncertainties in the world you really have no choice in how your life turns out.” “But you said I do have a choice”, Kala answered. “You do… in all this world there is really only one choice you can make, only one choice which you can truly effect the outcome of… you can choose to be good, or you can choose to be evil.” That night, confused and uncertain to what the man meant, Kala left while the others slept. She did not go far before coming to a conclusion. And she took the robes she wore, the only possession she took from Praxis, and buried them by the side of the path, under a tree within sight of the cottage. Leaving the last relic of a world she would leave forgotten to the sands of time in a place where no one would ever find it again. Chapter 2 - Now Kala was near the cottage now and the storm raged on. Quickly she approached the door and banged heavily on it, but there was no answer. Desperate to get out of the downpour she opened the door and let herself in. But it quickly became apparent as to why there was no answer to her knocks. In the storm a tree had fallen over the cottage, collapsing the roof. The cottage now provided no better shelter then the outdoors.
What Kala did not see was under the tree lay the roof beam and under the beam a young man, and his wife. Both dead and killed from the fallen tree. About to leave and continue to the next town Kala heard the quiet cry of a child, and searching though the rubble found a new born baby in a crib. Quickly she grabbed a toppled basket of apples and pouring the fruit out put the baby girl in the basket and left the cottage. Quickly she scampered down the path but lost her footing as the road was muddy. Gathering her senses, and the child, she stumbled upon the robe she buried all those years ago, peaking from the dirt, under now, a much larger and older tree. Picking up the robe in both her hands she quickly remembered burring it. Bringing it to her face she inhaled deeply, it smelt of mold and dirt, but to her imagination she could still smell the rock soap used to wash it all those years ago. Without thinking, as if guided by the will of the gods, or perhaps guided by the knowledge which she gained over her life she took the child and wrapped her in the green robes.
Kneeling before the child she smiled. Then taking an ancient scroll from within her own robes, opened it and smiled once again. “My dear friend Atmos” she whispered. Rolling the scroll and placing it beside the child she gave the child a kiss on the forehead. “May Atmos find you well”. And with those words, the child, the basket and scroll vanished. Not knowing truly what had just happened she stayed kneeling over the emptiness once filled by the basket and its contents, but only for a moment as a large bolt of lightning struck only feet from her, knocking her to the ground once again. Getting up she continued on her way to the next village. Her walking stick lost in the commotion and hobbling from the fall, she quickly made her way down the path. Her thoughts now turned to the warmth and dryness she would soon experience, and those she would share it with. The last town she was at barely acknowledged her. How things had changed, she though. When she first left Whitestorm she was a hero to all. She would arrive in a village and be treated as a god. But lately no one paid her any attention. No one recognized her. Her statue was still prevalent in many towns but people had ceased praising her and returned to the temples. Thinking back she could not remember when the change took place. Little by little, she supposed, people stopped recognizing her. She was able to enter towns and visit the temples, on her journey to find the gods without being noticed. And as time went on more people were seen in the temples as well. Perhaps, she thought, it happened at the same time. In fact she now could not remember the last time she was recognized. Epilog Approaching the forge she found the rope bridge which connected the two sides. On the other side of the bridge lay the next town. She started to cross the bridge, eager to get out of the rain. Her thoughts once again returned to the changes over the last years. How ironic, she thought to herself. All she remembered now of the time she was leader of Whitestorm was the day she left, and the events which triggered her to go on this journey. How everyone stopped praising the gods and praised her instead. And how quickly it had all happened, virtually overnight. And now, that she was on this journey, people had stopped praising her and returned to the temples. Crossing the bridge she stopped for just a moment about half way and pondered if she would be recognized in this next town. But a moment was all she needed. She did not know how or why, but she knew her journey was now over.

Book 11

The River Crossing Kala found herself a young child once again, walking along the path, the sound of a river flowing let her know that her journey through the woods was about to end. Turning the corner she saw the river, and to her dismay a washed out bridge. Two old men stood over a small boat talking. She was too far away to hear their conversation but as she approched the men shook hands and departed. The first took a seat on a chair by the river, the second walked towards Kala, past her, and into the woods. A silent smirk, a subtle grin, a sheepish smile attached to his face. Kala appoached the man in the chair and asked if she could borrow his boat to cross the river. Unfortunately, there was a problem. “Child”, the old man questioned, “why do you wish to cross this river?” “Because it is my destiny, I wish to go to the other side.” The old man just smiled, he knew who she was, and who she would one day be, and he knew that it was her destiny to reach the other shore. “Many people have tried to cross this river, and all they gained from it was fatigue and hardship.” “What is on the other side?” “The other side holds the answer which you seek. You are free to use my boat if you wish, however, there is a leak in the boat, it will have to be repared before the boat will be able to make it to the other side.” And so Kala went to work trying to fix the leak. By the time the sun was setting she was done, but did not wish to cross the river in the dark. The old man, who had been fishing the entire day offered Kala a place to sleep for the night. He took her home, introduced her to his wife and togeher the three of them shared the fish he had caught that day. When morning came and the old man awoke, Kala was already gone. But he knew she wouldn’t have goten far. Returning to his fishing hole he saw Kala, working on the boat. “What is the problem child, I thought you would have been long gone by now.” “I would have been, but as I got into the boat and shoved off, the oar broke before me. I now have to fix the oar before I can continue.” And so was Kala’s second day at the river. When the day ended she again returned with the old man to his lodge, shared a fish dinner with his family and dremt of crossing the river tomorrow. And so it was day after day. Another problem, another task Kala had to complete before crossing the river. The river was too fast, she couldn’t swim it. It never froze, she couldn’t walk over it.
Beavers would strip pieces of the boat during the night and it would have to be repared before she could cross or floods would just make the trip too dangerous for that day she could do nothing but wait. Days turned to weeks, and weeks into months. And with every passing day Kala become more determined to cross the river and see what was on the other side. Months turned into years. She travelled long distances up and down the river looking for another place to cross, but always returned to the broken bridge and boat, there was no other place to cross. Years went by and Kala grew from a child to a young woman to an old woman. Every day when the old man awoke Kala was already gone and when he arrived at his fishing hole Kala would be hard at work mending the boat or working on another task to help her across the river. There was no rest. Never a day off, never a thought in Kala’s mind but to cross the river. It was morning, many years later, Kala now an old woman, but the man hadn’t aged a day when returning to his fishing hole he saw Kala, not working on the boat, but laying within it. As he approached he saw something he hadn’t seen in many years… a smile upon her face. “So you finally figured out how to cross the river.” “Yes, I now know what is on the other side. It was my destiny.” And so Kala stood up, shook the old man’s hand. The man took his usual seat by the river as Kala walked back into the woods, along the way passing by and smiling at a young boy just emerging from the forest.