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The Whisper of Keys

ArchivedUserArchivedUser Guest
edited April 2018 in Fan Stories
As a youth my mountain village was oft visited by the 'Speaker of Tales' whom i later discovered was the father of my father.  He would gather children round the Central Hearth and weave yarns of magic and heroes, of chaos and tranquility, of adventures cascading from reality to story to myth's and legends.

As i grew older, stories from the elder adventurer began to wane as each stretch of time between his visits lengthened.  Rare and cold was each season that missed the Old Man until memories of his visits into my childhood began to fade like details of a dream I try desperately to cling to after awakening. 

It was on a fateful night that Gres'kory and Deonise, my surrogate parents, shared what would be my final meal with those who raised me as their own.  We sat in complete silence and broke our sup with meats and dried fruits and fresh stone bread and with each moment passing my anxiety grew with anticipation.

Gres was the Smithy of our village with mighty arms and great chasms of wisdom and age carved into his face barely visible thru the full, red beard curved into a constant smile that was my father.  Leaning back to allow his apprentice access to clear the table, the dining hall grew quiet.  Gres leaned forward, pulling a parchment from his cloak and said in his usual voice of soft gravel, "We have word" and with that reached over handing me the scroll.

My dear boy.  I am amazed at the ease with which i can recall events that so long ago i tried so very hard to forget. The flame of my life is nearing the eternal walk among the plains but I send this final word to you, the last of my blood.  Find the Key.

The Key of Whispers has seen many lifetimes filled with adventure and heroics as those who seek the Key live dreams in far away places with crystal skies and majestic forests and towering mountains all the while a film of wretched evil lay in wait around every dank corner and under every ruin.

Find the Key, dear boy.  Find the Key and let it bring you home.  This final clue i leave for you and yours...the map and all my knowledge of the Key and its last known location is on the back of this parchment.  May it serve you well - as it has me, all these long years.  Good bye.

"Your mother and i stopped thinking of you as a boy the day you could swing my hammers with purpose.  This scroll comes to us by way of the Wanderers who as you know have little sense of Time or Place.  Best I could learn, they came into possession of this scroll several Winters past and the only decent clue they left behind was plane as the back of that parchment:  There is no map, no writing there.  I'm sorry Lad."

It's here my adventure begins...and while I lay dreaming about what tomorrow may splay out before me i am haunted by the parting words of an Elder i barely knew...Find the Key.

From the Story of El - New Beginnings.


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