The Seven Hungers: Prophecy Reborn: An Urban Fantasy Adventure by Morgan Quaid

Author:Morgan Quaid [Quaid, Morgan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-14T00:00:00+00:00

16. See

The scenes play out before me like films. I stand above myself, observing the action below as each scenario unfolds.

I’m standing on the deck of a boat, Finch and Rook beside me, both dressed in sailor’s garb. The ship rocks and groans beneath the pitching sea as a creature from the great beyond emerges, tentacles flailing, bulging eyes looming large.

Its head blocks out the sun, dull green ridges like horns above deep emerald eyes flecked with yellow. Smaller tentacles thrash about a gruesome maw lined with jagged teeth as larger limbs flail and thrash above the water.

The crew scream in horror as the Lovecraftian nightmare bears down on the ship amid foaming seas and splintered wood. Men and women fall overboard. Others fire flintlock pistols or stab with knives or cutlasses. The Leviathan roars, opening its savage mouth and devouring the ship and its crew whole.

The Maker’s voice rises from the back of my head, an unseen narrator to the action playing out below.

I am not the player of games and japes as the histories have it, sorcerer. There is a purpose to my work, an intention toward perfection, the establishment of a world at perfect peace with itself.

The scenario below shifts, and I see myself trudging through swampland, a machete in one hand, sweat running down my forehead, Rook and Janus struggling behind me through clawing heat and oppressive foliage.

Serpentine figures snake through the water ahead of the group. We all pull fetishes from our belts, small wooden stakes with shrunken heads strapped to one side, along with brightly hued feathers and old bones. We shake and rattle the fetishes as a host of oversized serpents rise from the water, fangs bared.

Countless scenarios played out with countless lives. Beings both intelligent and dull witted tested beyond their normal capacity to endure.

I’m lying with my back against a vast stone ball as large as a house, floating in the air among thousands of other stones, each with their own host held in place by some unseen means. I pull the root-like rope holding my right hand against the stone, and it shifts in midair, turning so that I face the stone traveling parallel to mine.

Finch comes into view, guiding the other stone closer, smiling. She speaks, but her words are stollen by the wind. The version of me in the scenario below seems to understand. I shift direction again, and both of our stones spin so that we’re facing ahead.

A gargantuan beast roars in the distance, a beetle-like creature with a triple-horned head. A thousand smaller beetles fill the air around the beast’s head, like flies pestering a cow. Finch and I brace ourselves, along with dozens of other rock bearers, as our trajectory takes us toward the titan’s body.

This has long been my obsession, sorcerer, but my rebirth and recent disturbances in Prophecy have given that work new meaning, renewed focus.

I swim in an intelligent soup, along with Rook, Janus, and Finch, each of us possessing only the most meager form of physical embodiment.

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