The Waxing Moon (The Areekyan Chronicles Volume 1) : A new epic fantasy series set in the land of Areekya by Markwick Barry S

Author:Markwick, Barry S [Markwick, Barry S]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-11-21T00:00:00+00:00

The Captive

The impenetrable darkness had given way to Sunlight, Moonlight and Starlight. He had been moved to a new cell with a window; it had rusty iron bars that separated him from the world outside, but a window that allowed in the glistening rays of the natural universal light bringers. Still, the man inside was in control; ruminating, meditating, building the strength needed to survive. His meals were now two times a day; no more stale bread and water, but fish and fresh loaves. The guards still grunted and spat as they delivered his food. He still returned their actions with a smile, a thank you, knowing that they could do no more harm to him. No more than they had already done, many, many Moons ago. The evil they had afflicted upon him had not penetrated the inner-man; there he understood that evil can only do harm once the man reflects that same evil back. This the inner-man understood and practised, hour by hour, day by day, Moon by Moon.

Knowing that change would come, must come — for what else is there in this world, but enduring change? — pushed the inner-man forward. Waiting for change had been a blessing, a treat, a daily observation and affirmation. The rational mind of the inner-man had control. He had usurped the outer-man long ago, and was witnessing the change that is promised with every Sunrise and setting Moon. The inner-man still had his rational mind. He still worked through the days, minute by minute, hour by hour. The outer man’s long grey beard had been trimmed, his rags replaced with a tunic and undergarments. The outer-man was being prepared for change, for some as yet unspoken task, and he complied with the utmost obedience, this outer-man. But he was not in control. This had been given over to the inner-man long ago, many, many Moons ago, and he was ready. He is ready; he is prepared for the change that must come.

His legs and hands no longer chained, he was free to pace his cell or write his meditations with the parchment and ink provided to him by the surly, disdainful, but now obedient guards, and always accepted with a smile.

On each sheet he wrote with fastidious artistry, using the old tongue: Eh sunar te siat gorne. Eh sunar te siat gorne. Eh sunar te siat gorne. Eh sunar te siat gorne. Eh sunar te siat gorne...

Once his parchments had been used up, he turned to the walls. Using the chalk that came with the ink and parchments, he reproduced it with precise elegance onto each wall, in neat lines: Eh sunar te siat gorne. Eh sunar te siat gorne. Eh sunar te siat gorne...

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