08-06-2016, 07:39 PM
Akkadian
"Awk-ay-dee-Uhn"
Deep in the sands of time we lay to rest a family cherished by all. The king Sarram-Nir, prince Nir-Sandad, the queen Larsa-Uruk, the second-son Akkadian-Shakkad, and our child Princess Jjalari-Uruk. May they find peace in the realm beyond, and bless us still in their absence.
Black as a demon's shadow he merged and blended with his immediate surroundings like a furtive plague. And like a plague he carried death in his wake. Every last person that had known him intimately now stirred in their crumbling graves, the dust and ashes of their corpses mingling beneath the sands of his homeland as he walked a stranger's land. While his family's ripped and dismembered bodies had rotted in the desert sun, his confused heart slipped away before any could confirm he wasn't among them.
As the second-born son, the sole purpose of his life was to protect his brother-prince, and he had failed them all. To seek revenge, a profoundly desirable option, would be foolish and wasteful. No amount of battle training could bring them back to life. But to stay and carry that noble mantle was also not an option, for he was not truly a second-born prince whether the populace was aware of that fact or not, but merely an interloper delivered to the late queen as a sickly child. He had no rights to it, wasn't trained for it like his admired brother Nir-Sandad, and frankly didn't want it. To all involved, Akkadian died among his family in that massacre. And in truth, perhaps he did.
He must have reached a boundary of some kind as his attentive senses were attacked with stimuli; visions of sunlight and darkness, waterfalls and ice-capped mountains. He had expected a difference in climate when he abandoned his homeland to get here (another story in itself), but this was beyond logic and explanation. Some kind of magic flowed through this earth floating all around like the dusty sands from his own. It was some kind of portal maybe.. If the people, too, were this enchanted, perhaps even with all his battle studies, techniques, and stratagem he would be left at a disadvantage. That was unacceptable.
Every direction he looked seemed to shift to a different image, his eyes alight with uncertainty and suspicion as the sun began its slow descent to evening. Lost and without purpose, the former bodyguard stood tensed and waited to see if one vision would call to him more strongly than the others. Each one reflected on his dark face in a multitude of lights and colors, but even still not a sound could be heard. Like a silent film he watched, steady gaze shifting from one to another every few moments, with no other audience near but the trees of the forest surrounding him. He couldn't go back, but which way was forward..
Black as a demon's shadow he merged and blended with his immediate surroundings like a furtive plague. And like a plague he carried death in his wake. Every last person that had known him intimately now stirred in their crumbling graves, the dust and ashes of their corpses mingling beneath the sands of his homeland as he walked a stranger's land. While his family's ripped and dismembered bodies had rotted in the desert sun, his confused heart slipped away before any could confirm he wasn't among them.
As the second-born son, the sole purpose of his life was to protect his brother-prince, and he had failed them all. To seek revenge, a profoundly desirable option, would be foolish and wasteful. No amount of battle training could bring them back to life. But to stay and carry that noble mantle was also not an option, for he was not truly a second-born prince whether the populace was aware of that fact or not, but merely an interloper delivered to the late queen as a sickly child. He had no rights to it, wasn't trained for it like his admired brother Nir-Sandad, and frankly didn't want it. To all involved, Akkadian died among his family in that massacre. And in truth, perhaps he did.
He must have reached a boundary of some kind as his attentive senses were attacked with stimuli; visions of sunlight and darkness, waterfalls and ice-capped mountains. He had expected a difference in climate when he abandoned his homeland to get here (another story in itself), but this was beyond logic and explanation. Some kind of magic flowed through this earth floating all around like the dusty sands from his own. It was some kind of portal maybe.. If the people, too, were this enchanted, perhaps even with all his battle studies, techniques, and stratagem he would be left at a disadvantage. That was unacceptable.
Every direction he looked seemed to shift to a different image, his eyes alight with uncertainty and suspicion as the sun began its slow descent to evening. Lost and without purpose, the former bodyguard stood tensed and waited to see if one vision would call to him more strongly than the others. Each one reflected on his dark face in a multitude of lights and colors, but even still not a sound could be heard. Like a silent film he watched, steady gaze shifting from one to another every few moments, with no other audience near but the trees of the forest surrounding him. He couldn't go back, but which way was forward..