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Lost Tales

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Fiksal stood in the library of Dalaran, walking along it's oak shelves, filled with books from around Azeroth. He moved to the abck of it, where several musty tomes resided. He reached forward, picking one at random and blowing softly, the dust scattering off it. He peered closer, trying to find the title, but finding only writing in an odd language, one he did not understand that criss-crossed over a title in common, blocking it out. He flipped forward a few pages, taking a seat and reading the first chapter, learning quickly it was a collection of stories.He then began reading....

"Vinkono and Ritos"

"Two villagers lived in their village, never having met each other or seen each other. One lived away from the village on a farm, the other the daughter of the innkeeper.The man on the farm did his work every day, working hard to make sure all the food and supplies they would need to live and trade with were well-tended and grew well before the coming of winter. The woman worked the coins given for pay at the inn, measuring them for weight and therefore value, and making sure the ones who attempted to pay with false coins were not rewarded for their cunning with a bed,food,and drink.They lived their lives as everyone else in the village did, thankfully with a set path and knowing what they would do, training under the people they wished to take over for someday. They reached the age of eighteen, being accepted by their village as adults, along with others of the same age. Time passed, and the woman's father was struck by a strange illness during the winter, passing away when she was nineteen.She took over the inn, keeping the travelers that visited the village comforted as her father had done. The man worked relentlessly until he had obtained a farm of his own, where he grew what he knew how to each year.Time passed further, with them both leading their lives until the day a meteor fell from the sky, crashing into the ground of the village. All flocked to it, wondering it's purpose and what it was. Some hailed it as a sign from the gods, an omen. Others took it for a blessing, that it would give them good health granted by the gods. The man and woman shared a different opinion, one granted by the strange feeling they received from the rock. It permeated their being and sent a chill in them, and the rock seemed to grow more menacing and eerie by the day. One night, both seperately decided to investigate the rock by some means. They approached the rock as night fell upon the town and doors were closed, families sinking into beds for sleep. They met, and could sense the strangeness that had sunk inside both of them from the strange rock. They made a plan, and came back the next day at twilight, both with large hammers taken from the blacksmith. They brought the hammers down upon the rock once,twice, three times. On the third strike a shaft of gleaming green shot up from the rock, and the rock split. They looked inside the rock, and saw two beings curled inside. Both beings eyes opened,revealing pure white. The beings shot out of the rock, the green glow adding to their godly splendor.The two villagers stood dumbfounded, watching the beings. The beings spoke in unison, their voices silky yet powerful. "We are Vinkono and Ritos, the bringers of Light and Dark. Come to us once again tomorrow, and our presence shall be explained." The villagers nodded, and ran to their homes. When the village discovered the split rock, they searched the town for any signs of who had done it, beleiveing this act would greatly displease their gods. The two villagers stayed away from the others, coming back at nightfall. The two beings appeared, and spoke again with their odd voices. "The world you know is plain, and simple. All know their path. But the gods do not want this. In order for you to flourish, and become what the gods wish, you must act independent." And so the two beings lifted their arms in unison, a wave of brightness flowing over the village and the world, before darkness came and flushed the brightness out. They turned to each other, and took each others hands, and the light and darkness merged and took their forms as day and night, before the beings disappeared in a bright flash, along with the two villagers, never to be seen again. The world gained night and day, which made the village and the rest of the world stray from their paths, to different ones. Better ones, which in time allowed the world to shape and form and grow.

(I'm going to submit some short stories that have no real meaning, just stuff I've thought about or written at one time or another. I hope you enjoy!)

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