Necropolis (Book One of Book One) by Penn Fawn (reading like a writer txt) 📗

of never caring to return here?”

The elder laughed.

“I suppose this could be,” he said, “but I doubt it.”

Ali was all ears.

“To reach these imagined places, you’d have to traverse the length of the inside of the mountain. No one, mind you, knows this way. What’s more, is our great seers say its entrance is said to vanish the minute you enter it.

“Do you imagine you’d be thinking about bountiful lands upon entering such a place?”

“I see what you’re trying to do,” Ali said, “but I am of firm resolve, and aside from that, what you say is not the first I’ve heard of these kinds of tales.”

“Tales, you call them?” Nabii asked.

“Yes. There are more than enough of them where I am from, of every conceivable variety. About gods and goddesses and the like, and an ever-growing audience with a fancy for them it seems,” Ali said.

“And, what would you make of your time here? Your life? Is that not a tale too?”

“It is,” Ali replied. “But it is real.”

“Real, you say? I must ask you what is real?” Nabii asked.

“Real is what is true, as opposed to the stuff of fantasy,” Ali replied.

“And, is your time here not also so near impossible that at one point you may have thought it perhaps a bit strange?”

“Perhaps,” Ali replied. “But one naturally accepts it for what it is or becomes used to it.”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” Nabii replied. He looked Ali squarely in the face.

“In time, you will become used to what I am telling you too. All men with a dark heart and mind will.”

“What do you mean?” Ali asked.

“It is impossible for any of us to have any recollection of how we arrived here. Is it not?”

“It is,” Ali replied.

“You, my friend, unknowingly spent near nine months in your mother’s womb in a suspended state of darkness, then one day you opened your eyes, and you were here.

“In time, as you say, you grew used to it, to your surroundings. You developed a heightened sense of awareness of this world that lies before you, one you had no knowledge of because you never were. A fantastic tale, is it not?”

“When put in that way in which you described it, yes, it is,” Ali replied.

Chapter IV – The Forest Of Souls

THE LAST IMAGE THE guides who Daniel accompanied on their hunt recalled was the outline of Nyeusi’s figure on the horizon. He appeared in silhouette, given that the sun lay behind him and its light was in their eyes. A second before that and the image of pouncing cats imprinted itself on their minds.

The fear, the terror, the pain they felt was no fiction, yet there they sat out on an open savannah unscathed.

The outline of three men with drawn swords, glistening in the light of the sun, moved toward them.

They rose, turned around, then ran as hard and fast as they could.

What started as a sprint progressed to a long steady jog.

Alas, they observed, a forest lay yonder.

Exhausted, they threw themselves onto the grass at its entrance.

Keita looked up at the sky.

“On our journeys, we have been this far east before. Have we not? We traveled this far and more for the better part of a day, and there was always more grassland to cross before reaching the forest,” he said.

“We are not where you think we are,” Ossouna replied.

“That I can see,” Keita said.

“But do you understand?” Ossouna said.

Keita did not reply.

“We have never been here,” Ossouna added, trying to cover the note of dejection in his voice.

Keita became pensive.

“Have you no recollection of anything?” Ossouna asked.

“I do,” Keita replied. A chill came over him. He broke into a cold sweat.

“We were out on a hunt for the men of the north. Weren’t we?” Aswad interjected. “Do you recall?”

“I do,” Keita replied. His body began to shake.

“What else do you remember?” Ossouna asked.

“Being attacked,” Keita replied. “Mauled by savannah cats, and I would swear they belonged to Nyeusi. I saw him as I gasped for what I thought would be my last breath.”

“What do you recall, Aswad?” Ossouna asked.

“The same,” he replied.

“Then can you explain to me, if this is what we all remember, how then are we here?” Ossouna inquired. “And, where exactly is this place?”

“’Tis not our home,” Aswad replied. “Or, at least I don’t believe so. Any reference to it is a deception.”

Keita was visibly shaken.

Ossouna’s heart raced. He hoped to wake himself from what he thought must be a dream only to acknowledge he was very much already awake.

“Had I the courage to ever venture to the top of the lair, at this time I’d sooner have jumped off and dashed my head against the rocks below in preference to this here, you hear me?” Keita said.

“Get a hold of yourself, man!” Aswad said in a hushed tone. “Lower your voice. We don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves!”

“This cannot be! It must not be! What is this, and what or where are we? In a dream? I want out of it!” Keita continued.

Ossouna got hold of him. He wrestled and pinned him down onto the grass.

“What’s wrong with you? Get a hold of yourself,” Ossouna said.

“Get off of me!” Keita yelled.

Ossouna pushed his hand firmly down onto his mouth as he tried to wriggle himself free.

“Settle down, Keita!” Ossouna said in a hushed tone.

Keita moved his head, as best as he could, in an up and downward fashion.

A horrified Ossouna softened his grip as Keita opted to offer no more resistance. He removed his hand from over his mouth.

“What the hell is this place, and where are we?” Keita said under panting breath.

“Shut up! We should be dead, but we are not, and you panic? Rejoice that we’re still alive!”

“Is that what we are? How so? Are we now spirits? And, where are we? Are we safe here?” Keita said.

“I don’t know. I say we should get out of sight for a while. We should take