He looked back at the ring, then the black board. Its shape remained square, no sign of rippling that hinted at Eltium. Its surface, however was brittle like scrapped tal or maybe stabbed ones.
Is this so relation to what happened to the preacher?
The board had secluded round spots throughout its form. These spots were either rimd with a pure whiteness or so level of darker grey and atop them were circle disks. Like stones except the edges were far smoother.
There was a clear difference in the disk stones; sowhere ashy, the rest white and a clear demarcation existed between them. On one side were the ashy disks, and on the other were the white ones.
An understanding that one part of the disks was to represent the fern and another the preacher was not lost on him. Though the underlying function of them still hovered out of reach.
Taking from the story, the preacher wanted to save them, but also wanted to save himself. He wanted to fly to the sky. What represents that in this ga?
I'm almost certain black sun has no relevance to the actual nature of the ga. Even the story had no ntion of a black sun.
rrin looked again at the disks; their roundness, their rims. Most of them looked the sa. He paused. Most of them looked the sa, but not all of them.
He peered and saw that on the whiter side of the board, the disks there, all except one were the sa. The outlier had a thin golden circle over it, and it stood in the center of the whiter part of the board, as though it was being protected.
Protected…
Protected.
Protect the preacher from the fern! He startled at the awareness. This was it, wasn't it?The ga was to protect the gold disk from the darker ones. The fern!
But how then? We move the pieces? He noticed the board had a scrapped surface to it. Assuming that's true, what then is the pattern to it?
"You ready to be mine?" rrin looked up, eyes locking with the man.
Almighty, help .
"Anything to say before you no longer can?" The man sneered.
Being your slave ans I can't talk? rrin looked to the ring, a frightened chill raiding his body. Unnerving. Was that so function of the ring? So outco crafted using symbols?
This, like many, brought the understanding of terror. The terror the casters posed by their existence.
The man moved his fingers,
n will question what it was that caused what was to happen. They would find reasons to hate the one that had co to save them--to preserve them. What mindless born they all are. You ask what it was that brought light, I tell you it was the lowest of n. Yet despite this, he was a mind like no other."--Collected from the diary of the last living Sun Witness. Childless, she taught her life as a Scholae
rrin startled at the board—at the ga he had just won. When was I this clever? It sent a shudder through him as the knowledge of the blessing a caster brought. Either that or this particular gift ca from the El'shadie.
"Ah. Ah." The man stuttered, "You cheated, you cheated!"
rrin looked and eyes were upon him. Countless, the slaves; n, woman, even the musciain and the harlot. They all looked at him, awe, confusion, even fear written through them.
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How had he won? they would have wondered. How had he won? he too ruminated. It was a strange feeling, similar to when he declared paradise to the witnesses. Knowledge ca from the symbols, this he knew, but at that ti, it was sothing more.
A connection.
A deeper sense of the symbols. He felt their knowledge flow from everything—the walls, the floor, the air. All things gave him insight—and with it, his mind, a strange ans of collection and comparison, brought understanding. It was not sothing like knowing the future, rrin simply.
I got smarter!
He looked down at the board. On it was a chaotic sprawl of disks, his, the whiter ones were much, while the other, the opposite, was lesser. A re three.
The ga, as it turns out, was one of elimination. The disks had to surround one of the opposite color in order to win. This could have been simple, except the size of the board and the disks ca into play. Always, always, the opponent made sure his disks were in pairs. And one could not kill a pair, not without using his lead—in rrin's case, was the gold rimd disk.
But that brought the possibility of death, and if the preacher died, then so did the ga. His loss. rrin learned this with clues, subtle hints at the way the man sneered to certain moves.
Knowledge. Too much knowledge.
More in, he realized the ga had two winning factors, if he lost his golden disk or if the opponent had little of three disks remaining. Supposedly, fern had a custom to abandon battles if only three lived. Hozier had mumbled this.
rrin trembled.
This he learned in a sudden burst. His mind was open, clear, focused. Even his fear felt distant, as though the procession of other things left no room for it. How cold he felt, how serene.
Then the desk shoved back, slamming into his stomach. His mind churned, and the awareness of what had been done registered. Too late, as a man was already lunging at him, fist clenched, body wide like so beast.
Monts passed. Now, he heard a voice—no not heard, not just now at least. He had heard it instants before the man chose to pounce. No, he was simply grasping what had been said.
"Sad that such a talent was born in these mines," a man in the back said, "Sha. He could have been an attendant or sothing. Maybe even work for a castWarer. Sha sha. Now he dies."
Die? The fear ca, and rrin pushed. Not the man, the winds, or whatever symbol it was that made them. He didn't seek to see, only to defend.
There was a wail of wind as the man, the stronger, flung back—his back, crashing and pushing back desks upon desks. Weaker n, too, were caught in the sudden presence of wind, their clothes billowing as their bodies left their chairs and t the ground.
His strength waned, and the wind stopped, and rrin felt his stomach tremble with bile. So weak he first—his mind also felt punier, dumber—or at least when compared to what it was a mont ago.
Thoughts shattered, saliva trailing down his lips. "I'm sorry," he managed to say, then staggered back. Eyes were still on him, countless gazes now shifted into one of utter fear. Oh, what would they say, what would the….
The notion faded from him like mist splitting between fingers. Any attempt to reach for them worked less than before. It was as though his mind… was waning.
I need to leave. Staying would be suicidal. Not after what he had done.
rrin turned, his gaze moving to a dark object on the ground.. The ring was there, left unguarded.
"It's mine now…right?" he reached for it, grasped it and walked on. No one tried to stop him, maybe like him, they too were paralyzed by sothing.
I need to find soplace to stay. His legs wobbled, the world curling like bent string. Was he walking or falling? The assuredness of that was lost on him. It didn't matter anyway, as long as he found sowhere. Soplace safe to call them.
To summon his ardents.
rrin's feet clashed against rock, painful, hot. Don't stop. He willed himself and enforced it with a step at a ti. The world was spinning, people, little more than images, a blur of colors. There was a press in his throat; bile struggling for its outness. He resisted and walked on.
More eyes were upon him, he felt it, but could not see it. n, stared, so tried to move, but were stopped by others. He moved pass them, their gaze watching, learning of his person. Who was he, they would wonder. Was he dying, he hoped not.
He crashed into sothing solid, a person.
"Are you mad!" the man scread, his face a mixture of brown, black, and white. Different colors or rged in a swirling mass. Everything was swirling.
"Can't you speak?"
rrin staggered back. A hand had pushed him. The man.
I don't have….ti. Against his awareness not to, rrin felt the fragnts of power within him, and he pushed. He rembered the symbol that had placed Ron to sleep. And though his eyes could not see, he still felt them. Sowhere close, a person was asleep.
That was all he needed.
He found them and pushed them—forcefully this ti. Next, a body dropped to the side, the impact sending a brief gust to his feet.
Don't…burn. rrin prayed with so instance of clarity and moved on.
And now it was worse. The world had lost its color—gray, black, and crisp form was all he saw. The voices turned into a jumble of words. They still spoke, he knew, but he no longer understood. Language, understanding, thought—all of it was gone.
So he heard, but he didn't.
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