|
Once upon a time, in a dungeon deep below the mountains and lands of the humans, there reside a small community of bomys. The bomys of this particular dungeon fed, bathed, and saw with the glowing pool of emerald water which trickled in as the only source of life they had to support them.
A humble bomy, raised by his humble grandfather after his very own parents had died defending their lands from bandits, had to make a choice. The bomy saw his grandfather's failing health and realized that the only thing he had loved was going to die like his very own parents.
Pressed by the choice, and the growing violence within his small community as the tyrannical leader sought out seemingly fictional witches and burned those held any trait he had defined as satanic, the bomy went to venture for the legendary human magician, Edwin.
It was a long journey to the lands of humans, above all of the bricked and dirt dungeons the humble bomy had ever known. The growing storm, the first which a dungeon-dwelling bomy would ever see, was very trialling, and the humble bomy quickly sought refuge from the storm. Here on the lands of human he found a house, which - knock as he might - seemed deserted.
Only after opening the entirely unlatched door did the bomy quickly slump into a heap and give to the fainting exhaustion of his travels. Here, in the protection of the house, the bomy awoke to strange creaks, and a chattering in tongues never spoken. Though the house was unlit, there was a broken window through which the flashes of lightning lit the walls briefly, the bomy noticed the strained figure of a skeleton, one which haunted the shadows and howled at the lightning.
Still in his exhaustion, the bomy fainted in fear, where he dreamt of his grandfather. Decaying, and floating before him, the humble bomy's grandfather warned him of the failures; his own being unable to procure the cure in time, and the leaders in concentrating on his witch hunt while forgetting the ever vigilant bandits - who invaded and destroyed every trace of the humble bomy community so that they may take their shining emerald water.
In a sweating fit of delusion the bomy awoke in the house, where the storm had passed and the shining light of the human surface graced every corner of the room - where no skeleton was to be found. After leaving the house, the bomy traveled on a road, where he soon came upon a seemingly dashing individual - who he, in his excitement, ran up to and began shouting his adventurous plan of procuring a cure for his grandfather. Seized in the grip of the demons wooden face - eternally frozen in a fit of agony, and the hair as black as the skeleton-ridden shadows of the stormy haunted house, the bomy backed away in fear. The stranger, seeing his advantage over the young and desperate bomy offered him a deal - a meeting with Edwin if, in turn, he gave his humble soul forever more in return.
The bomy, seeing the foolishness such religion his tyrannical leader had caused, immediately accepted, assuming the wooden-faced stranger a mad man. Soon they went silently together to meet with Edwin.
There, in the house of Edwin, all sorts of wonderful and frightful things graced the walls. Adorned in flowing fabrics which seemed to float, and adorned by a crown which shawn with the familiar light of the emerald pond he had left behind, Edwin sat at a table so high the bomy needed a stool to pear over.
Edwin agreed to make the potion if the bomy would acquire the only ingredient, and a small stock for further potions, from the highest mountains of the human lands. Although a long and trialsome journey, the humble bomy soon made his way to the top, whereupon he rested before acquiring his stock of water.
From the view he looked out upon the wonderful human lands, and was seized; there, at the dungeon entrance he had used to access the human lands, was a plume of smoke. So dark, and so thick was the smoke that the humble bomy saw, in an instant, the truth of his nightmarish and ghouldly dreams; his land had been destroyed and his grandfather along with it.
In desperation, and a fit of anguish the bomy ran to the pool. Here he lept in, to escape the thoughts and, with a youthful hope, to cure his very own ailments. Sinking, slowly, the bomy realized how futile his efforts had been. His time wasted, his soul sold, and his loving grandfather - dead.
Sinking now, further - so far the sun is blocked out, the bomy relaxes into the gentle emerald glow of the water where, as he drowns, he realizes this is the same water he has left behind.
His soul to burn in hellfire; forevermore. |
03-13-2007, 08:38 PM
KART
RACE
Golden Pluffy Winner in Poetry 
!
Hybrid Mode
