XVIII – Too Much Information?

It had been a curious and strange ride so far. But, even with what we’d seen and done, I was not prepared for Whitey the Seraph’s story, which he seemed really anxious to tell me. I had never liked bedtime or mystery stories so I was a little leery of what my mysterious friend might have to say to me. I hate it when a gut feeling tells me I’m right and reality proves it.

There we were. Me repairing armor and trying to look calm with Whitey the Seraph about to complicate my busy life further. I sat myself down on a nearby rock and waited for Whitey to speak. It wasn’t long in coming.

*Prepare yourself General. What I am about to tell you is the basis for many of your oldest legends. You must believe that what I say is the ungarnished truth. We Seraphim cannot lie nor would deceiving you benefit us in the least.*

Whitey stopped ‘talking’ and I notice that the Furry named Phred had ambled over and was sitting cross legged next to us. His large blue eyes had an almost hypnotic quality about them. Whitey had stopped when Phred appeared. Now he continued.

*Phred, as you refer to him, is here to translate the concepts I am about to reveal to you. Many of the events I will descibe do not have comparable references in your own experiences. Everything will be translated to you accurately and in full. Nothing of what I reveal to you will be withheld or edited. Do you understand?*

Like an idiot I just nodded my head. Phred had already started his part of the job because everything Whitey told me came across as vivid images inside my skull.

*Let us start with a statement of fact. Man’s knowledge of his beginnings and his rise from savagery are woefully incomplete, or the facts have been twisted all out of recognition. Accepting this reality will allow me to accurately tell you my story. Do you understand and agree to this?*

I nodded yes, still unable to get my tongue to work, or say anything.

*This world called Earth has seen countless ages of change. Some beneficial, others terribly destructive. What I will relate to you concerns a period many tens of thousands of years past when the race you sprang from was still a concept. Mere images in the minds of those who, as time wore on, dared to call themselves gods. In the time of which I speak, this world was known as Terra, and was the seat of a powerful and advanced society ruled by a higher order of Man known historically as ‘The Fourth Human Race’.

These men had come from outside Terra at least a million years earlier in search of a new home. Some time before, their world, a place known as Tellus, had been devastated by the fires of runaway technology. So complete had been the destruction that nothing lived, or could live, on it’s smoldering surface.

The few survivors fled in all directions from their ruined, scarred home, ten thousand of which came to this world Terra. Others fled across the stars to Tellus’ twin world, Rhodenitia, already inhabited by Fouth Race Humans. But that is another tale.

At the time of the migration, Terra was a wild, untamed world which had not yet been ‘graced’ by the presence of Mankind. This soon changed. Men came to this world and tamed it to their will. Or so they thought.

Great cities rose, pushing back the natural order of things, and men multiplied. Science was their god, and only a very few remembered the old ways of their people, or what had brought them to Terra in the first place. Governing this society where those who were called the Great Lords, and their vassals, the High Lords.*

From the sound of things, I was in for a long story.

Chapter XIX

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Published in: on July 18, 2010 at 1:46 PM  Comments (1)  
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