Antenoran Survival


27-10-2009 19:29:31

This posted just because I liked it and wanted to not just throw it away.

Something stirs me from my sleep, is this another test, is this one of my peers seeking to kill me for their own advancement? No matter, close my eyes, be set for it.
With a lunge I hurled myself from the bed at may assailant, I knew where they were to be, I pushed against the bed with my mind, creating a small lift in my jump, I would surely have them.
With speed that I was unable to counter my attacker spun, grabbed me by my tunic, and with the precision of an ancient siege machine flung me across the room into a wall, then cam towards me after, then all faded to darkness.
Bitter cold biting at my feet was the next thing that woke me. I found myself alone, outside, and dressed in nothing but my bedclothes. Where am I? Have I been cast out? Where ought I to go? Is this too a test? The questions raced through my mind as I gathered my strength and started to survey my surroundings. One direction seems to have the glow of lights, no matter why I am here, if I do not make it to some civilization I will surely become one with the force, permanently.
I progressed through the night as fast as my feet would permit on the terrain. I tore from my tunics sleeves, creating foot wraps to allow me to run through the night. My arms now exposed, ancient symbols and text that have been a mystery to me now exposed. I had always tried to keep them to myself, as I cannot recall their origin, nor can I understand their meanings. Contemplating on them had always drawn me to the dark side, feelings of lust, anger, conquest, rage, and that was what I needed right then. I allowed my mind to remember the images, the text, the symbols, this drove me past the pain I was aware of growing in my feet and my legs, and the bitter cold I was feeling in my hands. I had to keep the blood flowing, I had to keep moving, running, closing the distance between myself and civilization, food, and shelter.
A dim glow began growing from one horizon, this was obviously the sun. How much ground had I covered? How much more was there to cross? Were there others that I may find along the way? Was I being observed or followed? As I prepared for daylight to come I prepared myself mentally, knowing the bitter cold of the night would be exchanged for the extreme heat of the day before too long. To my right I thought I saw something duck behind a dune in the dim light. I was uncertain as I had been now running for unknown hours, driven by anger, anger I could still not grasp the reason for. In my unknown past I somehow thought how dare they test me, though I could not place my mind on why. Was this from some knowledge of a past I have not yet discovered, or was my mind simply doing what it needed to to drive my body onward. I did not care, I must survive this test, no matter the reason, I was to survive if for nothing else but to get to know who I would one day punish for this insult. And there it was again, I have no control over that feeling of righteous indignation over being tested in this manner, as if I in some private part of my mind held all these here as my lessors. I did not understand that, I know nothing of my past, and they offer me knowledge that may well answer the questions that have haunted me for all the time I am capable of remembering.
There, again with better light I am certain of it, further with my pace slowed by the growing heat and my need of water and rest, I see a form on the horizon. The heat is growing so I must remove this tunic, and take some of the length from my trousers. I wrap what I can of the garments around my head, sheltering my face, ears, and eyes from the sand, and my head from the now blistering heat of the sun. This figure remains in place while I alter my garments, though I cannot make anything out too well. I try to look like I am stretching out for a moment while I gather my strength, bring my anger to the surface, then charge towards the figure at a speed I had not been able to muster since it was still dark.
When I got to the top of the dune, the figure is nowhere to be seen. It is as if I must have been imagining this shape, this stalker, whatever it was. It looks like for whatever it was, it had offered me some aid, as I saw something in the sand beyond the dune. Needing help in any variety I was willing to go see what I had descovered.
I found a grim discovery, it was the remains of another lost soul, claimed by this desert, their legs the only thing uncovered, but removing more sand I found an entire skeleton, still dressed in tattered robes, and to my delight, wearing boots. Further digging in the area uncovered a small canteen, holding a small amount of water which I immediately drank, as well as half a protein bar, which I also consumed without hesitation. I put on the boots, but the rest of the clothing was in tatters. The belt too brittle to be worn again fell apart in my hands.
A desire came over me, there was something still there, calling to me, further in the sand. I drove my hand into the dune as an impulse more than a consious thought. I was elbow deep, then shoulder, then I felt it. Metal, cold, and it fit into my hand as if it was wanting to be held. When I pulled my hand out, it grasped a dagger of some metal I could not recognise. What I did recognise however, were the characters on the hilt. They were the same as the ones on my body. I felt a surge of dark power rush through me. I was on my feet again, and there it was, the figure again, as if following me right over the dune I had crossed before. I ran at it with a burst of speed, quickened by having soled boots on as well as a dark desire to find out who was following me, but again, the figure was gone.
The heat of the day was growing, and it was beginning to take a toll on me. My thirst and hunger were winning over the anger driving me forward. I found the steepest dune I could find, remembering the difference in temperature deeper in where I found the dagger, and dug myself in save my head that I tried to mostly hide with traces of scrubs that I found blowing around. Exhaustion won over caution, and I fell asleep. My dreams were filled with images of the writings on both the dagger as well as on my body, in addition to images and writings I had never seen before. Spoken words in a language I did not know, chanting, rites, ceremony, but nothing made sense to me.
When my eyes opened it was to the fading light, but on the top of the neighboring dune again I saw it, a figure, this time back lit by the fading sunlight. Wearing a robe or a dress with a hood, but there, I know that time I saw something.
By the time I was up and standing the figure was gone, and again I saw the light of the nearest city. I need to get there, my body is in pain from lack of food and water. Anger alone drives me to a jogging pace.
I can see the effects of lack of food and water through my eyes, blurs to my vision and colored lights dancing on my eyes, then the feeling of falling, the ground, then darkness.
The feeling of time for me was odd, the next thing I experienced felt as it it happened immediately as I hit the ground.
I found myself standing there, in the desert in front of me was the robed figure I though I saw through the day. It was standing there, staring at me. I was wearing nothing but the boots, head wrap, and remnants of my pants, but my new dagger was in my hand.
I reached out with my mind, then the impulse came, he was about to attack.
ZZZOT the sound of a light saber coming to life as he ran towards me, bringing the blade up, then down at me. With only instinct I tried to block with the only thing I had, the dagger. The red light grew to blinding intensity as it came swinging towards me.
The blade contacted my dagger, there was the push of the force against it, then darkness. The saber had been turned off. I could sense the hesitation in my opponent, and I knew this was my time. I thrust the dagger into his mid section. This would surely kill him.
To my shock and horror I now found myself holding my own gut, my dagger bloody on the ground in front of me. I screamed in pain, and fell over. Losing consciousness I could see several silhouettes approaching me. I could not respond, My eyes closed as I went limp.
The next thing I remembered was waking up as a House Acclivis Draco guard unit ran to me, weapons drawn demanding I tell them how I breached the perimeter. I was wearing a tattered black robe, tunic, pants, and soft shoes. My wound was dressed, and it did hurt, but not as bad as I figured it ought to.
I offered no resistance, but told them who I was, what I was doing outside of the city, and that I have no explanation of how I got where I was at that time. It was not hard to do really, as it was generally the truth. I certainly left out any talk of visions, tattoos, daggers, or any such things that could arouse a curiosity to ask questions that I myself wanted to know the answers to.
As for revenge for putting me through this trial, I would push that to the back of my mind, as I had some answers and more questions discovered by this episode. Perhaps this was what I needed. I felt tired and hungry, so my foremost thought was to eat, then see if I could manage some sleep before the next bothersome hoop my now masters wish me to jump through is prepared. They will serve my needs it seems, their tests will help me pry free this knowledge from my own head as well as from any source I can manage.
What was that dagger? Who was the robed figure? Who brought me to the city, dressed me and my wound? Did they take my dagger? What were those chants, that text, the connection between my tattoos and the daggers writings? These questions haunted my next nights sleep, as well I suspected they would still for a long time.