Author: Chica
Format: Online Novel
Rating: not yet rated
He approached the door slowly and cautiously, as he had done throughout his journey. His eyes darted in every direction, checking every shadow and flicker of light among the gloom of the surrounding forest, as if he expected one to leap out at him. He paused before the door and nervously glanced backwards at the path behind him. He had never dreamed of the danger he had come to already, and if the tales were true, then that was only a small taste of the danger he would find waiting for him behind the door. His gaze returned to the door standing before him and the wall that it was placed in.
The wall was built here long ago and the forest had covered much of it, but this door stood at the end of the only path through the dark forest to not be overrun by the ravenous growth of the forest. How it had been spared was a mystery to him, but he did not care now. He had reached the door and that�s all that mattered. He nervously raised a fist to knock on the door. He stopped.
Some new feeling entered his mind. His greed was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of awe. The door had been there long enough to enter legend and none now lived who were able to prove that it did in fact exist. And now here he stood, his fist held in front of him, his eyes darting nervously about, and he couldn't do it. He simply had to knock on the door and the legend would unfold before his eyes, but he could not bring himself to touch the thing. It seemed like walking through an untouched glade on a cold winter day and ruining the beauty that stood in the plane of pure whiteness. The door had stood untouched for longer than the races that now stood upon this planet, and he was about to be the first in an age to unfold the truth behind the legend. He was about to gain the power behind the door. He, a poor, miserable grave robber, was about to uncover something more ancient than he could even imagine.
His fist dropped to his side and he began to turn away, when suddenly he heard a sound. He froze, every muscle in his body tensed, ready to run. Adrenaline pumped through his system and his heartbeat sounded louder than a banshee's call.
Again the sound. It came from...the door. The sound was the sound of the ancient lock removing its grip from the door and the door creaking upon ancient hinges to open enough for the faint light of the sun through the treetops to creep through the opening and shed the first light since the time of its creation into a room containing immortal power.
He immediately jumped to the door and wedged his booted foot in the crack to insure the door did not close. He cautiously and lightly shoved at the large wooden door and it swung wide open revealing all inside.
The faint light from the sun perfectly illuminated the small room and he was thankful, for he had left his torches when he had run from the attack further down the path. There was a large wooden table in the center of the room and a wooden chair pulled out on the opposite side of the table, as if inviting him to sit. On the table was a large, black leather-bound tome. Hidden in the cover was the book's title written in black ink, barely visible despite the mysterious illumination of the room. The title was in no language he recognized. It read "Mori selu ed'il'tura".
"Damn elves. Can�t even teach me a few words of their goddamn language. 'It holds too much power for a human tongue' they said. 'You would die if you were to speak it' they said. Those stupid sons of bitches will regret not teaching me when I get this power." He said as he walked to the table and pulled the book over to him. A strange sensation passed through his hand as he touched the book and it was surprisingly light to pull across the table. He pulled back the cover and flipped to a page near the back of the book. The pages turned like it was a new book despite it being ancient beyond history. Something caught his eye as he was flipping through and he found himself looking at a page written in the common tongue. The print was large, so any reader short of blindness could identify the words on the page. The page read:
Beware to the speaker of this sad tale
Roet, the hub, earth, wind, water, and fire, the spokes, thus a wheel is made.
The wheel turns until the rider calls for a halt.
The rider must know how to speak to his horses.
The rider is a good man.
All men must dance with the grim reaper.
When he finished the page, he started, for the ground shook and the earth rumbled beneath his feet. He started for the door, but stopped himself to return for the book. When he lifted it off the table, the door slammed shut, banishing all light from the room, and a large shake threw him to the stone floor, sending the book flying and launching him into the unconscious world of his mind.
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