Temple of Rataramundi |
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The trees seem to grower closer here, more oppressive, a deep dank darkness that casts the path into obscurity. You do not feel too happy about walking this way, for the very air seems heavy with oppression, depression so thick that it is like a mist. It is almost as though something before you is so filled with angst that it has leaked into the very air.
Suddenly the path opens up into what may once have been a clearing, but it is a clearing no more, for it is choked with weeds and thorn bushes. A rosebush in front of you, growing against the wall of a tumbledown building, bears a single, ebony rose. The building itself appears to have seen better days. Its stonework has all but crumbled to dust in some places, all that seems to be holding it together is the dark ivy, with its blood-red, poisonous berries. The archway set in the stone is still holding up, although the door has definately passed its use by date, and all that remains is a few rotten boards. It is from this temple that the aura of misery seems to be exuding.
Curiousity overcomes fear, and you enter the dank depths. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can make
out pictograms scrawled all along the wall. A wingless bird here, a snake, a tower and a tree, just images, that mean
nothing to you. One image that does occur frequently though is that of a very badly drawn cobra with a human head. Droplets of water trickle down the walls,
which are also partly coated in thick black fungi that hides many of the pictograms from you. You have no chance of understanding it.
The air is heavy with the smell of mildew, which you see is exuded by the tattered remnants of what once might have been fine tapestries. Downwards, the corridor slopes, and downwards you follow it.
After walking through the darkness for some time (good thing you thought to bring a lantern!), you find yourself facing an alcove. Golden eyes reflect in your lantern light, golden eyes, white teeth. You stare at what appears to have been a drunk artists impression of a snake headed man. The eyes are serpentine, as are the teeth and tongue, set it a face that resembles an old and rather unpleasant looking man. Its hair is composed of tiny snakes, intricately carved so as to seem almost alive. At about waist level, the body of the coiled serpent began, every scale carved in great detail.
"Pretty isn't he? The God of the flesh-eaters." Comes a voice from behind you, causing you to jump in alarm and barely hold back the choking scream of fear.
"Who are you?" You manage to stutter, after regaining your composure. You turn around and find yourself eye to eye with a man who looks to be
in his mid to late thirties. His black hair is streaked with silvery-white and he stares at you will eyes too emerald to be real. It is then that you notice that he also
has wings.
"Who am I, you ask? Surely that is my previlege, for this is my temple, my home, that you intrude upon. Yet, I shall reward your questions with an answer regardless." He stares at you his green eyes seem to
bore into your very soul. He then turns and wanders around you.
You find yourself almost unable to talk.
"I ahave been known by many names, some which I would certainly not care to mention here. Murderer, Dark Angel, Fakaki. Yet, my name, my real name,
is Corvid Martenez. Once I was like you, young, with a heart full of adventure and light, joy and promise. But now I am just as you see me now. Alone.
Living in an exile where not even the birds feel sympathy."
"I'm sorry," you stutter, not knowing what else to say.
"Don't be," he snaps at you, whirling around so that those unnatural eyes meet yours once more.
"I don't want your sympathy, I don't want your help. I have never wanted anything from anyone, except what
was mine by rights. Not that anyone would ever believe that. My own father called me insane! My father, can you believe that? He
who had less sanity than a dandelion in the wind. Called me insane." He seems to wish to continue his rambling forever, much to your distress.
He does appear to be unarmed, but you're not too sure and, quite frankly, don't want to stay around to find out.
"I think I should be on my way now," you babble nervously.
The creature called Corvid heaves a great sigh. "Of course you do, nobody wants to hang around old Fakaki for long. Fine, begone with you, and
may you have better luck in life and love then I did."
You hurry down the corridor, expecting every second to feel a knife in you back. When you are halfway down, he shouts after you.
"I never killed noone you hear, they did it to themselves, why won't anyone believe me? Why won't anyone believe me?"
And then the welcome embrace of sunlight greets you once more.
Now that you have escaped, would you like to hurry:
West or East
