The World Cries

Morden did not eat that night and chose to lay in bed. The villagers were experts at woodwork and herbal remedies, so using their knowledge and expertise, they made the best possible setting for Morden to relax and clear his head in. The room smelled of fresh pine and another sweet unusual aroma. Using an herbal remedy, the elves made a potent medicine that helps calm the mind and was often used in meditation. A mixture of muscle relaxants as well as a mixture of herbs to help a person fall asleep. Despite all these things coming together, Morden was still unable to fall asleep.

The voices were so penetratingly loud it was hard to think. Morden grabbed his head and just focused on them. Maybe trying to understand them would make them stop. 'Is there a way to talk to them? I don't know how to handle this.' Listening to them, Morden was noticing patterns in the speech. They were clearly speaking a language but it was unknown to him and did not even sound like it was from this world. It did not even sound like the known races to some extent, as though something was trying to mimic the voices of this world. All he knew was that they were somehow related to the angel tomb he found and that they maybe had some relation to what was happening around him. From whispers when everything is calm in his mind to screams when it wasn't, Morden had no idea what to think of them.

He decided to think on some happy memories to see if his assumption was correct. He remembered the time when Broffe ate an entire pie that Karaia baked while she stepped away. Karaia had baked it after finishing a particularly difficult hunt and was planning on rewarding herself and everyone, but Broffe was the only one who enjoyed the victory pie. Morden watched her chase Broffe all throughout the colony until he managed to barely evade her in some woods. He didn't come home for two whole days and Morden had to listen to her say how she would rip his head off the entire time. Luckily for everyone, no heads were torn off and Broffe came back with a pie he bought at a nearby village to make up for his mistake. It wasn't as fresh as the other pie, but they all enjoyed a happy dinner that day.

Morden noticed that the voices were all calming down and started to speak more softly, and some sounded like they were mourning. Now rather than screaming. It looked like the voices were tied to him somehow but he wasn't sure how, or more importantly, why. The entire night, Morden couldn't fall asleep and thought on his memories with everyone, good and bad. At this point, they all seemed like happy memories regardless of how they began or ended. At least he could make memories with his colony, his family, his friends. That night was the loneliest night of them all. He had no family or friends and was now sleeping amongst strangers.

-

The sun broke through the trees letting a beautiful orange glow throughout the village. The villagers started their days with cheerful chatter. Smoke bellowed out the chimneys as food was being baked. On the second floor of the home, Morden dressed himself with a white tunic and some pants that the elven villagers had given him. Morden headed to the dining hall of the house. As he walked out into the hall and down the stairs, Morden heard light chatter in the dining room. He turned the corner and saw Dashra, Cauwen, and Grenda at the table enjoying some breakfast and having a discussion.

"Good morning everyone," Morden said. "Thank you for the clothes and bed. It means a lot to me." He sat down at the table and Cauwen brought him a plate of food, hot and fresh. The members at the table all saw how drained Morden looked. Grenda spoke up first and asked, "Did you get any sleep last night? You look like you haven't slept in a week."

"No," Morden replied, "I can't sleep. Too much on my mind." He ate some of the food on his plate and asked Dashra, "So did you find any suspects? Anyone who might have done this?"

Dashra leaned over the table and put his hands together. He was hesitant to speak, but spoke up, saying, "I don't want to make baseless speculations, but we can't think of anything else. We discussed it with the villagers while you rested." He stood up and started to pace around slowly. "Have you ever heard of the legends of the old ones?"

"Vaguely," Morden replied. "Something to do with the return of the superior races. I never studied rumors, just how to kill the things that weren't rumors."

Dashra continued pacing as he spoke. "The tale is quite well preserved around here. This land used to be a strategic sight in the Great War. Many special weapons were tested here, including races lost during the war itself. One of those races were known as ogres." At the mention of that word, the voices in his head suddenly stopped, as if they were told to be silent. The next second they started up again.

Dashra continued, "They rivaled the demons in size and strength, but were kept in check due to their lack of intelligence, but that's not to say they are not clever. They were a race designed specifically to fight the angels. They were few in number but were unaffected by the angels' powers. They started to wreck havoc wherever they went until Aurora stepped in and sealed them all. After Aurora sealed herself with Gorgon and left this world, everyone believed that before the greater races return, the heralds of their return would arrive first. For the demon's it's the ogres, and for the angels it was the dryads. I fear that the ogres may have returned and done this to your people."

Morden heard the voices start turning into almost an inhuman growl every time the word 'ogre' was said. He stopped eating and sat back in his chair, looked Dashra in the eyes and said, "So your telling me that a legend, essentially a myth, killed my people? I hope you have some evidence to back up your claim." Everyone at the table heard the annoyance in his tone. They all felt a shiver run down their spine. The last thing anyone wanted to do was anger the one thing that could wipe out half a village before they could even respond.

Dashra quickly responded, "Of course, we wouldn't make a foolish claim. I was alive about a hundred years after the great war and my father who fought in the war told me of the fights that the angels had against the ogres." Those words shocked Morden. He knew that the elf was old, but he looked no older than in his fifties. 'I guess that's the advantage that the angels gave the elves. Wish I could live that long.'

Dashra continued, "One, all the Dismantlers were found in the middle of the colony and most had the majority of their runes on them. Why not use the runes in a life or death fight unless they quickly realized they weren't effective. My father told me how the angels simply used self enhancing runes and not offensive runes to fight with, much how I believe your people did. Two, the fact that all of your people died while not a single body was left from the enemy. I don't care how powerful a foe is, the only was you can cause that much chaos, loot nothing, and leave just as fast shows that this was personal. Whoever did this was for revenge or as an order and left when their job was done." At that moment Dashra's voice became slow and deliberate. He said with distinction, "The biggest piece of evidence is what you told me about the bodies, how many of them were eaten. The one thing that was not passed down in books about the ogres was their insatiable appetite. Whenever one received an injury, their eyes flared red and they became more aggressive. They would grow in size and strength and become ravaging beasts, wanting to eat anything nearby, and usually that is their opponent. The worst part is that when they eat their opponent, it heals their injuries. Essentially, ogres can fight endlessly and become more powerful as they fight. It's what made them such terrifying enemies."

Morden thought for a moment and tried to clear his head. The voices seemed to respond that way anytime the word 'ogre' was mentioned. Perhaps these weren't just accusations or a stretch. Morden stood up and walked towards the door. "Dashra, please walk with me. I want to speak with you about something. Maybe you might be able to answer some of my questions." Dashra stood up as well and walked over to the Morden. Morden thanked everyone for the meal and for the bed, then the two strolled outside towards the outskirts of the city. "It's a beautiful village," Morden said. "Cherish it. I know you are much older than me and know how fleeting some things can be, but even the things you don't think can leave, can..."

Dashra shoved Morden lightly and said, "At least try not to make me sound like I'm older than these trees!" He laughed heartily. Morden chuckled and they carried on their conversation all the way to the outside of the city. They passed many faces along the way, all of them giving condolences and offering hospitality to Morden. He was surprised by the courtesy of these strangers to him so he asked Dashra why every single person was like this.

"We have very few visitors around these parts," replied Dashra. "We know how harsh this world can be so we try to be the oasis in the desert, figuratively speaking, to anyone who might need help. But to someone like you who helped us in, we can just turn a blind eye. You are our hero, and in being so, are our family. We take care of family." Morden could feel his heart tugging at him at the words family. The voices as always seemed to go along with how he felt, some sobbing, some screaming. A good thing the voices brought to Morden was some clarity to his emotions. A mixture of sadness and fury were welling up inside of him.

As they walked past the outside of the village, Morden spoke up and said, "I have a question for you, leader Dashra. I do not wish to say this as it makes me sound crazy, but what do you know hearing voices in your head?" Dashra spoke as if he had talked about this many times saying, "Well it depends. When did you start hearing them and what are they saying?"

Morden hesitated to respond. 'I don't want to tell just anyone about the statues and book. If they know what it is they might try to exploit it, and in the state I am now, I can't be sure I'm not being moved by the nose without knowing about it.' "It started after I saw all the bodies. I can't understand them. They're saying something but I can't make it out. They're clear as day but speaking a language I don't know."

A curious yet confused look showed up on Dashra's face as he asked, "You don't know what they're saying? I've heard small tales of this from my father but it was only related to angels. But considering you did witness something absolutely traumatizing, I believe it could be that your mind broke. If you have any other details maybe I could see if anyone else knows. We are only here to help."

Morden shook his head and said, "No it's okay. I just wanted to know if there was any sense to it. Maybe something did break inside my head. I'll just wait to see if it stops or gets better. If not, I can find a skilled magical healer and pay them to fix me. Something tells me some herbal tea won't be quite enough." Dashra let out a small chuckle. "You know that's the first time I heard you say a joke since I last saw you at our village." Morden thought on those words. He used to joke a lot. Maybe things won't be the same anymore.