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I awoke to darkness and the Voice. The Voice urged me to get up and follow. I achieved this with much stiffness and groaning. My steps were awkward and I trembled violently as I walked. The earth pressed against my skin lulling me asleep as I went. It is in my nature to be still. The Voice woke me again and became more commanding. I walked faster.

The darkness was thinning and when it fell away completely with my last step I could not bear it. I screamed, silently for I had not yet been given speech, but I felt the core of me groan beneath my hands and knees where I collapsed. I and it had never before been separated. I felt the cold air and I shivered uncontrollably. 

These things were foreign to me. I had no names for them. Light, cold, movement. I was not made for such eccentricities. I dug my hands into the dirt beneath me and my mind cried out to the Voice. I begged it to let me slumber.

The Voice refused. It brought me to my feet, so far above my resting bed, and spoke fire. I welcomed it, fire I knew. It flowed past my resting place on its way to my brothers where they slept beneath the hot springs of Elki and Nora. A coal touched my lips and loosened my tongue.

I cried out for understanding and the Voice told me to seek out the Temple because he was going to do a new thing. I asked if my siblings had been awakened as well, but was told I was alone. The Voice told me that the work was not yet so great that we all must be brought from our slumber, that one may yet do the task and that I was the most suited to solitude. I understood his meaning for though we are greater in strength together, my brothers and I, I am the strongest. I am first born. They were born in the chaos of my aftermath; easier because I had forged the way up with my own body.

The Voice led me to the edge of the mountain and planted my feet on a path. He told me if I followed it faithfully it would take me to the Temple. I felt the Voice breathe on me one last time and I was given everything for my journey. Then he was gone. I stood for a time marveling at the feeling of being outside of myself before  I began my descent into the Valley. 

I shook my head in wonder as I went. It may be that the task at hand did not yet need my kind in numbers, but how great must chaos and shadow lie over the lands that a mountain must be awakened to worship the Voice in the temples? How many of the little men who were formed from the dirt that lay across the feet of my bed must have fallen away that no one listens? No one raises their eyes to the mountain tops and wonders “What will come if I abandon the Temple?”

Wonder no more, little men of dust. I come and my hand is stone. My worshiping in the Temple will be a labor upon you because you forgot to listen for the Voice. I am the great mountain of Telger and I will crush the unfaithful beneath my feet.


One Comment

  1. Okay, that was AMAZING.

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