#commander olo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thetamrieliclibrary · 4 years ago

Text

Pocket Guide to the Empire, First Edition: Cyrodiil

Cyrodilic history truly begins by the middle of the Alessian Reformation (see sidebar, Alessian Order), when civilisation and cultivation had allowed the region to emerge as a discernible Tamrielic power. Its culture and military strength centred in the sacred Nibenay Valley, a grassland expanse with a vast lake at its heart. Several small islands rose from this lake, and the capital city sprawled across them, crisscrossed with bridges and gondola ferries. Rivers connected the city-state to both its profitable outlying territories and the friendly inland ports of Skyrim and Pelletine. Rice and textiles were its main exports, along with more esoteric treasure-goods, such as hide armour, Moon sugar, and ancestor-silk. The sheer size of Cyrodiil's physical theatre, and frequent intervals of Elven tyranny, made its unification as a while a slow and oft-interrupted process. At the height of Alessian influence, its western arm enjoyed a brief autonomy as the Colovian Estates, a demarcation that still colours an outsider's view of the Empire today; often, Cyrodiil has two faces, East and West, and any discussion of its later social history must first be tempered with a summary of this early divergence.

Traditionally, the East is regarded as the region's soul: magnanimous, tolerant, and administrative. It was in the rain forests of the Nibenay Valley that the original Cyro-Nordic tribes, the Nibenese, learned a self-reliance that separated them culturally and economically from Skyrim. The Elven harassment of the First Empire gave rise to an elite form of support troop for the Valley armies, the battlemage.[1] By the time the Alessian Doctrines filtered down from the north along the river trade ways, these mages had become the ruling aristocracy. They were quickly superseded by the Alessian priesthood, whose inexplicably charismatic religion found purchase in the lower classes. The traditional Nordic pantheon of Eight Divines was replaced by a baroque of veneration of ancestor spirits and god-animals, practices encouraged by the mutable-yet-monotheistic doctrines of the Alessian faith. The doctrines eventually codified nearly every aspect of Eastern culture. Restrictions against certain kings of meat-eating, coupled with the sentiments of the blossoming animal cults, soon made agriculture and husbandry nearly impossible. Thus, many of the Eastern Cyrodiils were forced to become merchants, which, over time, allowed the Nibenay Valley to become the wealthiest city-state in the region. Yet, under Alessian rule, no matter how rich or powerful the merchant class became it was still a tenanted citizenry, and the tithes they were forced to pay the priesthood were constant reminders of the state's true masters.

The West is respected as Cyrodiil's iron hand: firm, unwavering, and ever-vigilant. The Cyro-Nords that settled it had relinquished the fertile Nibenay Valley long ago, determined to conquer the frontier. Their primitive ferocity was disinclined to magic or the need for industry, preferring bloody engagement and plunder instead. After they had captured the Nedic port-cities of the Strident coast, the Westerners embarked on a mastery of the sea. Their earliest voyages took them as far as the Iliac Bay and the Cape of the Blue Divide, whose ports they annually raided until the (then) superior Yokudan navies arrived, ca. 1E819. By the time of the Alessian Reformation, the Westerners were firmly in a position, both geographically and socially, to resist its doctrines. Hammerfell, its northern border state, was now protected by its own holy-avenging order, the Ra Gada, whose bloody intolerance for foreigners acted as West Cyrodiil's buffer against the Alessian priesthood. The pantheon of Eight Divines, therefore, survived unchecked in Western Cyrodiil, and relations with the increasingly Alessian East became strained. Ultimately, the West isolated itself from the theocratic hegemony of the Nibenay Valley, establishing an autonomous government, the Colovian Estates.

Things persisted in this vein until the Thrassian Plague of 1E2200 (see free Region - Thras), which decimated more than half of Tamriel's population, particularly the western coastlands closest to Thras. After Bendu Olo, the Colovian king of Anvil, led the All Flags Navy to victory over the slugfolk of Thras, the glory of the Cyrodilic people became known throughout the world. The Colovian Estates began to overshadow the richer, more populous East then, which eventually lead to the War of Righteousness that ended Alessian rule. Control of the Nibenay Valley reverted to a mercantile-magocracy that was still far too arcane for Western tastes to entertain a reunification of Cyrodiil. Four hundred years would pass before that would happen, when Reman I, another proud son of the West, rallied the Valley's army to join his own and fight the Akaviri Invasion of 1E2703. The Cyrodilic forces engaged the Akaviri in every region of the north, eliciting their surrender at last in the Pale Pass of Skyrim. By war's end, the Cyrodiils found themselves not only united as a nation, but, too, responsible for the further protection of the northern human kingdoms at large. When the Elves of the Summerset Isles took umbrage at what they perceived as a renewed human imperialism, Reman was forced to prove them right. In order to prevent the Elves from attacking[2] the already weakened northern kingdoms, he offered the captive Akaviri Horde amnesty in his future dominions if they would serve as the nucleus of the Army of the Second Empire of Men. Reman's own dynasty lasted for two hundred years, and in that span it conquered all the kingdoms of Tamriel except for Morrowind. Indeed, the Dark Elven Morag Tong were the doom of Reman's heirs, and the death of last true Cyrodilic Emperor heralded the beginning of the Common Era.

The Cyrodilic Empire endured for another four hundred years under the auspices of the Akaviri Potentate (see sidebar, The Second Empire), fell, and suffered a similar span of years in the insurrections, misrules, and loss of power known as the Interregnum. Yet, the remnants of the Cyrodilic Empire refuse to die, even though East and West had become fragmented beyond measure. A petty king of the Colovian Estates, Cuhlecain, came to power and appointed an Atmoran as General of his legions. General Talos had studied in Skyrim, and used the thu'um. He could rout armies with his battle-cry and shout lesser men off their feet. A year later more than half of the Cyrodilic Empire was reclaimed or consolidated, and Cuhlecain saw fit to move into the Nibenay Valley, capture the capital city, and proclaim himself Emperor. By this point, High Rock and Skyrim, which bitterly opposed a return to Cyrodilic rule, gathered their armies for a joint invasion of the Colovian West. Talos met them on the field of Sancre Tor. The Nords that had come to cripple the Empire soon joined the General's forces, for when they heard his thu'um they realised he was Skyrim's son and the Heir to the Empires of Men. The Bretons were sent back to High Rock with tales of Cuhlecain's new General, where they decided to combat the Emperor's sorcery with their own. In CE854, a nightblade from the Western Reach made his way to the Imperial Palace at Nibenay. There, the Witchman assassinated the emperor, caught the Palace on fire, and slit the throat of General Talos. "But from the smouldering ruin he came, one hand to his neck and with Cuhlecain's Crown in the other. The legions wept at the sight. His Northern magic had saved him, but the voice that led them would be more silent from that night on. His word could no longer rout an army with a roar, but he could still command one with a whisper. He took for himself a Cyrodilic name, Tiber Septim[3], and the Nordic Name of Kings, Ysmir, the Dragon of the North. And with those names he took, too, the Red Diamond Crown of the Cyrodiils, and became their True Emperor." Thus was born the Third Empire of Men.

Cyrodiil in the Third Empire is the young, viral embodiment of its ancient heritage. Internally, it has undergone an incredible restoration--reconstruction of the ruined sections of the Imperial City is nearly complete, roads and cities destroyed in the Interregnum have been rebuilt, East and West are unified for the first time in four centuries. Cyrodiil's present stability and strength have not been seen since the Reman Dynasty; indeed, they were born under similar circumstances--a Westerner winning the Eastern throne, forging them both into the greatest power in Tamriel. And now, in but twenty years time, Tiber Septim has secured Imperial authority in High Rock, Skyrim, and Hammerfell. Every human region stands with him against the Elven menace.[4] The Emperor has gracefully attributed his success to his peoples, the Colovians and the Nibenese, whose cultures we shall now treat in their current incarnation.

The Colovians[5] today still possess much of the frontier spirit of their ancestors. They are uncomplicated, self-sufficient, hearty, and extremely loyal to one another. Whenever the East would tremble under the weakness of a leader, the Colovians would withdraw unto themselves, always believing they were keeping the national spirit sage until the storm passed. They realise that the Nibenay Valley is the heart of the Empire and the cultural centre of its civilisation, but it is a fragile centre that can only be held together by the strength of character of its Emperor. When he falters, so do the Colovians. Yet when he is mighty, like Tiber Septim, they are his legions. Today, West Cyrodiils make up the majority of the soldiers in the Ruby Ranks. The Colovian nobility, all officers of the Imperial Legions or its West Navy, do not allow themselves the great expenditure of courtly life as is seen in the capital city. They prefer immaculate uniforms and stark standards hanging from the ceiling of their austere cliff-fortresses; to this day, they become a little perplexed[6] when they must visit the grandly decorated assault of colour that is the Emperor's Palace.

[TRAVELER: "Colovian officers have traditionally been appointed as provincial governors to the human regions of the Empire, as these often need the most forthright of the Emperor's men."]

By contrast, the Eastern people of Cyrodiil relish in garish costumes, bizarre tapestries, tattoos, brandings, and elaborate ceremony. Closer to the wellspring of civilisation, they are more given to philosophy and the evolution of ancient traditions. The Nibenese find the numinous in everything around them, and their different cults are too numerous to mention (the most famous are the Cult of the Ancestor-Moth, the Cult of Heroes, the Cult of Tiber Septim, and the Cult of Emperor Zero). To the Colovians, the ancestor worship and esoteric customs of the East can often be bizarre. Akaviri dragon-motifs are found in all quarters, from the high minaret bridges of the Imperial City to the paper hako skiffs that villagers use to wing their dead down the rivers. Thousands of workers ply the rice fields after the floodings, or clear the foliage of the surrounding jungle in the alternate seasons. Above them are the merchant-nobility, the temple priests and cult leaders, and the age-old aristocracy of the battlemages. The Emperor watches over them all from the towers of the Imperial City, as dragons circle overhead.

Alessian Order

This monotheistic religion was once very popular, but today only remnants of its faith remain. It started in the coastal jungle of what is now the Colovian west, where a prophet named Marukh, who had spoken to the "Enlightened One," Saint Alessia, began to question the validity of Elven rule. These sentiments led to an increasingly abstract and unknowable depiction of a Single God. The Alessians were wise enough to realise that they had to incorporate the ancient polytheistic elements into their new religion for it to find a wide acceptance. The divine aspects worshipped by the various humans and Aldmeri were recognisable in the guise of the myriad saints and spirits of the evolving Alessian canon. It wasn't long before the Order was the Authority on every religion in Tamriel, and their power grew to earthshaking proportions. Nearly a third of the First Era passed under their theocratic rule. When its priesthood had become too widespread to support itself, the Order began to fight among itself. With the severance of the territories of West Cyrodiil from the Empire, too much money and land had been lost. The War of Righteousness broke out, and the Order which had almost ruled the world undid itself in a ten year span.

The Second Empire

The Second Empire is divided into two stages: the Reman Dynasty and the Akaviri Potentate. As mentioned in the text, after the Akaviri raiders had been defeated, Reman recruited many of them into his service. Later Cyrodiils traditionally kept a House Guard of Akaviri, and the Emperor's chief advisor, the Potentate, was usually of Akaviri descent. Other Akaviri slaves played a significant part in establishing the administrative structures of the Second Empire, as well as in the training of its military. The restructured Imperial legions, which learned an unparalleled measure of coherence, logistics, and discipline from the Akaviri, began to easily overwhelm the other regional armies; soon every region in Tamriel belonged to Cyrodiil except for Morrowind. After the assassination of Reman's last heir by the Dark Elven Morag Tong during the disastrous Four Score War, control of the Empire reverted to the Akaviri Potentate. They have left a visible mark on the Empire of today. The high crafts of daikatanas and dragonscale armour came from the Akavir, as did the banners and military dress of Septim's shock troops, the Blades. The Red Dragons that have come to represent the Empire and the Imperial City were originally Akaviri war mounts. Akaviri surnames are rare and prized possessions among the Cyrodilic citizenry of today, and there are trace facial features of the Akaviri in many distinguished Cyrodilic families. Some colonies of "true Akaviri" still exist in both the Empire and its border regions, but they are named so only for their practices and customs than for the purity of their blood.

The Song of Tiber Septim[7]

From the Odes:

"He was born in Atmora as Talos, 'Stormcrown' in the language of the ancient Elhnofey, and it was from that shore he sailed. He spent his youth in Skyrim among the Nords. There he learned much from the Tongues and their chieftains and their ways of war. At twenty he led the invasion of Old Hrol'dan, taking it back from the Witchmen of High Rock and their kinsmen.

"Soon the Greybeards made known that they were restless. Already the storms had begun from their murmurs. The Greybeards were going to Speak. The surrounding villages were abandoned as the people fled the coming blast.

"The villagers warned Talos to turn back, for he was marching to the mountain where the Greybeards dwelt.

"Inside he went, and on seeing him they removed their gags. When they spoke his name the World shook.

"The Tongues of Skyrim told the son of Atmora that he had come to rule Tamriel and that he must travel south to do so.

"And it is true that Talos did come to Cyrodiil shortly after the Battle of Old Hrol'dan.

"And it is true that a great storm preceded his arrival."

The Cult of the Ancestor-Moth

For long the Cyro-Nordics had exported ancestor-silks to other regions, simple yet exotic shawls woven from the silks of an indigenous gypsy moth and inscribed with the requisite genealogy of its buyer. Under the Cult, however, ancestor and moth became synonymous: the singing and hymnal spirits of one's forebears are caught in a special silk-gathering ritual, the resource of which is used to create any manner of vestment or costume. The swishing of this material during normal movement reproduces the resplendent ancestral chorus contained therein--it quickly became a sacred custom among the early Nibenese, which has persisted to the present day. Monks of the higher orders of the Cult of the Ancestor-Moth are able to forego the magical ritual needed to enchant this fabric, and, indeed, prefer instead to wear the moths about the neck and face. They are able to attract the ancestor-moths through the application of finely ground bark-dust gathered from the gypsy moth's favourite tree, and through the sub-vocalisation of certain mantras. They must chant the mantras constantly to maintain skin contact with the ancestor-moths, a discipline that they endure for the sake of some cosmic balance. When a monk interrupts these mantras, in conversation for example, the moths burst from him in glorious fashion every time he speaks, only to light back upon his skin when he resumes the inaudible chant.

The Cult of Emperor Zero

This cult, started by Tiber Septim himself, was established in the honour of Cuhlecain, the Emperor Zero. Though Cuhlecain did not technically recapture all of Cyrodiil's holdings during this time, he is worthy of worship for the wisdom he showed in appointing Talos as his General, and the bravery he showed when retaking the Imperial City, two events that were crucial in restoring the glory of the new Cyrodilic Empire. He is therefore to be remembered in our prayers. The topiary-mages have begun to shape his aspect in the Palace gardens, where in the future Cuhlecain may share his insights with Tiber Septim in the same manner as the rest of the blessed hedgery heads of Green Emperor Road.

Places of Note

Indeed, if the history of the Nords is the history of humans on Tamriel, then Cyrodiil is the throne from which they will decide their destiny. It is the largest region of the continent, and most is endless jungle. Its centre, the grassland of the Nibenay Valley, is enclosed by an equatorial rain forest and broken up by rivers. As one travels south along these rivers, the more subtropical it becomes, until finally the land gives way to the swamps of Argonia and the placid waters of the Topal Bay.

The elevation rises gradually to the west and sharply to the north. Between its western coast and its central valley there are all manners of deciduous forest and mangroves, becoming sparser towards the ocean. The western coast is a wet-dry area, and from Rihad border to Anvil to the northernmost Valenwood villages forest fires are common in summer. There are a few major roads to the west, river paths to the north, and even a canopy tunnel to the Velothi Mountains, but most of Cyrodiil is a river-based society surrounded by jungle.

The Imperial City[8]

Refayj's famous declaration, "There is but one city in the Imperial Province,--" may strike the citizens of the Colovian west as mildly insulting, until perhaps they hear the rest of the remark, which continues, "--but in one city in Tamriel, but one city in the World; that, my brothers, is the city of the Cyrodiils." From the shore it is hard to tell what is city and what is Palace, for it all rises from the islands of the lake towards the sky in a stretch of gold. Whole neighbourhoods rest on the jewelled bridges that connect the islands together. Gondolas and river-ships sail along the watery avenues of its flooded lower dwellings. Moth-priests walk by in a cloud of ancestors; House Guards hold exceptionally long daikatanas crossed at intersections, adorned with ribbons and dragon-flags; and the newly arrived Western legionnaires sweat in the humid air. The river mouth is tainted red from the tinmi soil of the shore, and river dragons rust their hides in its waters. Across the lake the Imperial City continues, merging into the villages of the southern red river and ruins left from the Interregnum.

The Emperor's Palace is a crown of sun rays, surrounded by his magical gardens. One garden path is known as Green Emperor Road--here, topiaries of the heads of past Emperors have been shaped by sorcery and can speak. When one must advise Tiber Septim, birds are drawn to the hedgery head, using their songs as its voice and moving its branches for the needed expressions.

Annotations

Annotations by YR:

"Our old students forget themselves."

"Ha!"

"Even those humans who revile Talos as a traitor, oathbreaker, and scoundrel pay homage to his skill in obtaining his ends without resort to warfare."

"Truly, a doubtful statement."

"An observation: Colovians feel superior to Nibenese as a people, yet, because the East is the Empire's "heart", the Westerners are often neglected in Cyrodiil ~ Even though the throne is taken continually by Kings from the West, the Nibenese quickly assimilate them into their ranks."

"Author oddly sympathetic to the West--a Colovian scribe, perhaps?"

"It is certain that the tale of Talos' conquest of the Cyrodiil through use of his voice is not literally true--that kind of thu'um is now forbidden. This is all obviously a poetic reference, crafted to satisfy the popular human lust for blood and magic. This young myth is perhaps inspired by Talos' reputation for shrewd diplomacy, attested by even his greatest critics, which permitted him to scheme and bargain his way into the capital city--which he lacked the armies or funds to conquer by dint of force."

"Of course no mention of the Aldmeri Citadel the capital city was built upon--or the crimes perpetrated there in the previous era..."

~ Follow for more books, journals, and notes from the Elder Scrolls series ~ Updates daily ~

#tes #the elder scrolls #tes books #the elder scrolls books #cyrodiil #imperial #imperials #tiber septim #talos

2 notes · View notes

hraicene · 6 years ago

Text

Headcannon #30

Time for the Elwire headcannon. This is gonna be long, and I apologize in advance.

Now. Anyone that has been following me long enough, knows I’ve mentioned this guy quite a few times. He’s in other headcannons, he’s even mentioned in Olo’s about, but not actually named there. Elwire and Sar are extremely connected to Olo, so here’s Sar’s headcannon post, as this one definitely ties into it.

Elwire, Olo, and Sar all were born around the same time. Elwire and Sar were born about 2-3 years after Olo. They were born in the second generation of elven children in Halda, while Olo was in the first. I say second and first, but they were actually more along the lines of about 4th or 5th. However, Olo’s parents were original settlers of Halda, while Sar and Elwire’s parents were children of original settlers. This is the reference I’m going off of here.

Olo’s entire generation is missing. Except for Olo. This headcannon here explains it. ( I’m still working on why Olo is the only one, so please forgive me on this one. ) Now, because of this, Olo was held a little bit on a higher pedestal when he was younger. He was the only one remaining from his generation of children, so they assumed that he would become great. Olo was soon pushed by his father to become grand. His father was the captain at the time. One of the captains. Olo’s father basically raised him on swordplay, archery, and martial arts. He held a dagger before he could even walk. He held a bow before he could even talk.

As he was pushed towards this, he became friends with two younger elves, Elwire and Sareärnon. He would often run away from home or duck his training to hang out with them.

When his parents died, they were the ones (with the help of King Luinion) who pulled him from the depths and put him right.

When his father died, his father’s second-in-command became Captain. As King Luinion raised Olo ( headcannon over here ! ), he was once again pushed towards being a warrior, but being “adopted” by King Luinion, he was also taught the ins-and-outs of royalty and courtesy. This is where Olo gets his extreme politeness, and his extreme barriers on hierarchy and how you must act with them.

Elwire and Sar stayed by his side through all of this. He and Elwire got to the point where they were finishing each other’s sentences, reading each other’s minds, and could very easily do absolutely anything for the other without needing to be asked. They became blood-brothers and pact-brothers. They swore on blood that they would both work their way up to become the Captains of Halda, together. They lived together, slept together, ate together. They were inseparable.

When they were both chosen as Captains when the previous ones retired, the three boys celebrated, (and in certain verses) Sar proposed to Olo. Now, depending on the verse, Olo moved out of Elwire’s home and both Sar and Olo moved into the Úlairecundu family home, which had been vacant for years now. OR ! Olo moved into the Úlairecundu family home on his own, and Sar likes to couch-surf. ( This is dependent on Sar’s proposal. If he does, they move in together, if he doesn’t Sar just couch-surfs and is basically a roommate and not a lover. )

Now, things are okay, up until the Alliance war. ( Úlaire headcannon involving the war. ) When Olo comes back home, he’s celebrated as a hero. And everyone still loves him. These hero stories lasted about 100 years before they started to crumble and bad stories started cropping up. Now, the people of Halda took these stories with a gain of salt ........ up until the lightning accident.

Olo nearly dies during this incident. However, Elwire suddenly takes this as the stories being true, the bad ones. He does a 180 and is suddenly against Olo. He believed that Olo must have done something to deserve the wrath of the gods, therefore, the bad stories must have been true.

Olo has no clue why Elwire has done this 180, he still doesn’t. But. Elwire started going about sabotaging Olo. He would mess with his bows to make them break during practice or missions, he would weasel things into the King’s ear about missions needing less time that what should actually be needed, he ruins equipment, armor, and cloaks.

Olo does not tell the King these things, despite Sar’s words. Sar DESPERATELY wants Olo to tell King Rivallion about what the hell Elwire is doing, however, Olo refuses. ( Sar even keeps record, in a book, of absolutely everything Elwire does.) Despite Elwire betraying him, again and again, Olo still holds true to his brotherhood, his pact. He will not stand against Elwire.

And Sar absolutely HATES it.

#❝ ❧ ( ooc . . ) :: 𝒷𝑒𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝑒𝑒𝓈 ❞#❝ ❧ ( headcannons . . ) :: ᴵ ˢʰᵃˡˡ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵒʳ ˢᵉᵃˢᵒⁿ ❞#holy SHIT this is long #it's also kind of a rundown of the timeline #holy geez this took a while to write

5 notes · View notes

imgoldielikehawn · 7 years ago

Text

Of The Woods

Pairing: King Thrandruil x WOC

Rated: G ( For now ;) )

A/N: My very first LOTR/ The Hobbit Fic, Feedback is appreciated. If this is not your style give it a try, if you don't want to be tagged in this any longer feel free to let me know!

The ground was damp from the rains and storms. Even though I was inside I could feel the chill and smell the drenched trees.

There was a lot more to this place than met the average eye, a cursed past if you will. Perpetuated by the chilling reputation of the King of Mirkwood himself. My morning rounds proved to be quite exhausting and so I had felt the need to return to the cabin in the wood rather quickly.

I knew the spiders would return soon whether I wanted it or not. There was hardly time for a meal before I returned to my duties.

Long ago before the time of Smaug and the Battle of the Five Armies I was taken from my home by a young wizard named Gandalf The Grey. You see, it was an oddity for the color of my ethereal skin to resemble the bark of oak trees. Many did not know how to react when a child was created this way, whether it was misplaced humor on the Valars part I did not know.

I did not stay with Gandalf for all time, soon after my arrival I was given to another wizard named Radagast and there is where I leaned to love and watch over nature and all she had to give.

I considered myself a woodland elve even if I had hair as white as winters first snowfall. My eyes were an icy blue color. Some time had passed since I laid eyes on Radagast or Gandalf, after all I was more than one thousand years old and hardly needed supervision.

The ground shook suddenly beneath me, quick on my feet I grabbed my weapons and ran outside to see what had caused the disturbance. There was nothing but the wind as it moved the trees. This was a dark place, once full of beauty and wonder all that was left was doom and the giant spiders who made their home there.

There was a flash of white and green, holding steady I waited for the flash to return. When it did I met its advances with my own sword and the clang of an arrow bouncing off my blade echoed in the usually silent woods.

“Name yourself!” A voice called. It was almost musical and yet deep and commanding.

“I will only do so when you reveal yourself.” I said calmly. I waited a few moments and a soft thud made me turn to my right to see an elve with long white hair standing upright with his bow drawn.

“I am Soliania of the wood and you are?” I asked with my weapon drawn as well.

“I am Legolas Prince of the woodland relax, son of Thranduil and I ask how you came to be here?” He took a confident step towards me. His behavior mimicked a curious animal as it looked upon something new.

“I was brought here long ago.” I said curtly.

“My father will want to know who you are as well and why you are here, come with me willingly and you shall be spared.” He did not say another word as he turned to leave surely expecting me to follow; And so I did swiftly with no complaint. I had a simple undisturbed life here and I had absolutely no desire to die at the hands of some prince.

We walked in silence for hardly more than an hour when we arrived at a beautiful bridge and at the end an enormous set of intricately carved doors. Two guards where posted out front who also looked to be elves though their hair was much darker than Legolas.

Small gasps came from them when I looked into their green eyes but a sharp look from Legolas silenced them quickly.

Once inside a rather large and winding hallway he turned to me. “ Cover yourself with your cloak, now”.

I pulled the large hood over my head and walked with my head down as we continued on amongst several elves and continued until we reached another set of doors. Legolas nodded to the guards and I followed him through the doors. I kept my head down as we walked up onto a raised platform and a man sat even higher in the center of the hall.

“Father.” Legolas bowed slightly. “ I have found an elve in a small cabin in the woods but I have never seen one of her kind before this moment.”

At this I glanced upward to see a winding staircase and at the top was a man seated elegantly in a large throne. I watched as he stood up and walked gracefully down the staircase until he reached the last wooden stair.

He only nodded to Legolas who then turned to me. “ Remove your hood.”

With a simple flourish I dropped my hood and stared forward with poise and pride. A warmth pooled in my belly and even though I was not asked to speak I knew that my voice was lost.

The elve who stood before me was tall with thin legs but he was broad in the chest and shoulders. He wore light silver robes and his hair was long and white. Somehow it never seemed to falter in its perfection, I imagined that even in the worst storm this elves hair would hardly move an inch, if at all. The crown on his head seemed to be made of gnarled branches and red leaves.

His eyes were blue and icy almost like my own but as they passed over me I suddenly felt undressed and vulnerable. I wanted nothing more than to cover myself and retreat back to my cabin in the woods.

“Tul- let nin thir at cin” The elevnking said in a language I could not understand. I tilted my head in curiosity and he gestured for me to come forward with his long ringed fingers.

Tentatively I closed the distance between us and stopped just before him and he reached out for me. I did not flinch, I was absolute intimidated but he need not know.

“You do not speak our language?” He asked reaching forward to grasp a strand of my hair.

“No, forgive me King Thranduil.” I lowered my eyes.

“What is your name?” He asked but it felt like a demand.

“Soliania.” I answered for a second time that day.

“Tolo ar nin, Av-’osto” He said. I watched him wave away Legolas. Thrandruil turned from me and followed Legolas out of the throne room while I quietly followed behind filled with fear and curiosity.

KEY:

* Italicized sentences between two elves means it was spoken in Sindarin.

*Sindarin:Sindarin is a fictional language devised by J. R. R. Tolkien for use in his fantasy stories set in Arda, primarily in Middle-earth. Sindarin is one of the many languages spoken by the immortal Elves, called the Eledhrim or Edhellim in Sindarin.

Translation in order of usage:

Tul- let nin thir at cin - Come let me look at you.

Tolo ar nin, Av-’osto- Come with me, don't be afraid.

Valar- They are "angelic powers" or "gods" subordinate to the one God.

Gandalf The Grey: He is a wizard, member of the Istari order, as well as leader of the Fellowship of the Ring and the army of the West.

Radagast The Brown: one of the Istari, also known as "Wizards", who were sent by the angelic Valar to aid the Elves and Men

Thranduil: King of the Elves of the Wood, King of the Woodland Realm

Legolas: a Sindarin Elf of the Woodland Realm and one of nine members of the Fellowship of the Ring

Tags: @sparklemichele @readsalot73 @laketaj24 @kenzieam @oddsnendsfanfics @titty-teetee @lupy22 @irishhiggins @getinmelanin011 @captstefanbrandt @harleycativy @letsshamelessqueen-m @oneday-i-will-fight-luke17 @jdroman5432 @samwinchxtr @vikingsmania @beltzboys2015-blog @beltz2016 @rls905 @2loveeverything2 @pathybo @asadmelon @yessscolbybrock @btswings4ever @amour-quinn @funmadnessandbadassvikings @daughterofthenight117 @gxldyjess @courtrae89 @vanilla0826 @therealcalicali @fanfictionrecommendations-com @topbringvikings @ultramegavoid @we-hermits-united @ktjnn @wocreblogpage @latishiante1001 @pananegra @me-im-awesome

@mother-of-dragons-dany @mialyla @headsconphiveperamivo @neverleturheartshow2 @severepartypizzaskeleton @bluesandbooks @arrantsnowdrop @captain-grump @dutchessnibenhu-ofpyromania @earthsmightiestasses @damiminator

#thranduil #legolas #the hobbit #fanfiction #iamgoldie #follow me #mirkwood #dark elves #woc #fantasy #JRR Tolkien #woman of color fanfiction

77 notes · View notes

bisiji3 · 3 years ago

Text

Buddhism is communist, democratic.

Buddhism

Master Chin Kung：

“ Therefore, all of you should observe carefully. Then you will truly understand that “Buddhism is communist, democratic.” You see, he is not dictating anything to any one person. He has to do ordination. Ordination is a meeting. To ask for everyone's consent. “A white ordination” for small things. Announce it to everyone. Everyone agrees to it. Consent means not talking. Agree when you don't object. You disagree when you speak. Then it passed. You can do what you want. The major thing that “White four ordination”. You have to say it four times. Let you think about it carefully. After the four ordinations, everyone has nothing to say. It is passed, democracy.”

Islam

THE ROOTS OF DEMOCRACY IN ISLAM

Summary of Remarks by Dr. Ahmed Subhy Mansour

December 16, 2002

On December 16, 2002, Reagan-Fascell Democracy Fellow Dr. Ahmed Subhy Mansour gave a public presentation at the National Endowment for Democracy on the "The Roots of Democracy in Islam." Speaking before an American audience for the first time, Dr. Mansour traced the sources of democratic thought in Islamic theology and discussed his ideas of how Islam's democratic potential may be realized in the modern Muslim world.

According to Dr. Mansour, peaceful interaction with other human beings lies at the heart of Islam. The values of peace, human rights, freedom of speech and belief, justice, equality, and democracy are all laid down in the Quran and should thus provide the foundations for any society that claims to be Islamic. The Quran invokes five rights to which everyone is entitled: the right to justice, the right to freedom of belief and speech; the right to wealth; the right to security, and the right to power. It is this right to power, which relates to modern conceptions of democracy.

According to Islam, it is the community as a whole, not one person, that owns and exercises power. In a chapter on "Al-Shura," the Quran describes Muslim society as one in which individuals manage their affairs through consultation. Shura represents the kind of direct democracy in which all people participate in meetings held to discuss community affairs. So long as they are peaceful in their dealings with others, members of the opposition have complete freedom to say and do as they please. Direct democracy takes place when members of a group, each representing himself or herself, come together to exchange views and arrive at decisions reached by the majority and applied by all.

In Islam, democracy is considered a ritual commandment. Like every ritual commandment, shura is a personal duty, which no one can perform on behalf of another. Muslims are urged to practice shura in their daily work and family lives, much as they are exhorted to pray five times a day. Dr. Mansour pointed out that Islamic democracy also entails accountability. A true Islamic society rules itself through executives who are accountable before their society. The Quran refers to these executives as "Olo Al Amr," meaning "those of the affairs."

The tradition of attending open meetings with Prophet Mohammed to discuss matters of common concern was a new one for the inhabitants of Al-Madina, Dr. Mansour said, but it soon took root. Despite the initial difficulties, democratic consultation became a way of life for the inhabitants of Al-Madina, even in times of war. Prophet Muhammed encouraged his people to govern themselves, which is why he did not appoint a successor. After his death, his legacy was altered, Dr. Mansour noted, by successive generations of rulers who failed to realize the democratic potential of Islam.

Returning to the modern era, Dr. Mansour lamented the conditions under which much of the Muslim world finds itself today-under the grip of dictators on the one hand and religious fanatics on the other. Between the dictators and their religious foes lies a weak, secular opposition that calls for democratic change. Dr. Mansour felt that it was incumbent on the international community, led by the United Nations and the United States, to help facilitate such change. He suggested that the United Nations reconsider its policy of nonintervention in order to combat authoritarian regimes. He concluded that the United States needs to negotiate with its allies in the Arab world to guarantee peace and direct its foreign assistance in support of groups working to promote human rights, democracy, and civil society.

Pictures:

“Raise your hand if you disagree.”

Xi Jinping - General Secretary of the CCP, President of the PRC

Xi Jinping on capitalist democracy

"If the people are awakened only at the time of voting and become dormant afterward; if the people only listen to big slogans during election campaigns but have no say afterward; if the people are only favored during canvassing but are left out after the election, such a democracy is not a true democracy."

14 October 2021

Xi Jinping - General Secretary of the CCP, President of the PRC

Related info.

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-hxBbns3MT8_PlEsDtHwigRBwhrwFxVn

[Naked] The less you wear, the closer you get to the hell.

https://youtu.be/Y6NZxuQXz14

‌地獄只有兩種人能去 - 貪官墮地獄的故事

‌

Resources

http://www.ahl-alquran.com/English/show_news.php?main_id=662

https://youtu.be/H_WspjfOxz0

https://youtu.be/UtsHy6uzbO4

https://youtu.be/JNoRvvtCGng

Basic knowledge for Muslim Leader 2. [2012/ 08/4] • Taipei Grand Masjid ❮YouTube - Hadziq 哈明飛❯ It was presented by Omar Ayesh and translated subsequently by Hanan Lu.

https://youtu.be/jbax6D2AzCw

【佛经《地藏经》英文双语对照】Earth Store Bodhisattva Sutra (中英对译版《地藏菩萨本愿经》) - 佛陀正法网 - The Authentic Buddha Dharma

https://fotuozhengfa.com/archives/35335

It was organized by Jhan, heng- cheng (詹杭橙師兄)

#bisiji3 #chiaochan27 #vivre26 #Charlotte #Charlotte_Jhan #Beth85448874 #confucius #confucianism #taoism #taoist #buddhism #peace #awakening #obedience #No_Rights_Reserved #nocopyright

⭐This Text is in the public domain and has no copyright.

0 notes

sealer-of-wenkamui · 7 years ago

Text

METHOD_MESSELA/.- Lyrics

This is my translation of Stellatram’s rendition of the Song METHOD_MESSELA/. from their album Hymmnos Chronicle. It is a very context-heavy song, as well as one that’s very important to me, so I wanted to do my own translation of it. I included the original Hymmnos and Japanese lyrics if anyone is curious.

For those who don’t know, Messela mode is a forbidden mode shift of Infel Phira that essentially gives the Maiden of Mio control over all the IPDs. It is very heavily implied that Infel used it to start her war of revenge against the Goddess and the people, given the circumstances, the description in the setting book, and Toukousphere 85, where she evades a question about it.

The lyrics on the left seem to be Infel’s parts, while the indented lyrics are the IPDs she is controlling. I suspect they wrote it as a fusion, which makes sense given the context, and also there are two feelings contained sections for it (one that seems to be the story programmed in the hymn crystal, one that’s clearly Infel’s own feelings) Thus I translated 神 as “Goddess” here.

I also did a translation of the feelings contained section as well as the explanations Stellatram provided, but this got long, so I’ll be putting them in another post, right here: LINK

The flame’s blazing light shines to wipe away sorrow

The exalted voices gather under the guide of Mio

The cracked land whispers to me-

Place judgement on this lowly world

The sound of despair reverberates

It is the breath of the evil Goddess that weaves the night

The girl places her hand on the forbidden box, and makes a wish to dispel the night-

Grant me the power to kill death

It is a forbidden box

It must never be touched

Or else the world would be stricken with fear

A form emerged from the forbidden box- it was another me

Another me who wished to shatter the canopy enveloping this ugly world

Inside that box were 1000 gears for weaving a new land of ideals

With this, we’ll make our paradise a reality

The awakened fear weaves the Holy Maiden’s form

She whispers in the girl’s ear-

With this, we’ll make our paradise a reality

The assembled gears desiring revolution grant the girl the power to bring forth a dark order

Give punishment for crime

Give despair!

Give judgement to sinners

Give judgement!

Give servitude to the incompetent

Give faith!

Give the iron hammer to malice

Give war!

The 1000 gears gather under 1 guide, and the Song leads the way to the seed’s desired form

Rejoice and Sing

Under the sacred theory of love, in which the world’s irrationality－ bug－will not be permitted

The world weaves grief anew

The chain of sadness remains unbroken

Only destruction will heal the land

The sound of control reverberates

It is the breath of the powerful people that wards off the night

The girl uses the power of the box to slay the night

Grant me the power to command death

It is a forbidden box

It must never be doubted

Or else the world would be stricken with despair

The girl has nothing to lose if the one that should have been saved is dead

O retainers

Rage, cry out, and awaken

Now conquer, let the footsteps of this army resound in the inviolable sanctuary

Sing, use all the power you have

We will take back that which was stolen

We are of the Divine Maiden

We will happily become a Song

We are the Divine Maiden’s spear

We will happily Sing

We are the Divine Maiden’s hope, as well as her grief

Give death to death

Give fear!

Give pain even further pain

Give suffering!

Give control a leader

Give grief!

Give atonement for fault

Give condemnation!

The 1000 gears gather under 1 guide, and the Song attains the seed’s desired form

Rejoice and Sing

Under the sacred theory of love, cast away by paradise

The world strives for a new countenance

The awakened transformation will remain unstopped

Only sleep will heal the land

The clattering of the gears advances the second hand towards a new world

Even the Goddess is entranced by the Song conducted and tuned with care

Thus the ancient canopy is repainted under a new theory

Original

xU rre Asiann aUukA ttu tUn h.l.s.s./. 焔き光は嘆きを絶つために xO rre LYOceku aNuNk dn LYOlyuma/. 尊き声は澪の標の下に xO rre gkgul siance fIs ut mea/. ひび割れた大地が私に囁く gLYOwOfUr LYIsphaela/. 卑賤なる世界に裁きを

wLYUwjOnc z.z.x. ale/. 絶望の音がこだまする xI sorr auLYOk glansee LYUkouf v.a. olo/. それは夜を紡ぐ悪しき神の息 xA harr yIzLYAtA tie LYIarhou, ttu tAnN olo/. 少女は夜を退けんと禁忌の匣に手をかけ、願う cEzO titia dOzYI du d.z./. 死を殺す力を、我に

　　xI sorr auNk LYIarhou/. 　　それは禁忌の匣　　xI rre zz tIkYAd tie vege, 　　それに決して触れるべからず　　fatere rre sphaela nImLYUl ut f.r.l./. 　　さもなくば世界は恐怖に染まる

xI rre raudl mEtLYUyyeh dn LYIarhou, ag a.u.k. Oraudl/. 禁忌の匣から這い出る躯体、それはもう一人の私 xA harr yAzOt za pOsYIwtLYAaye Acia_daedu, ag a.u.k. Araudl/. 醜き世界の天蓋を砕きたいと願った、もう一人の私 xA rre rAfrUm 1000 ale v.a. aje siance, ess LYIarhou/. その匣の中には、新たな理想の地を紡ぐための歯車が1000あった xO rre tErLYImLYO du LYOsiance/. これで私達の理想郷を実現させましょう

　　xI rre f.r.l. vEaNeh, ag vEaN Araudl_talam/. 　　目覚めし恐怖は聖女の姿を紡ぎ　　xI harr fEsYA zess f.s./. 　　少女の耳元で囁く　　xI rre tErLYEmLYN du LYAsiance/. 　　これで私達の理想郷を実現させましょう

Xc=xA rre ale lLYAncaEeh, ttu harr wAfA za cAzLYA -> xI harr wEsLYOeh titia p.s.w.t. balduo sechel/. 変革を望み組み上げられた歯車は、少女に冥き秩序を牽く力を与える

wOsLYO shazra tie cupla/. 罪には罰を　　zLYOzLYOxLYO! 　　絶望を wOsLYO g.w.f.r. tie gyajlee/. 罪人には裁きを　　gLYOwLYOfLYOr! 　　裁きを wAsLYA race tie Nqejyu/. 無能には隷属を　　wLYAwLYAjncLYA! 　　信仰を wAsLYU quesa tie ujes/. 悪意には鉄槌を　　hLYUmLYUmLYUr! 　　戦いを

xO rre 1000 ale lLYAnNcEa dn 1 LYAeje, ag wrYOlO raudl phira y.z.t./. 1000の歯車が1の標に集い、詩が種の望む容を導く jYElEj, ag hOmYOmLYOr 喜べ、そして謳え sev glansee Agral, zz s.l. Asiance_ujes/. 世界の不条理-バグ-を許さない、尊き愛の理論の下に

　　xU rre sphaela vUaI aje urgn/. 　　世界が新たな嘆きを紡ぐ　　xU rre hiew lYUnNca ayulsa/. 　　悲しみの連鎖は止まらず　　xN rre siance yIyEeh dn goa d.z./. 　　ただ滅びだけが大地を癒す

wLYUwjOnc m.n.g. ale/. 支配の音がこだまする xO sorr auLYAk glansee LYAkouf w.r.m. olo/. それは夜を祓う強き者達の息 xA harr tLYIrYImO d.z. tie olo dn Atitia_LYIarhou/. 少女は匣の力を以て夜を殺戮せしめる cEzO titia mNngYU du d.z./. 死を握る力を、我に

　　xA sorr auNk LYIarhou/. 　　それは禁忌の匣　　xA rre zz zIzYAx tie vege, 　　それを決して疑うべからず　　fatere rre sphaela nImLYUl ut z.z.x./. 　　さもなくば世界は絶望に染まる

Xc=xI rre Asiann_has dUzU, van harr wAfA za rYAwYA -> xO harr zz vNsYIkLYI aje urgn ayulsa/. 救うべき存在が死んでいたのなら、少女に失うものは何もない

jAzYOt tie Aceku x-> 臣下らよ nYOmLYOl, ssLYAw, ag jLYAlOrA/. 猛り、吼え、目覚めよ kOvLYUnrYA ut siance zz f.w.r. du w.n.s., oucc ale zalez/. 征くぞ、不可侵の聖域に軍靴の刻みを響かせて hYAmmOrYO, lLYAnNcaA Aeje_ceku gral/. 謳え、持てる力の限りを尽くし mOnLYIgI du mUnIgYIeh gral <-x/.

奪われたものを、奪い返すのだ

　　mErrYA tie LYAlyuma x-> 　　我らが神子へ　　cEzLYA hymmnos/. 　　喜び勇んで詩になりましょう　　aAuLYAk ar pauwel LYAlyuma j.z.t./. 　　我らは神子の振るう一条の槍　　hEmLYAmArA hymmnos/. 　　喜び勇んで詩を謳いましょう　　aAuLYAk arhou en urgn LYAlyuma w.h.h. < -x/. 　　我らは神子の希望、そして嘆き

wOsLYI d.z. tie d.z./. 死には死を　　fLYIrLYIlLYI! 　　恐怖を wOsLYI li zash tie zash/. 痛みには更なる痛みを　　wLYIhLYIhLYI! 　　苦しみを wAsLYA l.n.c.a. tie m.n.g./. 支配には統率を　　hLYAlLYAsLYAs! 　　嘆きを wAsLYU dejuy tie gyaje/. 過ちには贖罪を　　jLYUzLYUtLYU! 　　断罪を

xO rre 1000 ale lLYAnNcEa dn 1 LYAeje, ag cEzO raudl phira y.z.t./. 1000の歯車が1の標に集い、詩が種の望む容へと成る jYElEj, ag hOmYOmLYOr 喜べ、そして謳え sev glansee Agral, tUnIeh ess Asiance_ujes/. 理想郷に棄てられた、尊き愛の理論の下に

　　xA rre sphaela wUrAl aje raudl/. 　　世界が新たな容を目指す　　xA rre tussu lLYNnNca ayulsa/. 　　動き出した変化は止まらず　　xN rre siance yIyEeh dn goa t.n./. 　　ただ眠りだけが大地を癒す

xN rre ale sarsa hLYNmmrN ar arhou ut aje siance/. 歯車の刻音が新たな世界へと秒針を進ませる xN rre l.n.c.a. j.l.r. sarla pOsYUwUt LYAglansee fwal/. 束ねられ調律されたその詩に神さえもが聴き入り xN rre Acia_daedu mInYUgLYEeh dn aje METHOD/. かくて旧き天蓋は新しき理論の下に塗り替えられる

#Ar Tonelico #Hymmnos Chronicle #Stellatram #Messela #Ar Tonelico II #also the word for maiden was written slightly different so i #used divine maiden later on.... 御子　is what's usually used #what i called holy Maiden here literally is holy woman not that so uhh yeah

13 notes · View notes

ourprefers · 3 years ago

Text

Timor-Leste to go to the polls again after failing to elect a new leader in presidential election

Timor-Leste is headed for a run-off presidential election after Nobel Peace Prize laureate Jose Ramos-Horta failed to secure more than 50 per cent of the vote, despite a commanding lead over a fellow former independence fighter, incumbent President Francisco “Lu Olo” Guterres. Key points: The run-off vote is scheduled for April 19, with the winner to take office on May 20 The date coincides…

View On WordPress

0 notes

mafiaamongstus · 21 days ago

Text

The Mira Incident

A short story set in the Mafia Amongst Us world as written for my Creative Writing: Fiction class this previous semester...enjoy :3

Mira wasn’t a punishment. Olo had to keep reminding himself of that fact, especially as he waited for the dogs to finish their business so he could take them back to their pens.

Mira wasn’t a punishment; Olo was just doing what he could around the base in order to fill the time. Sure, that ended up being a lot of chores and taking care of the dogs that served as the scientist’s test subjects, but he had plenty of other, actually important, duties as well!

He just…didn’t need to do them, very often. Or at all, really.

After all, what’s the point in a security detail when the only people on the planet are a bunch of nerds and their science experiments? Twenty-three scientists, thirty-nine interns, twenty service staff keeping the place run, and Olo. The only one among them who had no real jobs outside of making sure that nobody left the base without a proper suit and radioing Earth once every two months to make sure that none of the scientists had suddenly become wanted criminals.

One of the dogs yelped, its tail trapped in a tangle of bushes, and Olo sighed, stepping over quickly to help the canine free itself.

Olo was an officer for the United Space Force, and he rather thought that the whole branch of the government was rather pointless. Sure, it might have been an important job and an honor fifty years ago when space travel first launched, but now that the bases on all the nearest planets had been built, anything short of being sent to explore deeper space rendered most of the specialized training as…useless.

But the scientists demanded their “safety”, never mind the fact that their only real threat was themselves, and so here Olo was. Standing in a greenhouse on an underbudget station waiting on dogs. A glorified mall cop for a bunch of people with too many doctorates and their experiments. It wasn’t a punishment; Olo was just on the bottom of the USF totem pole and he’d be lucky to be promoted off base before he turned fifty.

Olo resisted the urge to sigh again and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He’d been onbase for several months, but Galactic time took some getting used to. Olo smiled as he rubbed the head of one of the younger dogs, which barked at him, tail wagging. Reclipping the dog’s leash, Olo began to round up the canines. Pointless assignment or not, at least the dogs were cute.

Olo was pretty certain that if it weren’t for him, the dogs would live full time in their kennels in the testing bay. He wasn’t all that good with the scientific phrases thrown around base, so he didn’t know what they were even using the dogs for, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with trying to get animals and eventually humans to be able to survive in some of the harsher climate planets that had been discovered. Mira itself was a series of high-climbing mountains and canyons so deep they easily outclassed the Grand Canyon of Earth. However, Olo knew that some of the planets that the USF was talking about colonizing (or, at least planting military bases on) were full of extreme winters, brutalizing heat, or, in the case of one particular planet, an entirely aquatic surface.

“You all here?” Olo muttered, giving the dogs a headcount as he clipped the final leash. Nodding to himself as the dogs looked up at him with lolling tongues and wagging tails, Olo rose and led the canines toward the greenhouse’s exit.

Olo pressed a hand on the bioscanner, watching as the doors hissed open to reveal the long corridor that would lead to the rest of the base. Whoever had designed the base had to not have known about the mountains of Mira when they were planning it. The base had been built on one of the relatively flatter areas on the planet, and it crossed over a ravine several times over. In order to safely and quickly travel between the two sides of the base, a series of skybridges had been built in order to connect everything, glass floors and all.

Thankfully, Olo did not have a fear of heights. Less thankfully, it had taken him almost two full weeks to coax the dogs into walking over it without losing control of their bladders the second they saw the descent into nothingness beneath their paws.

But that had been months ago, and now Olo led the dogs through the skybridge and towards the lab with their kennels with ease.

It was nearing sunrise; most scientists had already left the cafeteria and entered their labs. Olo and his small pack of dogs passed a few of the white-coated workers, but otherwise the walk was silent, just like every other morning for the past five months.

Until one of the leashes tugged sharply as the dog on the other end turned and ran into a side hall, its leash slipping from Olo’s loose grasp. Olo hissed a quick curse, tightening his hold on the rest of the leashes as the other dogs began to try and follow the runner, thanking his luck that the new hallway was empty.

He caught up to the runaway easily, the dog barking and growling at the door to a closet. “Calm down,” Olo muttered, picking up the dog’s leash, “come on, you know what time it—” and then the smell hit him.

Olo dropped the leashes, his hand slamming upward to cover his nose and mouth as the smell of rotting meat wafted through the air. The rest of the dogs had started snarling as well, hackles raising as they stared at the door, teeth bared.

Slowly, Olo’s arm reached for the handle, his other hand still pinching his nose as his eyes watered from the smell. He hadn’t gone down this tunnel in…had he ever? He couldn’t even say where this led to, but the door should have led to a chemical closet, they hadn’t gone far enough for this to lead to any sort of laboratory. Olo’s fingers closed on the handle and with a harsh twist he opened the door—

Something loomed—

Olo stepped back, hand releasing his mouth as he reached for his pistol—

The shadow fell forward, Olo successfully took hold of his gun, pulling it from its holster as—

The body fell with a thump.

“Oh God—”

Olo stared down at the corpse—it had to be a corpse; no living human could survive looking like that—his brain refusing to process just what he was seeing. The face was the worst of it; blood leaking from the mouth and nose, discolored skin, bloated flesh and half rotted eyes.

But worst of all, he knew that face—how could he not? Having been on Mira as long as he had he could recognize almost everyone here by sight, but this—this was Dr. Taio.

The dogs were barking but Olo couldn’t hear them, they were brushing against his side, but he could barely feel their touch.

Olo had spoken to Dr. Taio at breakfast earlier that day. It had been before he’d gone to fetch the dogs, Rion had sat next to him; they’d reminisced about the food back home. Taio’d been a bit off, sure, but Olo had chalked that up to being tired, not—

No.

No, this was just…

Well, it smelled too bad to be a hallucination or a dream, so that was out of the picture, but Olo didn’t know what Taio was studying. This was likely just an…unfortunate accident as a result of his studies. Something terrible but not entirely unexpected in his line of work, surely. Everyone out here was working on some science that flew miles over Olo’s head; who’s to say one of them wasn’t dealing with…exotic…space…diseases…that caused extremely accelerated decomposition…

Olo took several long steps back, glancing quickly at the dogs. He’d need to make sure their handlers had them cleaned. He wouldn’t mention why just yet, this…this wasn’t something they needed to worry about.

There was an explanation for this. It was a terrible, horrible, awful accident.

A small voice at the back of Olo’s mind urged him to question why Taio had been shoved into a closet. What the suspicious muddled brown stain on his shirt was.

Instead, Olo slowly reached for his communicator. He rarely used it—not too many scientists were actually fond of him, despite their having near-demanded his presence.

The dogs were still barking.

The smell had reached so far into his nose Olo wondered mutely if he’d ever be free of it.

“Officer Olo to Dr. Rion, what is your current location?”

The communicator buzzed with static for several long seconds. Olo tried a second time, but the static continued. Switching it off, Olo knelt down and began to gather up the leashes, ignoring the snarls and barks of the dogs as he began to pull them away from the door.

Dr. Rion would have the answers. Everything would be fine. This was a terrible accident, surely. Something that would someday become a warning for new lab assistants. Olo just had to go put the dogs away and get Rion to confirm it.

It was just an accident. Rion would be able to confirm that. There would be a memorial service, probably, and Taio’s body would be shipped back home to be grieved. And life would move on.

Because it was an accident, and Taio had died tragically while working on his experiments. He had probably gone into the closet to look for sanitizer or some other chemical. Everything was fine. There was no need to start a panic, Rion would confirm it, he would call a meeting afterwards, and they would have a quiet memorial for the man before moving on with life.

It was an accidental death.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“You’re sure it was rotting?”

“Doctor I’ve not seen many dead bodies in my time, but I’d like to think I know what happens when one stinks like that.”

“Right, right. It’s just, well…that’s quite impossible, you understand.”

Olo let out a haggard laugh. “Trust me Doctor, I’m well aware of how impossible this situation is.”

Dr. Rion was a forensics specialist studying how DNA reacted to various environments in space, as well as the closest thing the facility had to a medical examiner. He’d been on the other end of the base when Olo had radioed but had met him halfway while Olo had finally gotten the dogs away from the body, sectioning off the hallway so that nobody would disturb the body, before returning them to their kennels. They’d resisted, barking and snarling at the body, straining on their leashes to try and get back to the closet, but Olo had gotten them firmly put away.

He'd then had to go and retrieve Rion from his lab, a quarter-miles worth of skybridges away. He’d thought about putting up an alert, but something in the back of Olo’s mind had nagged at him until he’d decided to wait until Rion had seen the body. If there was a rapid-onset rot disease of some kind on the base, Olo would rather not deal with any sort of panic until he had at least some answers.

Now, nearly an hour and a half later, Olo and Rion were on their way back to that hallway, Olo having explained the situation to the doctor.

“Is there any chance any of Taio’s experiments could have done this? Some sort of virus he was working with?” Olo asked, footsteps echoing slightly as the two walked.

“Virus?” Rion asked, turning his head sharply to look at Olo. “Officer, no scientist on this base is working with disease, we don’t have the funding to maintain that sort of work. Taio’s an etymologist; he was doing a private study to observe how scientists of different countries would develop language to better communicate with one another. None of us know why he had to do it out here, but we’ve all got our theories. ”

Olo stilled, grabbing hold of Rion’s arm and pulling the doctor to a halt as the man’s words processed.

“Sir?” Rion started to ask, glancing at Olo, who had a grim expression set onto his face.

“You’re telling me,” Olo said slowly, locking eyes with Rion, “that nobody on this entire damned station is working with disease?”

Rion shook his head. “We aren’t equipped for it up here—sure, we’ve got basic decontamination, but that’s used almost exclusively for incoming and outgoing transfers. You remember when you first arrived?”

Olo did remember. It had been more of a carwash than what he’d expected, having to walk through a hallway straight out of science fiction while it blasted him with assorted chemicals to remove any contaminants. He was fairly certain it was connected to at least one laboratory, but that was likely more out of the necessity of keeping the labs and any sort of technology on stable ground.

“Then what the hell did that to the body of a man that was walking and breathing less than four hours ago?”

Rion was silent, his face going through several emotions. Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “but once I examine the body I should have a better idea. You said it was down S-37?”

Olo released Rion’s arm, allowing the two to continue walking. “Yeah. I don’t go down that way often—I wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for the dogs. They knew it was there, which I figure is more argument for a virus; say that body had been sitting there for weeks, then why would they only react now?”

Rion hummed, shrugging slightly. “It takes a bit before a body starts to smell, and it only gets stronger with time. It was probably out of their range until today.”

“Still doesn’t explain how Taio sat two feet from me and ate pancakes this morning.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The smell was…

Well, it wasn’t worse thankfully, but it wasn’t exactly easier than the first time it had hit Olo. One hand clasped firmly over his nose and mouth; he lifted the other to raise the security tape for Rion to duck under.

The corpse was still where Olo had left it, laying on its side half in the closet. Rion grimaced, kneeling next to the body as he took a pair of gloves from his pocket, pulling them on. “Well, I can certainly see why you thought he was working with disease. Especially given he was…not like this earlier. But even if he had the plague, I don’t see what could have caused this level of deterioration.”

“You said he was a linguist?” Olo asked, checking the hallway beyond them. It was empty, the lights in the distance flickering slightly. Not horribly, but the sort of flickering that would cause a headache if looked at for too long. “No reason for him to go outside and get bit by anything?”

“Even if he was,” Rion grumbled, rolling the corpse onto its back, “there’s nothing out there to bite him. We haven’t found any signs of life on Mira, just a bunch of rocks and ditches; it’s part of why this place was one of the first outposts to be built. Well, us and the one back on Earth’s moon.”

“Did he have any allergies?”

Rion fixed Olo with a blank stare. “I don’t know what sort of allergies you’ve seen, but there’s nothin’ out there to be allergic to that’ll do this level of damage in this short of a timeframe.”

Olo grimaced. “Poison?”

Rion sighed, turning back to the body. “That’s…a possibility. I won’t lie and say Taio was well liked, but I can’t think of anyone that hated him enough to do…this. Let alone anyone that would also have the know-how and access to the right chemical combinations. That’s assuming he even was poisoned.” Rion frowned; his gaze fixed on the dark brown spot on Taio’s coat. He reached for it, shifting the clothing aside. As the doctor did so, the clunking noise of footsteps rang through the skybridge. Olo scowled, turning back towards the flickering lights. He hadn’t wanted the rest of the base to learn about the death just yet, which was why he’d blocked off the hallway on both ends before returning the dogs.

Taking a few steps forward, one hand still protecting his nose and the other now resting on his pistol, Olo drew upon his months in training and shouted, “Whoever’s there, turn around and find a new route. This bridge is closed.”

The footsteps stopped for a few beats before resuming. Olo listened for a moment, but they seemed to be drawing closer. His scowl deepened as he called, “This is Officer Olo. This skybridge is closed on my authority. Turn around now.”

A longer pause, this one stretching on. No footsteps moving forward at least, but none that seemed to be leaving either. Olo sighed and turned his head to look at Rion. “Can you handle this on your own? I need to see what’s going on back there.”

Rion didn’t respond. Olo couldn’t see what the doctor was doing from this angle, just that Taio’s coat had been moved aside, revealing his undershirt to be stained that same dark brown color. “Doctor?” Olo prodded, taking a glance down the still-silent hallway before turning fully to the doctor and the corpse.

“Officer, you need to see this.” Rion said quietly, shifting to allow Olo a clear line of sight to—

Oh God…

In the center of Taio’s chest—or rather, in the center of where Taio’s chest should have been—was a large, circular hole.

“What the hell…” Olo stared at the fatal (it had to have been, there was no way ANYONE could have survived whatever had caused that) injury.

“Officer…” Rion’s voice was quiet, his gaze fixed on the wound as he leaned back. “Officer, this…whatever caused this could not have also caused this rot. I’ll obviously need to still perform an autopsy, but I think it’s safe to say that Dr. Taio died of impalement. And that…he’s been dead for several days.”

“That’s physically impossible,” Olo ran a hand through his hair, “I saw him this morning, I watched him eat. Are you telling me ghosts are real and can eat now?”

“I don’t know about that, but I do know this, sir: his body was shoved in a closet. He was killed by…falling onto something maybe, or he was stabbed. In either case there is nothing in that closet that could have caused this.”

Olo let out a quiet curse, staring down at the body. The implications of Rion’s words were plain as a foggy day. Someone on the base had murdered Taio, and then…what exactly? Summoned his ghost from the world beyond and it had just acted like everything was fine? Had someone built a robotic clone? Hologram, maybe? He’d have to put out an alert, though with the communications down getting word to everyone on base would be a nightmare.

“How long is that autopsy going to take you?”

Instead of a response, there was a brief choked off noise. Olo turned and—

Rion was still kneeling next to him. Still staring down at the body, eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar, but there was—

Olo didn’t think he could even begin to describe it. It was blacker than the chasms underneath the skybridges, needle-sharp and about as wide around as a water bottle.

And it was sticking out of Rion’s throat.

Was his heart pounding or had it slowed?

Olo’s head turned—slowly, too damn slowly…

It was behind him. Ten feet? Maybe fifteen.

It was that same void-darkness, except—

—the teeth, too many teeth, too sharp and too many—

—eyes glowing without pupils—

—covered in dark scales and red fur and teeth—

Its mouth—one of its mouths—was open. And that thing, that thin, sharp thing protruded from it, ending in the point that had slid through Rion’s neck. And as Olo watched, the needle-sharp tongue—what else could it be—retreated, pulling out of Rion as he slumped forward onto Taio’s body, fresh blood mixing with old. The tongue pulled back, dripping blood as it retreated into the thing’s mouth.

Olo took two steps backward, his hand reaching for his pistol. The creature’s head snapped to look at him, and its mouth widened, baring teeth as it—it rippled.

And in the time it took for Olo to draw his pistol, hands trembling, the creature’s form melted, shifting and rippling until it was no longer a creature of darkness and blood—its tail melted into its back, its claws withdrew, its fur retreated until it was…

The thing rippled its form until it was a perfect copy of Dr. Rion standing in front of him, grinning and licking blood off of its chin.

“Hello Officer,” the thing said in Rion’s voice, head tilted just too far to be humanly possible.

Its mouth opened, but before it could continue Olo began to fire, three bullets blasting through the air and slamming into the thing’s body. It dropped to the ground, crumpling like a puppet in ways the human body was not designed to bend.

Olo started to reach for his communicator, before the reminder of quiet static hit him. He began to walk backwards, not wanting to let his eye off the corpse.

He’d reached the caution tape, about to duck under it and start running for the radio room, when the thing twitched. Olo froze once more, eyes watching in horror as the thing heaved itself into a quasi-sitting position. “So, you want to play?” the thing-that-was-not-Rion asked, grinning with teeth that were at once human and not. “Alright. Run then, little Officer. And don’t let me catch you.” It licked its lips, tongue black as ink. “Death tastes so much sweeter when it’s won.”

Olo jerked backwards, tearing the caution tape from the wall. His hands shook, but he lifted his pistol once more and fired again, two more shots. The thing flinched, but its eyes stayed firm on Olo.

Olo took a step back, then another, and then he turned and began to run. The creature’s laughs echoed behind him.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The cafeteria was one of the centermost parts of the station. The builders had wanted it to be relatively easy to access, since it would serve as a sort of hub. People would go to eat, leave for work, and so forth.

The cafeteria also had a large walk-in storage closet with a little of nearly everything in it, in case something needed to be replaced in a hurry, and it was faster to get to the cafeteria instead of the near mile and a half trek out to the larger storage containers.

Which is to say, when Olo remembered that he had rather limited ammunition…he ran to the cafeteria first. He’d need to change skybridges anyways in order to get to the communications center and to the escape pods, and it would be the best starting point to warn people to get out of the base as quickly as they could.

That was assuming, of course, that he had beaten the thing to the cafeteria.

There had only been a few workers lingering in the cafeteria when he had charged into the room, and whether from his words, tone of voice, or the sheer panic visible on his face, Olo had convinced them that working hours were over, it was time to get off the damn base right now, and they’d ran towards the escape pods. This left Olo tearing through the storage closet, pulling out ammunition and filling his pockets with multiple magazines as quickly as he could.

Had that thing been what had wiped out the Orion VI? There were a handful of documented cases where entire spaceship crews had gone missing, was Mira about to be the first station that turned Roanoke?

There was a shuffling noise from the cafeteria, and Olo’s head snapped toward the door. Heart pounding, he held his pistol in front of him, picking his way back to the door of the closet.

Standing in front of the door, Olo allowed himself a few more seconds to take a deep breath while something shuffled in the cafeteria, before he kicked the door open, leading with his gun and screaming “WHO’S THERE?”

“DON’T SHOOT!” a man shrieked, throwing his hands in the air and dropping his food onto the ground, the paper plate landing with a soft thwack.

Olo stared at him, hands shaking slightly. He recognized the man, an intern in the animal lab. Olo had passed him earlier when he’d been putting the dogs away.

“Who are you?” Olo demanded. “What’s your name?”

“I’m—I’m Elyot, I work for Dr. Tann, with the—with the dogs, I’m the one that signs them back in after you bring them back!” the man stammered, sweat beading at his forehead as he stared at the pistol in Olo’s hands. “I swear, whatever you think I did, I didn’t do it! I was just getting lunch; I know it’s early but it’s my day to feed the dogs and it takes so long and if I wait until after then all the good stuff will be—”

“Enough.” Olo sighed, lowering his gun marginally. Elyot’s mouth snapped shut and he nodded, hands still raised.

If he knew about the dogs, then there was a good chance he wasn’t the thing. He hadn’t told ‘Taio’ about his daily excursions with the animals, and he didn’t think the thing had ever seen him with them, the greenhouses being far from Taio’s usual walk.

But that thing had also taken Taio’s form for days if not weeks, and it had taken on Rion’s with ease.

Olo glared at Elyot and stepped forward, pushing his gun closer to the man as he asked, “Three days ago, one of the dogs bit another. Which dog was injured?”

“Doodle!” Elyot nearly sobbed, leaning away from the pistol. “Doodle was bitten by Bob!”

Olo lowered his gun. Taio hadn’t been anywhere near the dogs when he’d brought them back that day. Either the thing had learned that information elsewhere, or this man was who he claimed. There was a part of Olo that screamed he couldn’t fully trust Elyot, that there was a chance this was all some sort of twisted trick. But if this truly was a scared man, then Olo knew he had a duty to help get him off of Mira and to safety. “Alright, listen up Elyot,” Olo spoke, clapping a hand to Elyot’s shoulder. The man flinched, hesitantly lowering his hands. “There’s a monster on this base and it’s going to kill us all. Which means we need to get the hell out of here without letting it follow us. You know how to shoot?”

Elyot’s eyes grew wider as Olo continued, and he shook his head rapidly. “N-no, I can’t.”

“Just what I needed,” Olo muttered, releasing Elyot’s shoulder. “Alright, here’s the deal. This thing can shapeshift, meaning that you stay with me at all times. If you leave me, I leave you, understood?”

“Yessir,” Elyot nodded, running a hand through his hair. “If it…that is…Sir, earlier we, that is the lab I work in, one of the workers from the radio room came by and told us that the communications were down for maintenance. We can’t, we can’t warn the rest of the base, can we?”

Olo shook his head. “No. And with communications down, then that means we can’t send an alert offworld. Which is why you and I are going to the escape pods, right now. We see anyone on our way, we test them first, do you understand?” He began to walk toward the door, not waiting for Elyot’s response.

“And—what if, what if they can’t—”

“I shot that thing five times and it didn’t bleed,” Olo said quietly. “And if someone is lying, I don’t intend to get close enough to try them with a papercut. My priority is getting off base and informing the USF so that they can send in the heavy guns. Anyone that we’re able to rescue at that point, I will personally beg them to forgive me for leaving them here. But our first priority needs to be to get off base. We don’t have time to waste fixing the communicators. Now come on, we’ve got to move.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Olo didn’t trust the main hallway. He’d led Elyot through the side halls, stopping to listen at every maintenance tunnel and closet. Although he knew that the thing could walk silently when it wanted to, he’d rather not walk right into its teeth.

They’d encountered two people so far, a geologist and her intern. Both had been reasonably able to confirm their identities, and although it only increased his worry, Olo had allowed them to follow him and Elyot.

It was one thing to blindly leave the inhabitants of the base; it was another to refuse them to their faces.

Olo glanced back to look at his three companions. The geologist was Ari, she carried herself with a grim expression, hands gripping a plunger she had paused to retrieve from the last supply closet they’d passed; her intern was named Perx- while clearly riddled with nerves, he held his pocketknife with surprisingly steady hands. Olo didn’t have the heart to tell them that the weapons were likely useless; if his bullets hadn’t done anything, he doubted blunt force trauma or stabbing would. But if it made them feel better to hold it, he’d rather have his companions somewhat confident rather than complete messes.

Hearing a rustling noise ahead, Olo’s head snapped forward again, and he raised his gun. “Who’s there?” he demanded, hearing his companions draw closer behind him.

Silence—Olo was about to shout again, when a young woman emerged from a maintenance tunnel. Her eyes widened when she saw the group, and she yelped, “Don’t shoot!” raising her hands quickly.

“Name and rank!” Olo barked, keeping his gun pointed at her.

“Etta! I work in the chemistry lab!”

“Any of you know her?” Olo asked, not taking his eyes off the woman.

“I do,” Perx called.

“Prove you’re really Etta,” Olo demanded, eyes narrow. “He’ll verify it. Something he would know that happened before yesterday.”

“I fell asleep at breakfast two days ago, those two were both there,” Etta said, pointing towards Ari and Perx. “I had to spend three hours getting tested before Medical agreed I wasn’t sick.”

It wasn’t the most solid alibi, but with a quick glance at Perx, who was nodding, Olo lowered his gun. “Come on, we need to get to the escape pods. Now.”

“Why?” Etta asked. “For all I know you’re taking them hostage, I won’t go along with that!”

“Etta please, it’s an emergency,” Perx pleaded. “If you don’t come with us he’ll leave you here.”

“And what’s so bad about being left away from a lunatic with a gun?”

Perx’s voice trembled slightly. “We can’t stay here, Taio’s dead, there’s a monster—”

With every second of delay, Olo could feel their time running out. He didn’t know where that thing was, but he refused to let it catch him arguing with some science nerd. Olo raised his gun and took a few steps forward. “We’re leaving, Etta, getting off this station before that damn thing kills us all. Either you come with us, or I leave you here. What’s it gonna be?”

Etta stared at Olo; her eyes widened as the moment stretched for several heartbeats. Olo opened his mouth again, ready to wish her luck and keep moving, when her gaze shifted towards Perx, a smile forming on her lips. “How cute of you to think you can save them.”

In an instant, Etta leapt towards Perx, Ari, and Elyot, hands stretching and stretching, darkening into razor sharp claws, and sinking into Perx’s chest.

Someone screamed—Ari or Elyot, Olo couldn’t tell. He shot, then again, and again, and again. From this close it was easy to hit the thing, and he watched it fall. Two rounds in its head, one in its arm, and the third—

“Oh God,” Elyot whimpered from behind Olo, staring at the blood pooling from Ari’s chest. She had been too close to Perx—

—she had been behind Perx, too close to get away—

—her body slumped over the monster’s, blood mingling with the hissing, writhing form as it pushed the bullets back out of its body.

“We—we have to move, Elyot. It won’t stay down for long,” Olo said, turning away from the blood and the thing.

“You think you can escape from me?” the beast taunted. “Keep running little humans, but you can’t run forever!”

Olo’s jaw clenched, and he took hold of Elyot’s arm, pulling him along as he ran. Elyot followed, and Olo released his arm so that he could run faster, gripping his pistol tightly as the two of them turned down corridor after corridor, drawing closer to the escape pods but still not. Close. Enough.

“What do we do now?” Elyot asked, his pitch climbing as they ran.

“We keep running, and we get to those pods, and we get the hell out of here!” Olo snapped. “No more stops, no more checking people. We leave and let the people with better weapons deal with it.”

A left, then another. A right, another left, and then—

“There!”

The door was marked with bright red lettering:

EMERGENCY USE ONLY

Olo ran to the door, slamming his hand against the panel beside it.

The scanner was warm against his hand, even through his gloves. It pulsed up and down several times, agonizingly slowly. Finally, the doors began to hiss open, and Olo jammed his arm between the panels, forcing them apart.

Two of the pods were already missing. One was likely from the cafeteria workers he’d sent away earlier. The other, Olo couldn’t be sure. But with what had happened only a few minutes ago, he knew it couldn’t have been the monster.

Five pods remained, each equipped with enough fuel to take it from the surface to beyond the atmosphere in a matter of minutes, once it was booted up.

The world seemed to slow.

He could leave the other four pods; there was a chance, slim though it was, that more people on the base would realize what was happening and would leave. It might be a bit cramped, but each pod could carry ten people comfortably. If the occupants rationed, they could fit up to fifteen per without worrying about running out of food or water before they made it back to Earth.

But there was an equal chance that the monster would figure out how to work the pods. It had posed as Taio easily; it had clearly learned how several of the systems on the base worked. If it could manage to work the pods? The pods with a course pre-charted for Earth?

“Elyot, pick a pod and get it started.” Olo’s voice was low but firm. It would take Elyot ten minutes to get the pod started solo. The two of them didn’t have enough time to start each pod. But Olo knew that he could do a lot of damage in that time.

“What abou—”

“I’ll be right behind you. But I—I can’t let that thing follow us.”

Elyot stared at him for a moment, eyes wide. He looked up at the pod, then down at his hands. His right arm was red with blood—Ari’s or Perx’s, Olo didn’t know. “Y-yessir,” he said softly, before he ran towards one of the remaining pods and began opening its door.

Olo closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, before he walked to a different pod. He pried open a panel on the side and began tearing at the wires, sparks crackling as he tore through the connectors. By the time he’d repeated the process for the other three pods, the one Elyot had chosen had begun to thrum with life.

“Sir, it’s ready to go!” Elyot called, gripping the pod’s hatch and watching the hallway with a nervous grimace.

Olo nodded, running up the small ramp and joining the intern in the pod. The hatch began to close, but Olo kept his gaze fixed on the hallway.

If this was a movie, maybe the monster would have appeared as the hatch hissed shut; he would have seen it through the small window as he and Elyot were launched into the air. But no monster appeared, and as the floor of the pod rumbled, Olo let himself be pulled by Elyot into a seat, his pistol tumbling to the ground. Elyot strapped the two of them in, and Olo kept his gaze focused on the door.

For the last twenty minutes, he’d been so focused on just getting to the pods, that now that he’d made it—now that the two of them were on their way back to Earth, news of the monster ready to be delivered—now that all that was left to do was wait during the three-week-long journey it would take to get back to Earth—now, Olo was left to face the fact that he had just completely abandoned a base of seventy-eight humans to a monster that stole their faces and murdered them happily. To a monster that would tear them apart, when he could have—

He could have—

Could have…

Could have what? Tried to save more of them? He’d tried to bring Ari and Perx with him, but the monster had struck faster than he could shoot. He could have left the pods intact, but then he may as well have signed a gilded invitation for the beast to terrorize Earth.

Olo had done all that he could, he’d done the best with the time that he’d had, he’d done his best.

So then why were his eyes stinging, and a pit deeper than the ravines of Mira beginning to open in his stomach?

He and Elyot would deliver the news, the Space Force would send in troops with better weapons, with armor, with gas, with something that could kill the monster and avenge all of the lives that he’d just condemned.

He had done what he could, and now the world would know about the monster, and no one would ever have to be left wondering what had happened to the Mira outpost. They would not be the Orion VI spacecraft all over again.

Had those souls been lost to a monster like that too?

Was that thing native or Mira or was it just one of a much larger problem?

Olo didn’t know.

He hated that he didn’t know, despite the fact that rationally, there was no way for him to know.

Olo couldn’t even take the credit for the discovery, that had all been-

Oh god the dogs. The scientists taking care of the dogs were still blissfully unaware, would they let the dogs out before anything happened, or would the poor creatures be forced to watch from inside their kennels as the monster slaughtered their keepers? While it slaughtered them?

The pod rumbled, shaking slightly as it began to slow. They’d officially left Mira’s atmosphere, and now, all that was left was the three-week journey back home. They’d be bored likely, once the fear settled and all that was left to do was wait for their pod to touch base back on Earth. The pod had been designed for emergency travel only, but they wouldn’t need to worry about food or water at the least.

Elyot unclipped his straps, floating in the zero gravity towards the pod’s minimalist bathroom. He’d peeled off his coat at some point, Olo wasn’t sure when, and was scratching at the blood on his arm as he moved.

He’d saved someone, at least. Elyot would be able to back him up, they wouldn’t dismiss Olo as having lost himself to some form of space-madness. And Elyot would be able to return to his family, he would be safe, Olo had saved him, that had to count for something, right?

It wouldn’t outweigh the fact that he had killed Ari. It wouldn’t outweigh the fact that Olo had abandoned the rest of the base to that thing.

Olo had done what he could.

He just prayed it would be enough.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Back on Mira, a monster grinned as it took Olo’s form, watching the retreating flame of the escape pod before turning to find its next victim and assure them that, of course everything was fine. Several scientists had just decided to abandon the station. The USF would handle everything, including sending replacement pods for the ones that had been sabotaged on the scientist’s way out.

Space was perfectly safe, just as it always had been.

2 notes · View notes

leanpick · 3 years ago

Text

East Timor heads to presidential run-off

East Timor’s presidential poll looks headed for an April run-off despite the latest vote count showing a commanding lead for Nobel laureate Jose Ramos-Horta. With all votes counted, Ramos-Horta had secured 46.58 per cent – more than twice the share of his rival Francisco “Lu Olo” Guterres but still shy of the majority needed to win in one round. Almost two decades after gaining independence from…

View On WordPress

0 notes

pamphletstoinspire · 7 years ago

Photo

Novena For Healing the Family Tree

It is very important to remember that the sins of previous generations can be visited upon the present generation, as well as our sins today being visited on future generations. The Bible says in Exodus 20:5 (where God gives us His First Commandment to have no strange gods before Him), Exodus 34:7, Numbers 14:18, and Deuteronomy 5:9, that the punishment for sins can be given to the 3rd and 4th succeeding generations. (Douay-Rheims version for all quotes listed herein)

Purgatory is something that most of the other Christian denominations find difficult to understand in light of the fact that Jesus died for our sins and to set us free. But there is much written evidence of the need to remember our dead in prayer for both their release and our freedom, and many scriptural passages attest to this.

Several scriptural passages on the subject are as follows:

“Our fathers have sinned, and are no more; and we have borne their iniquities.” (Lamentations 5:7)

“The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the teeth of the children are set on edge.” (Ezechiel 18:2)

“… I am the Lord thy God, mighty, jealous, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me.” (Exodus 20:5)

Looking deeper at those who have gone before us, we may want to reflect on the quotation “I am what I am and all who went before me.” Genetic coding sends inherent family traits, skills, mannerisms and resemblances down through the ages.

The nastier traits travel too. In Ireland there is a saying: “Tisn’t from the wind he/she gets it,” meaning that the parents, grandparents or other family members have similar ways.

An eminent Christian Scottish Psychiatrist named Dr. Kenneth McAll, wrote a book called “Healing the Family Tree” wherein he discovered that the wrongdoings of someone in the ancestry was affecting the present generation. Father Robert de Grandis discovered Dr. McAll’s work and came to the same conclusion in his own Healing Ministry. Father de Grandis’ book “Intergenerational Healing,” gives some powerful testimonies to the link of the deeds and actions of past generations to the present generation. He also shows certain personality traits with links to the past.

“In the following prayer we will cover many areas of un-love and negativity, including marriage relationships, hurt children, sexual sins, mental and physical illness, depression, fear, compulsiveness and addictions, criminal and violent behavior, unloving, un-mourned and violent deaths, patterns of separation, patterns of injustice, idolatries, traumas from being different, and communication disorders.

Forgiveness opens the door to the whole healing process. We will begin by renouncing the occult and psychic links in ourselves and our ancestors, and asking the Lord to come in with His Precious Blood and the waters of our baptism to fill us with His life and love.”

We can pray the following short prayer for our ancestors, starting with a prayer to take authority over anything that is not of God:

Healing the Family Tree Prayer

“In the Name of Jesus, I take authority and I bind all powers and forces In the air, in the ground, in the water, in the underground, in nature and in fire. You are the Lord over the entire universe and I gave you the Glory of Your Creation. In your name, Lord, I bind all demonic forces that have come against me and my family and I seal all of us in the protection of Your Precious Blood that was shed for us on the Cross.”

“Mary our Mother, we seek your protection and intercession with the Sacred Heart of Jesus from me and my family, and surround us with your mantle of love to discourage the enemy.”

“Saint Michael the Archangel and our Guardian Angels come defend me and my family in battle against all the evil ones that roam the earth. Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in our hour of need. May God restrain him, we humbly pray. And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Hosts, cast Satan down to hell and with him all the wicked spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls.”

“In the Name of Jesus, I bind and command all the powers and forces of evil to depart right now away from us, our homes and our lands. And we thank You Lord Jesus for You are a faithful and compassionate God. Amen.”

“Heavenly Father, I ask You now to go back through all in my blood line, my husband’s/wife’s bloodline, and the bloodlines connected to all of my family and relatives and forgive the wrongs, heal the illnesses, bind the evil deeds. I ask You Lord to break the chains, associations, and links any of these may have to us here in the present. On their behalf Lord, I seek Your forgiveness, your healing and a pouring out of your Divine Love so that Your Love may now pour forth through the years and touch us in the here and now. So that Your Divine and Healing Love will take the place of all the past hurts, angers, hates, un-love of You, destructive emotions or actions and evil ties of our ancestors. So that Your Precious Blood and Divine Love and Healing will heal us of the residue we carry from our ancestors. In true faith I thank You Lord because You have said ‘ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find, knock and the door shall be opened to you.’ Today Lord I knock, I seek, I ask. All praise and thanks to You my loving Father.”

Our Father (Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.),

Hail Mary (Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death. Amen.),

Glory Be (Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.).

The following prayer for the release from ancestral curses comes from a devotional book entitled the Precious Blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ. It was given by Our Lord and Our Lady to a nearly illiterate Nigerian teenage boy, Barnabas Nwoye, in the village of Olo, Enugu State, Nigeria, on 8 July 1998. It is one of a series of devotional prayers given to Barnabas from 1995 – 2003. He was told by our Lord that this is the greatest devotion he has ever given the Church and the last one he will give in this age. This is the ark that will protect and bring the Holy Catholic Church, the remnant faithful and all those you love and pray for safely through the bitter trials of the coming chastisement and into the promised Era of Peace. More information can be obtained by visiting the website:

www.PreciousBloodInternational.com

Prayer for Release from Ancestral Curses

“All who are under curses and constantly say this prayer shall be free from their curses. Any family that is suffering from the curse of sins made by their forefathers and makes a 144 day novena through this prayer, will be freed. All who break a covenant and are supposed to die shall be saved and also be released from their curse if they constantly say this prayer and repent. My children, how terrible will it be to fall into God’s anger! Turn from your sins and live. I love you all. Be healed.”

Eternal Father, You are the only Immortal God, God Who is love, merciful and kind. Look at your only begotten Son, Jesus Christ, and have mercy. I offer You the pains of His scourging at the pillar, His wounds and blood, for all Your people who are under the weight of the curse due to the sins of their ancestors and their disobedience for breaking the covenant they made with You. May You set us free through the scourging of Your Son, heal us through His wounds and save us through His Precious Blood. Amen. Precious Blood of Jesus Christ – release us from curses. Holy wounds of Jesus Christ – heal our wounds. By your scourging – seal us. Amen.

***

To bind and dispel demons from a person or place (especially when traveling or entering into a home, business, or building), use the following prayer interiorly:

In the Name of Jesus Christ, I bind all evil spirits and spiritual influences here present and cast them into the prison of the Most Holy Trinity. Amen.

***

Pamphlet - Novena For Healing The Family Tree

https://docs.wixstatic.com/ugd/a84285_e5e6c0c83525415fa180978d09a2baa6.pdf

All Novena Pamphlets

https://www.pamphletstoinspire.com/novenas

#novena for healing the family tree

2 notes · View notes