Chronicles Of Hand Zekiel
A young girl discovered a novel in her father's library and carried it outside, where her brother was eagerly waiting. The book was written by the revered First Hand of Ur, Zekiel of a Thousand Souls. She sat on the sandy ground beneath the cloudy sky and began to read aloud so everyone around could hear.
She began:
*"At the peak of Mount Serto in the Kingdom of Ur dwell the dreadful Creatures of Nothing. In a world where everything is either natural or artificial, these beings are the only exception. Filthy creatures without true thought, many take the forms of beasts that roam the earth, while others resemble winged predators of the skies.
If you were to ask the people who live beneath Mount Serto about these creatures, most would laugh and shrug.
'Ehh, those things? Pay them no mind. They're harmless most of the time. If they go rogue, just kill a few—then the rest calm down immediately.'
But if you were to climb the mountain itself and ask the human dwellers of Serto, their response would be different. They would smile—a smile heavy with meaning—and waste no time in telling you.
A shopkeeper might say:
'You're curious about the Derons, eh? Well, after all my years, I still can't put a finger on their behavior. On the surface, they seem weak and feeble, mostly docile. But sometimes they turn violent and dangerous. And yet… there are time when they come to buy from me, I wonder why you yourself haven't".
Hearing this you'd clear your throat and walk away from him
If you pressed on and asked an old woman sitting on the slope, she would look at you and say quietly:
'Little is known of the Derons, and even less is understood. There's a tale that they were born from a grieving star, though it sounds like a child's story. All I can tell you is this: if you ever meet a Deron standing on its hind legs, do not flaunt your soul. That will only enrage them.'
Naturally, you would ask her what she means by 'flaunt my soul.'
She would meet your eyes indifferently and answer with only two words:
'Don't be alive.'*
The Chronicles of Hand Zekiel, Vol. I: The Derons
The girl closed the book with a wistful sigh and looked at her brother, who had been listening closely.
"There's no point to this book if the writer says absolutely nothing the whole way through."
One of the boys nearby laughed.
"I don't know, Anna. It was entertaining in its own way—his style, that is."
Anna smirked, amused.
"Who knew Hand Zekiel was such a terrible writer? But I get what you mean, Roy."
Roy nodded. "We can't ignore the historical value, though. It might help with our project on the history of Ur and its neighbors."
At that moment, a feminine voice called from the house:
"Kids, come inside! The clouds are about to burst. I don't want my little angels sick before the Festival of Aaro Eeu."
Hearing their mother's voice, Roy and Anna dashed inside. Anna paused only long enough to return the Chronicle of Zekiel carefully to the library shelf.