Elfwood is the worlds largest SciFi & Fantasy community.
- 151362 members, 1 online now.
- 14945 site visitors the last 24 hours.
Set in a world where there is an apocalypse ever 100 years. The main character is appointed by the gods to the position of Keeper of Knowledge, meaning that he is the only one that knows the full history of the world. It is his duty to guide the world in the right direction for the next 100 years, until the gods decide that it is once again time to cause an apocalypse. However, the main character doesn't want to deal with such a thing again, and tries to find a way to stop the gods from destroying his home.
(An Unwitting Hero)
by Genevieve Noling and Demetrius Holmes
Deep in the night, it came. It came upon the wings of the night breeze, sweeping through the bodies of the living things that slept on, unawares. Only those who remained awake were left untouched, and then, only because it amused those responsible for this epidemic.
It was the Angel of Death, and those at the receiving end died instantly.
Living beings weren't the only things that were affected. Any books, or printed documents, or knowledge held in the minds of people, regarding new or revolutionary ideas, were wiped clean, leaving only the objects themselves, as evidence that they existed. As the epidemic swept through the world, it left no knowledge completely unscathed -
– well, almost none.
Once it had finished its first job, the Angel made it's way up a hill to a manor, seeking the old man living there – the only human left with full knowledge of the past. The Angel of Death - Izrah Surabomn was its name, though the Angel had no gender – found the man lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The Angel now took a material form, and stepped up to the man's bed.
“Do it. Get it over with.” The old man's eyes never looked away from the straight gaze he held. Without any feeling or interest in the thought, Izrah Surabomn realized that the man was blind.
“Name your heir,” the Angel said.
“Why?” asked the old man bitterly. “The person I name will only face the same fate as me.”
“You must name your heir. You have trained him, now you must name him.” The Angel's voice was dead – an ironically apt description.
“. . . Fine. I name my heir as Salunoki Sokolof.” The old man's face showed his reluctance to say this. “Now do it and get it over with!” His voice registered his desperate desire.
The Angel closed the man's eyes before he left, returning the next night to find the man's named heir, and then, after that, never to be seen again.
Not until a hundred years later.