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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/410338-Chapter-8
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by locke Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Book · Fantasy · #1077588
This is the first part of my nine part thrilogy. PLEASE RATE!
#410338 added March 3, 2006 at 4:48am
Restrictions: None
Chapter 8
Chapter 8

"Welcome, Lorian." Spoke a voice softly. I opened my eyes. "I am Mnemosyne. I have been waiting a long time to meet you." Spoke the voice again. I looked around. I was standing in what appeared to be an old, sunken ship. I could even see out the windows and look out at the fish.
"Where am I?" I asked.
"You are aboard the sunken ship Lusitania, off the coast of Ireland. One thousand one hundred and ninety-eight people lost their lives when this ship was sunk. Thirty-seven of those killed were senior members of The Council."
"Why are you telling me this? And, how long have you been waiting for me?" I queried.
"I am telling you these facts so as to put you on your guard. The Society does not care about the loss of innocent lives, nor does it care about the amount of destruction it creates in order to achieve its goals." She paused. "And, I have been waiting for one thousand, nine hundred and thirty-eight years, two hundred and ninety-seven days and one hour and twelve minutes."
I looked at her incredulously. It was only then that I realized that I could see though her, as if she was a ghost.
"What are you?"
She paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer. Then she said,
"I am a memory. A memory of the real Mnemosyne but also I am a guardian of a certain type of knowledge. Knowledge that can only be passed on to the chosen one."
"Why are you here to pass on information that should already be known to the chosen one?"
"The Master Sovereign, Zeus knew that the chosen one would forget what he was supposed to remember, so he had me stay here and wait until the chosen one would be ready to visit me."
"Do you mean me?"
"Maybe, maybe not. There is a test to see if you are truly the chosen one. Answer my riddle and you will be given all to remember."
"And if I fail?" I asked, hoping she wouldn't say what I think she's going to say.
"It would best if I did not answer that. Would you like to here the riddle?"
"Okay, go ahead."

"What is held in high esteem?
Divided into two, for he and the queen?"

My mouth fell open. How in the world am I going to answer that? Correctly! Oh hell. Hold on, get a grip on yourself. You’re the chosen one. You will know the answer. I though to myself. Right okay, err,
"What is held in high esteem? Err, dunno that part. Divided into two, Nope. For he and the queen. Well if there's a queen involved that means there's usually a king involved." I looked up at Mnemosyne, she nodded approvingly.
"Okay, so what is divided into two for a king and queen and it's also got to be held in high esteem. Riches. Wait no the chosen one wouldn't say that. Oh god I wish I was in Elysium, then I could go and ask Zeus for the bloody answer." Suddenly a memory flashed into my mind. "Elysium is the kingdom of all the god's,"
The room seemed to light up. Abruptly I realised. What does a king and queen hold in great esteem and what is divided between them. It's obvious.
"Kingdom." I said, to the phantom.
"Correct." She replied, smiling. "Now hold on tight, this might hurt slightly."
Next thing I know my head's spinning like crazy. I feel like I'm gonna be sick. The room spin's faster and faster. Until I fall flat on my face, straight onto a four-poster bed.

I wake up to the sound of bird's singing. Christ! My nose hurt's like hell, what the hell happened last night? A flood of memories flow into my mind. Oh now I remember. I get up and stumble over to the mirror on the chest of drawers. Oh hell! My face look's like crap. Abruptly my face in the mirror starts to change colour in the mirror. What the hell! First purple, now it's going a sickly green sort of colour. Until it finally stops changing colour until it resembles that of...well that brown stuff that everyone has to get rid of once and a while. Oh hell! This is not happening. It's was then that I realized that I did say my face look's like crap. Maybe if I...
"My face look's like one hell of a full English breakfast." I say to myself. I look up into the mirror; I wait for a moment then realize that nothing's going to happen, until my face start's to change just as I turn to leave. My head now resembles that of two fried eggs, a tomato for a nose and a triangular piece of toast for a mouth. This is going to be fun. I thought to myself, returning my face to its original composition.

"Hello again, Lorian." Spoke The Steward, smiling. "I hear you've had an interesting day."
"Yes, very Interesting." I reply, smirking.
"Yes...well. In light of what has been happening in the last Three day's we have decided to bring the meeting forward."
"When?" I asked, pointedly.
"Now." He replied. "Or to be more precise, one hour from now. There are a few things that I need to go through with you. Firstly, there are twelve members of The Council and they will be announced with name and rank to you accordingly. Secondly, there are many things on the agenda at this meet, including the discussion and tactical advice that we will give you. Finally, you will also be given a rank on the Council."
"Why?"
"Why what?" He asked.
"Why are you giving me a rank in the council?"
"Well...you see there are those in the council, who can never take someone's word on something, they always need some sort of proof. I'm giving you this rank just to give you a bit of clout. I'm warning you though Lorian," He said, in a cautionary voice. "I am one of the twelve on the council, I may be nice to you now, but I will show no prejudice in the meet towards you. But, don't worry; I'm still on your side." He said, smiling.

"After me." Said The steward, standing up and striding towards the door. We walked for many minute's until we came to a very cold wine cellar. The Steward walked towards a chest for holding wine in the far corner of the room. I followed him. He stood there for a moment and looked at the case. Then he spoke in just a whisper.
"Faber est quisgue fortunae suae." And with that the chest arose out of the ground and opened up into a small doorway leading underground.
"What does that mean?" I asked, inquisitively.
"It mean's 'we are all architects of our own fortunes.'" He replied.
I didn't understand, but I really didn't care.
We walked for another quarter of an hour, in the deepening tunnel below the surface. After a few moments the tunnel started to bend to the right and I saw light at the end of the tunnel. I continued walking for a few more minutes until we reached the end. We stepped out of the opening. I walked into the bright light; The Steward turned around to face me, and said.
"Welcome to the council chamber's, Lorian."
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