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Manuscript 13

from Ijumadasce by Zeffon

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iv. Manuscript 13

Roanin made it to the cabin, where Rowland was waiting.

"You made it, sir."

"Yes." Roanin panted slightly, having run the last quarter-mile or so. It appeared that Rowland had a book on the table. Scribbled on the open page was the following:

On this day, RTL was born.
On this day, RTL died.
And though she passed away long ago.
It is a mere husk that continues to live.

And with this final writing,
It is I, Thorn Ansede, the author of our story thus far,
Who will pass away as well.

May my words be interpreted as metaphor
And not fact.

"Is that the Disynxiym?" asked Roanin.

"It is indeed. I don't quite remember this passage being here." Rowland flipped through a couple more pages. "Is that the longbow?"

Roanin handed Rowland the mysterious object. Covered in vines and moss, it didn't seem like an object that Dränsilane would've used recently.

"Wow. I didn't quite expect it to be in this bad of shape. But you see those letters there?" said Rowland, thumbing some carvings in the rotten wood. "Those are Unkardian runes. Plus, this looks to be quite old."

"So if Dränsilane used this ancient bow, it must mean that he is from the past?" Roanin paced slightly, trying to understand. "Can you travel through time?"

"I don't know," said Rowland. "I just know that there's something incredibly odd about how this book seems to keep writing itself."

~

Caria eventually made it to a small village by nightfall. The townsfolk greeted her warmly, but she felt that they had other intentions.

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from Ijumadasce, released October 19, 2013

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Zeffon Renton, Washington

:9:9:9...

Don't you dare even tend to catalog what lurks ominously in the dark...

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