The Fallen God
Book Two
of
Nomads of the Gods
By
Gary Mark Lee
Illustrations by Gary Mark Lee
At
Copyright by the author 2013
Table of Contents
Title Page
Mindlock
Chapter 1 The Last of its Kind
Chapter 2. A New Day
Chapter 3. Glory or Death
Chapter 4. The Waste Wanderer
Chapter 5. Reborn
Chapter 6. Flesh and Steel
Chapter 7. The Path of Pain
Chapter 8. The Sandjar
Chapter 9. The Sky Gods
Chapter 10. The Trap
Chapter 11. The Wall
Chapter 12. God of the Outlands
Chapter 13. The Choosing
Chapter 14. The Norgonie
Chapter 15. The Toys of Isarie
Chapter 16. Friend and Foe
Chapter 17. The Offering of Rowgal
Chapter 18. The Graveyard
Chapter 19. Questions
Chapter 20. Lords of the Greenwoods
Chapter 21. Fang and Claw
Chapter 22. The Watcher on the Mound
Chapter 23. Answers
Chapter 24. Eyes in the Darkness
Chapter 25. Deaths Shadow
Table of Contents (cont.)
Chapter 26. Dreams and Death
Chapter 27. Battle of the Titans
Chapter 28. Awakenings
Chapter 29. The Undying God
Chapter 30. The Chase
Chapter 31. The Forbidden City
Chapter 32. The Fall of the Talsonar
Chapter 33. The God Machine
Chapter 34. The Child
Chapter 35. Man and Machine
Chapter 36. The Giants of the Earth
Chapter 37. Power and Pain
Chapter 38. The Land of Smokes
Chapter 39. The Marchers of Death
Chapter 40. Prayers Answered
Chapter 41. The Valley of Despair
Chapter 42. The Coming Storm
Chapter 43. A Call to War
Chapter 44. The Fires of Doom
Chapter 45. The Mother of Voices
Chapter 46. Light and Dark
Chapter 47. When Gods Die
Chapter 48. The Pyre
Chapter 49. The Vow
Chapter 50. The Search
Chapter 51. Sunbirth
Map of Gorn
About the Author
MINDLOCK
My name is Oshismarie Inastro Sistashion, I’m sure that name, means nothing to you. It is correct to say that I was once content to live my life in the quite darkness of obscurity, to die in peace and nothing more. The Gods had other plans for me, and I was moved by their hands to be reborn on a far off world known as Gorn, there I found a new life and a new purpose.
I now have spent many cycles traveling with the wandering Nomads, in those long days and nights I have come to know their ways and their Gods very well. They are a great people in spite of their rather primitive beliefs and superstitions, without their help I would have perished a long time ago.
They have told me many stories, stories of past glories and the lives of those that went before them. I cannot say for certain if they are true or only legends that have been handed down from generation to generation. In my many years as a Cipher, I have come to realize that legend is often mistaken for truth, and that those who believe in myths are often only dreaming of things that might have been.
What does it matter?
I am very old now and have lived far beyond my time, my mind is not that of a Frail Leg, for I can still remember everything as if it was only yesterday. The crystal spiders have given me Rebirth and I am thankful for their gift, age alone is not the value of a life. It comes from what your days and nights are filled with, and what that time has meant to others.
I was once privy to the great secrets of the galaxy, for my mind has linked with Talaxion's computers and Datacoms on many far off worlds in the Outer Rim. I have calculated the number of stars in the heavens, and the time it takes for a single tear to fall, I was one of many, and when I was outcast from that life no one noticed my passing.
Now I sit and tell stories to all that will listen, the small children of the Madrigal gather about me and clap their hands and call out my name, and I know that they wish a tale from me. You who read this might not believe what I have to say is true, I will say that I bare scars form the bit of creatures that dwell only in nightmares. My eyes have looked into the darkness and seen things that no one can understand. I can recite verses from ancient carvings in stone that were put there long before the great Lightships traveled between worlds. I have watched in awe as the giant Earth-shakers walked the land like Gods, Making the ground scream under their feet, and I can hear a voice that lives deep in the earth and know that I am not alone.
I watched as the Heart of Shawcona rose into the sky and joined with the castoff fragments of a world. Giving birth to form a new moon and giving hope to all those who now look up to see it in the night.
I have wandered all the lands of Gorn and felt the heat of the Burning Time and the cold hand of the Iceland’s. I have sweated in the haunted forests of Yug and sat beside the primitive ape-men who rule that forbidden realm. I have seen the great Wind ships sail over the deep oceans of the Western Sea and heard the sound of the mighty Leviathans as they called out in the crushing darkness of the endless depths. I have walked with the warriors of the Caltarine forests and feasted with them in their stone walled fortress. I have sat and wept as I helped bury those that were close to me.
All these I can say with pride, it is nothing when compared to the life of those they call Moric-Kan, the Twin Dragons. It is the tales of the Nomad King named Arn and his Queen called Andra that I will speak off. Their story is one of glory and honor and will live far beyond the simple words that I have written down. So come and sit beside the Washa fire and I will fill your cup with sour Po; we can feast on succulent Rimar and warm Kasha bread, and taste the sweet fruit of the Balbar tree.
We will dance under the walking Moons and listen to the pounding of the mating drums as they fill our souls with fire. We will close our eyes in fear at the wailing of demons in the darkness and pray to the God of destiny that they do not take our souls. We will lift our voices in songs to the brave warriors who fought them and sent them screaming back into the eternal flames in the Pit of Marloon. We will stand beside the King and die with glory and smile as the Angel of Death comes for us. We will look into the face of a fallen God and feel the cold embrace of his steel hand; we shall walk beside great warriors long dead and cower before creatures that feast on death and pain. We will lie beside warm bodies, and smell the sweet fragrance of eternal love and, know we are not alone in the universe.
All this and more we will do and the night will pass swiftly. When the suns rise and the sky is filled with a golden light we will remember our dreams of glory and wonder at the Gods who sent us on our paths of life.
The stories, are told by me, an old man waiting to die.
They were written by the Gods.
Nomads The Fallen God Page 1
