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|The City (standard:travel stories, 8406 words)
|Added: Nov 13 2010
|Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
|A group travels towards their doom in a tale of sinister delight.
The City S. J. Hjellum 1 The nation of Nuevial holds a dark, evil secret, a secret city lost through the ages. At one time a name was given to this city, but due to wars and conquests the name has been forgotten. Travelers to Territories hear tales of a city of Purgatory, of Death, of Madness. Some scholars who were around at the time of the City's demise, some 200 years ago, still live, but do not speak of the horrors that occurred. But naturally rumours are plenty abound. Of Nuevial, it is a large and vast country, where the wild-tribes are found, feasting on the land. And Nuevial is quite advanced, where the entire nation is educated and science, known as the “best” magic, has put out great potential. The people are free to do as they please, and they are a mainly peaceful nation, with a well-equipped military ready to strike fear into the hearts and souls of their enemies, which are not many, but few. To foreigners, the Capital City's title is translated to mean “Light”. If this in turn means that the Nuevians term for darkness is where one can find the Forbidden City's title, it has not been told to me, but those of whom I have mentioned who were there 200 years ago and have survived, they would surely know of the answer to that particular question which still baffles me. And these few live and reside in far-off places from here where I write this documentation of what I witnessed some years ago. 2 I have seen it all and have been every place, traveled to distant reaches of my planet and sampled local cuisine, viewed all the lights, smelled all the smells, tasted, touched, heard all that there is to hear, taste, smell and touch. My adventures are known to many folks, and to that distant land that some both love and hate, Nuevial, my travels have become very legendary. Because I have become well known, I am very much feared and admired. And that is the least of my troubles. My travels began long ago about eighty years before. I have to admit that I am quite old. Well, young enough to many wiser men, at the age of one hundred fifty years, time and patience has become necessary. One becomes a full adult at the age of fifty years, at least for man. (Women attain maturity at sixty years, so you'd believe.) Some remember being a child, even as they age on to well around four hundred years. Most Nuevians live as long lives as four thousand, or so I am informed. I don't reall know to whom I am writing to, but this story absolutely must be told. The world as I one knew (and who gives such a caring thought about the natural land anyway? Certainly not a majority who reside in this world that I am on at any rate. They care about their imperfect lives, and their spoiled ways (children were more respectful of their elders when I was seventy-five!)) is coming to a close, possibly due to what I will reveal in these very pages. 3 It is hard to imagine a freer, more open environment than the territory of Nuevial. The constant hustle and bustle of the karavenars as they traveled between the Dock-City of Jaireed on the far eastern edge of the Great Salty Sea to the West and the Capital-City of Enchiant (which means “light”), who allowed the trader-merchants to sell their wares (and believe me, they were cunning men, wise enough to be aware of what you wanted and what you wanted not, for them it was not hard.) Nuevial, well truth told as it be told, was very free from wars, persecution and such of all kinds. In point of fact, on the planet of Tiearra Tchcotia, there were a number of places left alone from racial hatred or malice of any kind. The rest of the world was divided, some territories and nations were diplocratic, others were totalitaric, and the rest nuetral. And Nuevial was of the latter class of regions. There really was not a reason to hate or fear brother in that land. What was the point of it when you could be free? Click here to read the rest of this story (763 more lines)
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