The Sight of the Blind
The world was born long ago, created by the great spider named Cuvulien. But in its creation, the world bore a certain something that is not told of in the usual stories of the beginning of time. In its creation, a prophecy was woven into the fiery web of fate, a prophecy that has long been forgotten.
In the city of Lorwelnún, in the land of Nalincim, there was a vast library, containing scrolls and books dating to the very birth of Men. This city was in its youth the home of the King Tímal, one of the seven kings and seven queens that Cuvulien created in the beginning, and some of these histories were written by him, for he was a great writer and teller of stories. There is one scroll in the libraries of Lorwelnún, written by Tímal, which tells of the prophecy.
A man named Dorlín walked through the great stone halls of the Library of Lorwelnún, his footsteps echoing on the grey stone floor. It was late, and everyone but this man had long since gone to bed. He carried a lamp, filled with oil, which flickered and cast eerie shadows upon the walls. Dorlín was a librarian, and, though one of lesser rank, he had the key to the Third Library, and intended to go there to study. He had waited until late at night, so that he might study in silence and peace.
Dorlín was a man more concerned with his books than with people, and he avoided them whenever possible. This seemed to be a general characteristic of the keepers of the Library, though some were more sociable. Dorlín was not one of them.
He was descended from a noble family by the name of ĺlamlín, who had lived in Lorwelnún for centuries and bred a long line of librarians and scholars. Dorlín's grandfather was the Head Librarian, a coveted position that Dorlín was expected to someday assume. He had little interest in the job, mostly because it meant more responsibilities and less time to spend studying. It also meant that he would have to spend more time around people. The only asset to being Head Librarian that he could see was that he would be given the keys to all the libraries, even the Fifth and most ancient of them.
Turning the corner, Dorlín reached the great doors to the Third Library. He pulled the large key from the folds of his blue robes that designated a librarian of the third rank, and inserted it in the keyhole. With a small click, the door opened, and swung inward. The man stepped inside the room, and shut the door behind himself. He lit the lamp that hung over a nearby table, and began to wander down the rows of shelves that held the books of history. Each scroll was labeled along its edge in the flowing script used in most writing. The script was comprised of a series of curled lines and dots, meant for writing the primary language spoken in these lands, Virenyal.
Dorlín held up his lantern, peering at the titles on the scrolls in the dim light. He wandered down the long aisle between the shelves that towered far too high to reach, stuffed with books. There were titles such as Birds and Beasts of the Talnyarlinan, Tales of the Old Age, and Ten Years in the Elethanyarín. None of them sounded exceedingly interesting.
The man continued to wander through the library, occasionally picking up a book and leafing through it, but not finding anything he felt inclined to read the detail of. Finally, when he felt it would be wise to give up his search for something to read and go back to his room and to bed, he came across a book entitled Prophecies of the Wild Ages. The Wild Ages were the three ages before the birth of humankind in the world called Elíma in which only the animals had lived, before the spider Cuvulien thought to give life to humans. It was rare to find any account of the days before the coming of Men, for there was no way to know for certain any events of those times, except by dreams and visions.
Dorlín pulled the book from the shelf, and picking up his lantern brought it back to his table in the front of the library. He sat down in a straight-backed rather uncomfortable chair, though he didn't notice it, and opened the book. A puff of dust blew out into his face; the book had evidently not been opened in far too long. Clearing away the dust, he strained to read the faded print.
Prophecies of the Wild Ages
Written by King Tímal of Lorwelnún
In the year 94 of the O.A. (Old Age)
Excitedly, Dorlín turned the page to read the introduction to the book. This was even better than he had thought. A book written by none other than King Tímal, and written in the first century O.A. It occurred to Dorlín to wonder why something of this sort was not kept in the Fourth Library, or even the Fifth, being so old as it was. But he had no intention of notifying his grandfather of it; for the old man would only take the book away before he had a chance to read anything of it.
There are few things remembered of the ages before the birth of Men, and it is rare for me to find something of the sort. But I have been extraordinarily lucky in this matter, for I have been told of the prophecy that Cuvulien, great spider that she is, wove into the web of fate that holds up our world. This prophecy is one of great importance in the matter of the future of Elíma, and we would all do well to remember it. The prophecy is as follows:
When sun and moon rise and cross in the sky,
A child will be born, one that should not die.
The child will be powerful, so keep them from harm,
They will be blind, but do not ring alarm.
This is their fate, as Cuvulien tells,
So the one will be born, among the silver shells.
So the one will be born, among the silver shells. Dorlín felt his mind ring with those powerful words. They had so much meaning, it seemed, but made very little real sense. He got the strange feeling that some movement in the shadows of the earth was beginning; some fate was being set in motion, now that this prophecy had been rediscovered. Something was beginning. He could feel it.
The world was about to change.