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Written by Deoxian

Wheel of the Gods


Preview written by Deoxian, full story is yet to be written.

Not for distribution!


Written by Deoxian

Chapter I: Dead man’s trash is another man’s treasure


EVAN: “The second day of chains clanking against the cold stone walls... Is this the life I have chosen?”

Two guards shout in the distance, “Where do we put this scum of a human”, “We ran out of room a long time ago...”, “I guess there's
an empty room near that new thief we brought in a few days ago.”, “But he could just walk out!”, “Don’t worry. We’ll break his legs.”

A small, almost mute voice tried to say “...no...” and “...mercy...” but was overshadowed by a terrible scream that reverberated for
what felt like hours. Evan tried to cover his ears, but the almost animalistic scream pierced his hands and lodged itself in his soul. He
closed his eyes and small, white tears ran down his cheek and into his beard. For some reason, these tears felt like all the water in his
body had escaped, as his beard collected more and more of his tears and slowly put Evan to sleep.
As Evan wakes up, not quite sure if that horrible scream really happened, he hears the same small voice from the other side of his cell.
He felt his spine almost twist as his stomach began to turn and Evan shivered.

The voice whispers, “Hello... Hello.”, “Can you lend me an ear?”

Evan’s heart stops as he mutters in a shaky voice...

Evan: “Y...yes? Yes! I will listen, I am here.”


Voice: “Thank the gods.”, “Listen... I don’t have much time left in this world, you have to take something from me. They must
not find it!”

Evan is still shaken by the person’s scream from earlier, but there's something different about it now.

Evan: “W..wait... Your voice is normal now. Weren’t your legs broken by the guards? How come you are not in a world of
hurt?”
Voice: “That's the reason you have to take this thing away from me. I don’t have time to explain to you how it works, but
please just trust me!”

Suddenly there is no more noise in the dungeon. No squeaking of mice. No birdsong. Nothing but a heartbeat that gets louder and
closer. The voice from the other side of the wall whispers...

Voice: “Quick, quick, ... take this! I am begging you.”

He pushes something between the small cracks, almost reaching the other side of the wall. Evan notices this and tries to scrape at the
cold and mossy cobblestone wall, but this thing, whatever it is, will not penetrate any further. Evan mutters hurriedly.

Evan: “...humf... It’s stuck...”


Voice: “No time! They are here!”

The silence is broken by soft footsteps and a cold, cold breeze. All the torches suddenly become weaker than before, until there is
almost no light left. A cloaked figure almost scurries past Evan’s cell, ignoring him as if he was not even there. Its footsteps are quiet
but strange. It stops briefly behind the wall and speaks in a deep, cold voice that makes Evan shiver and weirdly make his eyes water
in a strange way.

Ghostly figure: “Time. Is. Up. Gregory”, ”The wheel. Will. Go. Back.”
Gregory: “I have nothing for you ghost.”, “You will never get it from me”.
Ghost figure: “Hmm... Do not think. What. You. Are doing. Is noble.”, “We. Always. Get. What. We. Want.”

The earth shakes and a ball of light hits the wall behind Gregory, hitting every crack, blinding and startling Evan so that he backs
away a little. The wall bangs and bangs as if it had been fired at by a catapult, and finally the old cobblestone wall gives in to the
bombardment and explodes. A huge cloud of smoke fills the already dark dungeon and all light disappears. With the exception of the
faint, light blue glow of the place where the ghost must have been standing. As the dense smoke quickly clears, Evan realizes that the
gunfire is Gregory, who has been thrown against the hard wall. Gregory lies dead in a small pile of rubble covering his face and legs.
His eyes appear to have no color, accompanied by small blue veins near his temples.

Not for distribution!


Written by Deoxian

Evan cringes back in fear and horror at what just happened, looking at the corpse of the voice he just met. His heart beats faster and
faster as his eyes look up, trembling at what they might see, but as his eyes go higher, they soon hit the ceiling of the dungeon. The
ghost has disappeared. Evan leans against the wall, shocked and frightened, but his heart is still beating faster, and soon he loses
consciousness. As his right hand falls down by his side, he taps the object Gregory has placed in the gap, the object begins to glow and
makes a high-pitched noise.

Evan wakes up in a cold sweat and screams, “Wha... what was that?
Whe..where am I?” as he scans himself from head to toe. Another prisoner
screams, “Oh, stop screaming!” and Evan hears the other prisoner
mumble, “...crying sob...”. Evan thinks to himself: “Did I just imagine
that? Was that real?”

As he shifts his body weight forward from the cloth he called his bed, he
realizes that his right hand is somehow heavier. The right hand begins to
itch and he goes into a kind of panicked or even manic scratching rage,
cutting and scratching the skin with his nails, which begin to collect
blood. Then a symbol appears on the palm of his hand, glowing golden
yellow in the shape of a wagon wheel. Evan’s heart beats faster and he
panics even more. He holds his hand as far away from his face as
possible, thinking it will explode as the light becomes harder and harder
to see. But then, in the blink of an eye, the light emanating from his hand
is no longer there. Startled, he looks up from the ball he had
unintentionally curled up in to look at his hand and realizes that all the
cuts and bruises have disappeared. He is puzzled by the incident that has
occurred, but even more puzzled by what he feels. He feels relieved
because a great burden has been lifted from him, one he does not even know what it is. His gaze falls on a hole in the castle wall that
he hadn’t noticed before. The sunlight, barely shining through, begins to change colors from all spectrums from red to violet. He pulls
himself together and relizes that he is in a prison cell when he hears two guards talking a long way off, but he hears them anyway as
they were right next to him.

Guards: “I’ve tried everything. I even took her to the castle’s alchemist, but he couldn’t help her. What am I supposed to do?
maybe.. I shudder at the thought... but she's in pain... I could take her to the river and... you know...”,”Pull yourself together! You’ll
figure it out. You have to stay strong as a family. Tell you what. You work this shift and I’ll buy you a beer at the inn and we’ll work
this out. Does that sound good?”, “Yeah, I think so...”.

The guard now enters the prison and it seems to take an eternity before he reaches the dungeon floor where Evan is. Finally, he enters
the room and carries out the usual examination of the prisoners, which he feels he has already done a million times. He mumbles to
himself: “Chains... check, shackles... check, lock... check, water... uh... check...”, as he does with each cell. Evan’s cell is the last one.
He starts to say:

Guard: “Chains.. check, lock... chec...” Evan interrupts, standing up faster than someone low on food and water should.
Evan: “You have a sick daughter, right.”
Guard: “What the f... What? Shut up and don’t make me hit you!”
Evan: “There's a very common herb that can cure what I’ve heard your daughter has.”
The guard steps closer to the cell so that his body is leaning against the bars and says, “Listen, you pathetic goblin. I don’t know where
you heard that, but it’s not true. Either you shut up or I’ll make you bite a brick!”
Evan: “It’s called purple vetch, with about 8-12 leaflets shaped like a bell. Make her some tea from it and your daughter will
be fine in the morning.”
The guard draws his sword and thrusts it through the cell directly at Evan’s throat: “Be. Quiet!”. Evan seems to agree completely and
calmly follows the guard’s order, sitting down on the left side of the cell, as the guard is not even there. He wraps his arms around his
knees, but his head is proudly pointing upwards.
The guard’s eyes water a little, because there is hope for healing his heavy heart, but he remains calm and speaks in a dominant voice:
“I thought so!”.

... To be continued.

Not for distribution!

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