The Forgottens

The Forgottens The young warrior couldn’t sleep… The wind outside howled like a Jagar and he could find no rest under his rugged blanket. He kept thinking at the Citadel of Dust. All those men and women. Why didn’t they listen to the tribe? Why nobody ever listen to them? They called them weak and coward, they felt safe behind their walls. He could still hear the screams in the burning wind. “Don’t look back” the seer told him “Don’t ever look back. There is no courage in arrogance, no lesson to be learned from their deaths. You will be a warrior of the tribe one day and you must always look forward.” He sat in his tattered bed and peered outside the cave to the barren landscape. The storm was still raging, the darkness of the night suddenly enlightened by occasional bolts. He crawled outside , his limbs strangely tensed, his soul full of anticipation. He came out in the turbolent night, the wind blowing so fiercely that he almost struggled to stand straight. The other tribes and people they found during their unending travels always feared the storms, they hid from the thunders and some even cursed the lightnings as bad omens but not his people, not the Aedel. The Forgottens were the only one who remembered the Old Promise. Another distant bolt enlightened the sky, allowing him to notice the twisted figure of Guala, the venerable seer, standing at his side. “Are you afraid young warrior?” “I’m not a warrior wise one, not yet. The Patriarch will not accept me in the Inner Circle until I prove myself worthy.” Guala chuckled “Does it mean you are afraid?” “No.” The Seer inspired deeply peering in the darkness in front of him. “Good” He was clutching something in his hands and the young man watched in awe while he unfurled the object from the folds of his mantle, revealing a sword’s hilt and offering it to him. He felt his throat suddenly dry but he found the courage to mutter “This is sacrilege. This blade belongs to tribe’s chosen, a true Ridder, I…” Guala didn’t let him finish “The blade comes from another time and another place.It travelled through the aeges and the stars. It doesn’t belong to anybody but a warrior belongs to it.

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An Age of Sigmar fan made short story

Transcript of The Forgottens

The Forgottens

The young warrior couldn’t sleep… The wind outside howled like a Jagar and he could find no rest under his rugged blanket. He kept thinking at the Citadel of Dust. All those men and women. Why didn’t they listen to the tribe? Why nobody ever listen to them? They called them weak and coward, they felt safe behind their walls. He could still hear the screams in the burning wind.“Don’t look back” the seer told him “Don’t ever look back. There is no courage in arrogance, no lesson to be learned from their deaths. You will be a warrior of the tribe one day and you must always look forward.”He sat in his tattered bed and peered outside the cave to the barren landscape. The storm was still raging, the darkness of the night suddenly enlightened by occasional bolts.He crawled outside , his limbs strangely tensed, his soul full of anticipation. He came out in the turbolent night, the wind blowing so fiercely that he almost struggled to stand straight.The other tribes and people they found during their unending travels always feared the storms, they hid from the thunders and some even cursed the lightnings as bad omens but not his people, not the Aedel. The Forgottens were the only one who remembered the Old Promise.Another distant bolt enlightened the sky, allowing him to notice the twisted figure of Guala, the venerable seer, standing at his side.“Are you afraid young warrior?”“I’m not a warrior wise one, not yet. The Patriarch will not accept me in the Inner Circle until I prove myself worthy.”Guala chuckled“Does it mean you are afraid?”“No.”The Seer inspired deeply peering in the darkness in front of him.“Good”He was clutching something in his hands and the young man watched in awe while he unfurled the object from the folds of his mantle, revealing a sword’s hilt and offering it to him. He felt his throat suddenly dry but he found the courage to mutter “This is sacrilege. This blade belongs to tribe’s chosen, a true Ridder, I…” Guala didn’t let him finish “The blade comes from another time and another place.It travelled through the aeges and the stars. It doesn’t belong to anybody but a warrior belongs to it.There were signs, you know? And they have pointed to you. Can’t you hear Mighty Sigger calling you in the wind?”A thunder lowly rumbled in the sky.“Take this weapon. The God King needs you to honour the Old Promise”“He needs…ME?”The Seer gazed at him seriously.“You have seen, young warrior. Nobody remebers anymore. They call us the Forgottens but they are the ones who forgot the Promise. That is why Mighty Sigger only talks to us. That is why we do not fear the storm. Take the weapon! It will return to us when the time is right”“Will I, venerable one? Will I ever return to my people”The Seer suddenly changed expression and he turned his gaze away from the young warrior.“I don’t know the answer to this question”

Watching him going away the Seer felt suddenly guilty. Why did he lie to him? He did know the answer to the youth question. “Yes young warrior, you will be back.” He muttered to the fading shadows