Reia- A Novella (COMPLETE)

A Story Continues...

A man and a woman scaled down the rocky wall into the valley below. The man reached the bottom, looking across the landscape with a wary eye. There was a small trickling waterfall into a crystal pond to his right and a ruined-looking structure to his left. The earth was overgrown with weeds and wildflowers, and herds of tiny creatures scampered away at the man's approach.

He kept silent as he and his companion approached the ruined shed in the center. Somewhere off to the side were the remains of an old henhouse, buried beneath the flowers. But the man didn't even notice. He stepped cautiously onto the deck, where soggy boards bent and buckled underfoot.

The door was hanging off of its hinges, opening dejectedly into a depressing interior. The most recognizable structure in the single room was the stone fireplace, but it too was covered in vines and moss and was falling apart.

The ceiling had caved in some time ago and the old attic was visible. Above that, the beams of the rotting roof jutted out like ribs against the the darkening sky. Books that had once been stored up above now littered the ground. These, however, seemed in fine condition, save for being a little worn from reading. They were not wet, nor rotted, nor missing any pages, which the two found to be very strange. The man picked up a leather-bound book which was smaller than the others. He opened it and began to read aloud- it was a journal, written long ago in the ancient language by someone named Morai. Meanwhile, the woman gathered up the other books and leafed through them halfheartedly.

They sat together for hours, translating the story of the strange ancient scientist, Morai Paira. The man came to the part of the journal where its author was writing about a plan to change the world with a string of words. He paused. The man's stomach turned.

Hearing him stop, the woman's eyes drifted away from the notebook she was reading. She watched the man curiously.

The man rubbed his chin. "Karro," he muttered, looking down. "There's a bit of a loophole here, I think. I wonder..."

"What... do you mean by that?" the woman asked, tilting her head.

"I've got a thought. But it's complicated, and I don't plan on explaining it now," he said, with the authoritative finality of a death sentence. Then he chuckled, even though laughter felt very out of place.

It grew late in the evening, so they built a fire in the remains of the fireplace, and sat on the cold floor talking over Morai Paira's life. The two of them discussed the word strings at length, looking through the books and not daring to say them aloud.

The man picked up the thickest book. It was the one referenced so often in the scientist's journals- the one with that horrifying word string that turned people into monsters.

He took it in one hand with the journal in the other, looking past the hearth into the flames.

Without another pause, he dropped the thick book into the fire.