About Ebmundis

Don’t ask me what is going to happen. I know things will get worse, much worse. That much I have seen. But beyond that?

What you are about to read, was written from memory over a period of five, perhaps six months; every word, every scene, recalled from dreams and many a sleepless, restless night.

I have woken up deeply angry and hostile at the world, while at other times perfectly at ease and content, elated even. That is, until I see paper scattered about the floor. Written in darkness and read in light, sentences veer off ruled lines, words shrink and become bloated as they progress, letters become more mangled. Everything has left me constantly wondering if what I have written down is either a vision of some distant future, or some long forgotten past reaching out to me from hidden depths.

And what have I seen so far? I have witnessed the beginnings of something cataclysmic. I have watched friends, brothers, sons and fathers turn on each other. I have seen the rise and fall of men and their domains and I can sense a dark hand in these affairs, a mind intent on turning their blood black. Some will fight back while others cower.

And how to tell friend from foe? I believe Giscard can be trusted, and perhaps, Farzih. Not because they are a good men, far from it, but they do have some notion of loyalty, a code, I feel can’t be questioned. Besides, there is no place for good men in this world, not with what is about to occur or has already.

And then there’s the likes of Arman, Merrin and Filliš whom I am still undecided on. Time will tell, I suppose. Ebmundis.

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