The Last Shuriman Sunset - Winners! [fan fic contest results]
http://i.imgur.com/O7uveUw.jpg
#Congratulations to our three winners - SuperLuigiLXIV, Trash Empress, and Nixtarma!
My sincerest apologies for taking so long on the judging - may the Great Weaver, Emperor Xerath, and the Hawk-Father have mercy upon my failings. I bring to you now, some information gleaned from our trip into the history of The Last Shuriman Sunset:
- 67 Entries!
- 26,631 words written, submitted, and read!
- "Sun" was the most popular word, with 144 mentions.
- "Shurima" was the second most popular with 125. (Super sexy word cloud here .)
The entries seem to be getting ever higher in quality, and judging was as crazy difficult as Renekton. Some made me laugh out loud, some made my eyes mist up. Some shocked me, and some made me smile with recognition. Some made me wince at their typos - you know who you are ;P All of them had a spark of inspiration that made me think about Shurima in a new light. Ha. Get it? A new... never mind.
Without further ado, the winning entries!
##Player's Choice Winner (18 Up-Votes): SuperLuigiLXIV
The great Sun Disk glowed as it focused the raw power of the sun into a mortal host. Sometimes, I wondered what the Star Forger would do, were he to learn that his celestial power was being siphoned and used to birth immortals of such power that they could even stand up to his immortal masters. It is an idle thought, something to consider in the times between wars.
Shurima was poised to take over the world itself. This, I could not allow. There was no army on the planet capable of standing up to the empire as it marched. The numbers were nothing. It was a simple feat to turn an average warrior into a raging wave of fury, grant one mortal the power to fight against ten at once. But Shurima's magics made it difficult to turn the tide of battle, even for me. And the brothers would be able to fight me. They lacked the power to kill me, but they were too powerful for me to kill easily. The battle would be a stalemate long after Shurima decimated whatever paltry forces I roused to resist them.
So I had had to take a different approach. An approach that was bearing fruit now—though I stood so far from the empire that the Sun Disc was a mere coin to my eye, I could feel the sudden wrongness in the air. The twisted ritual began to consume the Empire from its heart outwards, the celestial energy from the sun twisting and overloading the magical wards of the Empire.
It took hours for Shurima to be swallowed up entirely.
I stood and watched all of it.
Under a moon that glowed with strange, orange light, I felt the last of the Sun Disk's energy settle, as the great relic was buried by its own power underneath the shifting sands.
Beside me, a whirlpool of water emerged from the solid rock of the mountain.
From it, emerged an ancient evil. He was bloated, his body stretched to its limit from his recent meal. It did not help his otherwise grotesque image. Outwardly, he looked like a rather fat Shuriman merchant, but not the kind to try and sell you fine linens or golden trinkets. No, he had the sleazy look one might find in a back alley. The kind of man who would sell you a slave that he fathered himself, and never bat an eye. Or rather, he partly looked like it. The flesh of his body was sloughing off, great tears in the skin and muscle hanging out. His form was changing. That, more than anything, was proof that Shurima was well and truly gone.
“So much misery today,” he commented idly, rubbing his stomach. “Whispering to the slave was well worth it. I owe you, brother.”
He vanished in the next instant, seeking a new land to call his, a new greed to exploit.
I spread my wings.
There was always another war to fight.
##Player's Choice Winner (17 Up-Votes): Trash Empress
One was a fool and the other a leech, but Anebos could not voice his disdain upon punishment of exile or execution.
The priest merely stood by and did his duties diligently, as if this wasn’t a direct sin against the Sun’s wishes. He anointed long reeds with frankincense and myrrh, lighting them and mumbling the sacred words while Azir disrobed behind him. The Ritual was a protracted process that had dragged on from sun-up to when the sun was highest. It was here that Azir would be bathed by the rest of the Sun’s Priesthood, an act that would wash away all his earthly sins...and Azir had many to rid himself of. The young Emperor spoke the words many had said before him:
“I have not killed unjustly, I have not stolen. I have not turned back to You on your holy days. I have not slandered. I have not polluted myself. I have not forced myself upon a man or woman…”
The priest turned his head to the wall and rolled his eyes. He could not speak a word against his lies.
Anebos had been the pious leader of the Sun’s Priesthood for countless summers, having overseen the previous Emperor’s life unfold from diapers until death. The priest did not believe the stories told of He-Who-Is-Beloved’s death. He knew that the curling snake of a man who stood in the corner watching over his “brother” had something to do with it. To Anebos, the man was still nameless. He refused to speak the name that the slave should not have.
The head priest finally turned to the Emperor and dried him with the towel, and the underlings rushed forward. They would dress him as a man, but he would come down as an Ascended. Anebos led the procession from the Sun's Temple through the City of a Thousand Pillars, Azir and his false brother behind him, followed by the very pregnant Royal Wife who led his other two children. Behind her was the rest of the retinue of priests and scribes. Anebos stepped quickly up the stairs and took his specified place on the outside of the Holy Dais. When he looked again, Azir was leaning into the leech's face, whispering something unheard. Anebos swallowed the bile in his throat when he saw the Emperor kiss the sullied man's cheek.
Anebos rose his voice and spoke the final prayer loud enough for it to echo into the crowd below as Azir stepped into the circle. They'd been cheering as they strode to the Dais but fell silent once the shattering noise of the Sun's light crashed down upon the platform. In moments, the silence turned to screams of outrage. Anebos turned and witnessed Azir's 'trusted man' shove him from the Holy Light. The Emperor vaporized instantly. The screams turned into ones of terror behind him but before he could react, the blast hit him as well and Anebos turned to ash with the rest of the city.
##Bioluminescence's Choice Winner: Nixtarma
Who discovered Shurima after it fell? Everyone died in the city... Three days later, a merchant caravan discovers the fallen
...
I knew the peace of the desert. The warm winds on my face. The hopeful sun, cresting red dune. The smile on Ahsinkha's face when we see each other, as if for the first time, after a journey, and the laughs of our children dancing in the shadows. The calm order of bankers in Nashramae, their businesslike relief palpable with my every return. The steady step of camels on the Imperial Highway. The cool embrace of night, with the twinkling grace of stars above. The smooth beat of the silver waters of Shurima in their ancient waterways.
But the beat had slowed. Perhaps the Emperor had hoarded the waters for a celebration. He had done it before. Each day the waters slowed, imperial hubris seemed less likely. My caravan had already stocked all its excess space with water when my mount stopped. Ill at ease, I dismounted. The entire caravan had lurched to a halt, my men glanching uneasily at each other, some grabbing for sun disks beneath their tunics, others fingering their weapons.
That day, the desert was silent. That hour, the world stopped. As I walked around the last dune before Shurima, the sun gave no warmth. Before me was no longer the capital of my country. No more was the great Sun disk reflected across the golden ways of the great city, its thousand ponds, nor was it seen on any emblem of its walls. Blocks lay upon each other, twisted in beyond the elegance of their past into grotesque piles, trapping the poor soul of the city down into the defiled muddy waters of its former moats.
I did not remember falling to the ground. My men brought me back to the caravan. None spoke. Eyes wide, my lead caravan-driver pulled out his golden disk to pray. I averted my eyes. The absurdity made me want to laugh, but only tears came.
"We move tonight" I managed to croak out.
"The sun is no longer our ally."
I spoke with bitterness.
I know no peace in this desert.
When I get into the office tomorrow, I'll send you three a little something through the client to thank you for such wonderful stories! Also, though not winners this time round, I'd like to give honorable mentions to CapriciousRage, FosterTheChamps, Helmight, Regonas, and TorrentialTyrant for making the judging even more difficult with their wonderful entries :) Thank you all.
