Message-ID: <35253asstr$1013821805@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: juliancoreto@hotmail.com (Julian Coreto) X-Original-Message-ID: <7b648226.0202142150.33759756@posting.google.com> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: 15 Feb 2002 05:50:41 GMT X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 14 Feb 2002 21:50:40 -0800 Subject: {ASSM} Alan, chapter 5a/? (short, nosex) Date: Fri, 15 Feb 2002 20:10:05 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, newsman Alan spent Sunday relaxing around the house. He had some schoolwork to make up from the days he missed, and he set to it, lounging on his bed, his textbooks scattered around him. He was making good progress, but once in awhile his mind drifted back to his encounter in the hospital with the old man. He turned a page in his notebook to a clean sheet and began taking notes; on the top line the wrote in capital letters, "THE SEED." 1. Old man touched me. 2. Felt tingling sensation in whole body. 3. Heard voice in my head, but old man wasn't speaking aloud. 4. Voice said (not verbatim) "Am giving you gift. Power to control actions of others, more power to come later. Develop your skills" 5. Old man said, "You are good boy, worthy to carry THE SEED, use it well and all you desire can be yours." 6. Old man released my arm from his hands, and died. Tingling stopped when he let go. 7. Next day in school, buzzing sensation in brain when talking with Megan, and then she kissed me. 8. After school in classroom buzzing again, wondered what it would be like to fuck her, and then we fucked. I thought she looked hot, and she kept saying, "I'm so hot." 9. Buzzing in penis, grew 3" 10. Made ruler fly into my hand. 11. Modified appearance (hair, build). His list continued to the bottom of the page, and then he turned it over and began writing on the other side. When he was done he read over it carefully. Turning over another new page in the note book, Alan headed this one, "Conclusions." As he put pen to paper he felt funny. The buzzing sensation returned, and he felt it through his whole body. The last thing he remembered before falling into a weird trance state was that the clock on his bedstand read 4:51pm. When he came to, the clock read 6:13pm. * * * Alan's head hurt. As he reached up to massage his temples he saw that the pen he had been using roll of the notebook and fall to the floor. Leaving one hand on his head, he lifted the notebook and glanced at it in amazement. Five pages were filled with writing Alan couldn't remember writing. Even more amazing was that the writing was not like his own handwriting. He was eager to read it, but his head was still spinning, and he felt sort of nauseous. He rested his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes waiting for the feelings to pass, about five minutes. Returning to his room after a quick trip to the kitchen for a glass of water, he picked up the notebook and began to read the words. * * * Vessel Alan Marshall, you are the 109th receptacle of this Seed of Paishiya'uvada, the first Seed, the Seed of Hyrcanus. 31,273 lunar cycles ago I, Hyrcanus, created the seven Seeds. Five of them have been passed down through these many generations. Today, the fifth day you exist as the Vessel, the truth will begin to be known to you. My story is long, but I will endeavor to be brief. In the days and years to come more will be revealed to you. Though history records me as a rebel, a usurper of the throne of my father Devaryesh, son of Hystasapes, this is untrue. History is written by the victors. History also records that I claimed to be the son of Smerdis, also known as Bardiya, the brother to Devaryesh, son of Hystasapes. I was not the son of Smerdis; I was the son of Devaryesh, son of Hystasapes, and never a more loyal son there was, but this loyalty was repaid in my blood. Just before my death I transferred my Seed to Magi soldier loyal to me, my faithful attendant Ko'un-Zir, so that the truth of my loyalty and courage, my power and faith, would live on as long as the Seed was passed forward. You, Vessel Alan Marshall, will carry the record of my deeds, the truth of my action, and the power of the of the Seed of Paishiya'uvada for the rest of your life. The vessel of the truth of my life is the vessel of the power of the Seed. My uncle, Smerdis, usurped the throne of my father when Devaryesh, son of Hystasapes, was away in Misri'im (which you know today as Egypt) putting down a rebellion. The pretender installed around him a mighty guard of Magian soldiers, circling the court of the Medes, and sent masses of centurions throughout the Empire to destroy all of the temples and monuments erected to the glory of my father Devaryesh, son of Hystasapes. So numerous were his soldiers that no one loyal to my father Devaryesh, son of Hystasapes, could dare approach the Palace of Cambyses. I fled in exile, to the Tsai Klaldun Valley, to the delta of the Axa River. Hiding on an island in the delta named Paishiya'uvada, living among the wild horses, having taken with me two sacred relics: the Chalice of Ahuramazda, and the Orbis Tertius. Alone but for a small cadre of men and women loyal to the crown of my father Devaryesh, son of Hystasapes, I created the Seeds, on the sacred hill of Arakadris. Using the powers hidden in the Orbis Tertius, I fashioned the Seeds, collapsing to the ground after the seventh emerged from the Chalice of Ahuramazda. I picked six men, the strongest and most loyal of my group, and bestowed upon them the powers that you, Vessel Alan Marshall, now possess. Our plan was simple: by using our powers to bend the will of the minds of the men guarding the palace we would be able to penetrate the court and kill the cursed Smerdis. Our plan worked; I, myself, stabbed my sword into the pretender, shedding not a tear at his death, caring not he was my uncle. Then the slaughter began. We put to the sword thousands of people partisan to the hated Smerdis. The day of this slaughter, the tenth day of the month of Viyakhnah, was for generations celebrated as Magophonia, the festival of the Blood of the Magians. My father Devaryesh, son of Hystasapes, returned to the court seven months later and was restored as king. When he learned that I was a vessel of the Seeds of Paishiya'uvada he saw me no longer as a faithful son and his ally against the treason of his accursed brother, but a son to be feared, a threat to his reign. I went away from court at my father's urging, to study at the great academy of Susa, but the messengers he sent ahead of me carried my death warrant. When I arrived at Susa the master of the academy, Nidintu-Bel (later to become, along with Atsani of Elamh, my father's hated enemy), murdered me in the doorway. With my last bit of strength I passed the Seed to my attendant Ko'un-Zir. The other six vessels were also marked for death, but four of them managed to transfer the Seeds to new hosts before being murdered. They had been tracked down by my father Devaryesh, son of Hystasapes using the Orbis Tertius and the sacred chalice, which allowed him to hide his mind, his deadly intentions, from the vessels of Seed. Ko'un-Zir, having escaped the murderous Nidintu-Bel, fled back to the Palace of Cambyses, declared fealty to my father Devaryesh, son of Hystasapes, and was welcomed back to court, later rising to become my father's trusted vizier. My father Devaryesh, son of Hystasapes did not know that Ko'un-Zir was now the vessel of the Seed of Paishiya'uvada, the seed of Hyrcanus, his son, and that my former attendant had used the seed to secure his advancement. Ko'un-Zir died many years later, but not before he managed to destroy the Orbis Tertius. With it destroyed, the Chalice of Ahuramazda was rendered devoid of power, no longer a threat to the vessels. For centuries the inert Chalice of Ahuramazda was used in the rite of succession, the vessel of the holy oil used to annoint the newly crowned king. The deeds of my entire life were given to the glory of my father Devaryesh, son of Hystasapes, and Devaryesh, son of Hystasapes, betrayed me. You are now among only five men alive on earth who know the truth. You hold almost unlimited power in your body, which is now the vessel of the first Seed of Paishiya'uvada, created by me more than 2,500 years ago. You have the power to control the actions of others, and more powers will come to you as you develop your skills. Use it well, and all you desire can be yours. I, long dead--my blood resting under the ground of Susa, buried beneath generations of dust and debris, yet still staining the hidden marble floor of the long-buried academy-- have no more battles to wage. The monks and students of Susa tried in vain for years to scour the stain of my blood from their door, but without success. Their legend held that the red stains were the only monument to my life, the only marker of my existence. They were wrong. Your Seed, and the four others that yet survive, are my legacy. Vessel Alan Marshall, in this existence you are known by that name, but to the cosmos you are known by mine: Hyrcanus, the son of Devaryesh, son of Hystasapes; The creator of the seven Seeds of Paishiya'uvada; Exile in the Tsai Klaldun Valley, to an island called Paishiya'uvada; Champion over Smerdis the Heresiarch; Restorer of Devaryesh, son of Hystasapes, to the throne in Cambyses. * * * Alan reread the manuscript a dozen times over the next half hour before his mom called him down for supper, and he still didn't quite believe it. The story, though short, was a lot to digest, and Alan wasn't sure he was up to the task of dealing with it all at once. He planned to hit the library soon, and start researching the names and places contained in the account. For the short-term, he decided to head over to Megan's tonight, if only to take his mind off the new information. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+