Words Of The Ancients

“Praising what is lost
Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither;
We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill
All repetition: let him not ask our pardon;
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion we do bury
The incensing relics of it.”
-’illian Shakes’eare

Part I

Kessler dreamt ofhis world freezing in the void, silent and lifeless. He awoke in a strange mood that morning and climbed down from his house to watch the cattle sleep. They twitched and moaned in the half-light of dawn. It was comforting to him to know that even on this strange planet, everyone dreamed. Even the beasts.

A villager quietly emerged from the mist and approached the sleeping cattle. He patted one of them until it awoke. He guided the creature out of the pen and gave Kessler a solemn nod as he walked it toward the slaughterhouse. The beast gazed at Kessler with dull eyes and did not look away until it disappeared into the mist. Kessler sighed and climbed back into his house. He couldn’t bring himself toeat breakfast that morning.

As the sun rose and the village came to life, Kessler stayed in his room, poring over glyphs, trying to decipher the language of the Ancients, hoping touncover the elusive past of this gloriousplanet. The hours slipped by, until Kessler received word from a colleague that he was needed at a new excavation located some distance from the village. He collected his tools and a few reference documents, then promptly jumped out the window.

High above the forest bed, Kessler free fell for a moment before unfolding his wings andgliding through the forest, deftly dodging trees and branches. He alternated between gliding through the canopy and leaping along the forest bed, until he reached his destination.

The trees abruptly gave way to a grassy clearing. It was midday and the sun had burned away the morning mist. He shielded his eyes and looked up. A massive ruin stoodbefore him, a long towering block leaning to one side, covered in vines, gray and crumbling in the hot sun—an ancient behemoth being wrestled to the ground, strangled by the foliage.

Kessler approached the team of scientists congregated around the base of the monument. He recognized most of them from previous excavations: Hissun, the engineer; Ki’en, the archaeologist, accompanied by his team; and his friend and neighbor, Ti’ek, the resident xenobiologist, who noticed Kessler first and bobbed his head to greet him. Kessler bobbed back and approached the group. Ki’en’s team busied themselves, setting up tents and unloading equipment from their vehicles. Ti’ek lifted his tail, affectionately swatting Kessler’s side as Kessler inspected the building closely. It was so weatherworn there wasvery little chance any glyphs were left intact onthe structure. But Ti’ek seemed quite excited as he led Kessler into the ruins.

They approached a long descending shaft, half bouncing, half gliding down it