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How elders sought the dictate of the boundaries, with insipid lines on arid parchment traced, warnings not to overstep the distance, for beyond is where the land is laid to waste. Beyond is where the many headed serpents coil and writhe and wriggle on the rock, and breathe out streams of such outlandish fire that it burns interpretation in the flock. Beyond is where the bravest of the angels turn aside and always fear to tread, and where there are such infinitely worse things than snipe and lay pedestrian with the dead. The elders love their boundaries established, and for all to then remain within their span, for only should the realms of gods transcend them, and forever they outstrip the realms of man. Their norms decreed to not out-pace the shadow, or think beyond the world they understand, yet breeds fear for the thoughts of other dreamers who may seek the world beyond the hinterland.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

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