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› The History of Metal Guitar V - 'The time has come'
It was almost two decades since the day Dianor had entered the temple, and finally he believed his time had come.
Since his first encounter with the high priest, Dianor had been immersed in the daily rituals of the order. What many priests once took to be rituals had taken on a more urgent form upon the discovery of the weapon, it was if a veil had been lifted and the priests had begun to understand their purpose within the temple.
Dianor knew, though the words remained unspoken, that only he and the high priest knew what was really to happen, though when it happened remained the high priest's last and only power upon the events.
In order for a priest to progress through the ranks in the order, he must train for and pass numerous physical and mental challenges. Some challenges required prodigious strengh of will whilst others required a coolness of intellect that took years of study and training for the priests to perfect. For Dianor however, the years had flown by. As he had progressed quicker than even the high priest had, through the order's ranks, he was now finally on the threshold of halls of the senior priests.
It was here, he assumed, he would train under the guidance of the seven senior priests, and most importantly to Dianor, the High Priest, to wield the weapon of power that had come into the Order's possession.
As he entered the halls he felt a sensation that had never overcome him in his fifty six years, the sensation of apprehension. After nineteen years in the Order he had come to relish the safety and security that the enchantments he had been taugh afforded him, but as he approached the senior priests he felt that his destiny was inexorably hanging out of his control.
As he took his place around the table as a senior priest for the first time he saw the high priest approaching, holding before him a large object covered in a thick grey blanket. As the high priest's eyes locked onto Dianor, he felt his eyes drawn not to the older man's gaze, but to the covered object he was holding. Clearly the seven senior priests around him were equally perplexed at the high priest's actions, which struck Dianor as odd. Surely each of the priests had gone though whatever ritual he was about to partake in. But it was only as the high priests face was only a few short paces from where Dianor sat that he noticed the pain on the old mans face. It was not a physical pain, but of a nature that sent a shiver down Dianor's spine.
'Under this blanket,' the high priest spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper,'is the weapon of Dianoris.'
By their reaction it was clear to Dianor that this was no ritual at all.
'It is with great regret that I offer it to you Dianor, I hope against hope that you refuse, but I fear that you know as well as I, that it is no longer your own choice.'
The High priest kept the blanket upon the weapon, as if fearing that to see it would be too much for any man to resist, but he knew that such an action was futile anyway.
The room was silent. Then slowly, Dianor stood and walked around the table to where the high priest sat and knelt beside him. He took the old mans withered hand and spoke the words that the high priest had never wanted to hear.
'Father, this is my destiny.'
Jim
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