Little is known about this person, but I will tell you what is known about him. Beneath Moiromma’s 400-foot ice is a dead planet, much like Earth’s moon; similar to a big snowball in the sky, might be a better description of Moiromma. But, as he was going to say, under this ball of ice and snow there was a time, seas and rivers embellish flows of water and flowers everywhere, now tunnels, caverns and sinkholes. There was a time when this planet was alive and beautiful, one of the most impressive disks in the solar system, now it is just a fossil for its inhabitants. And since the earth had its disastrous times, its meteor bombardments, if you will; its volcanic disturbances; its crushing tsunami Moiromma: Iazrak [Part II, to Johannes’ Strange Acquaintance] #22 waves. It wasn’t that long ago that the entire ice age prevailed, gripped the planet, soaked deep within the planet’s crust. At which time an earthquake occurred causing a vertical displacement of thirty-five miles. It was the largest earthquake the planet has ever seen. He flung ice, earth, and living beings and creatures into his cold abyss.
The tsunami waves traveled through the ice at eight hundred miles per hour, without warning the planet’s inhabitants, faster than any seismic wave they had ever endured. There is no such thing as a warning system in Moiromma, they all fend for themselves, you might say. They never knew what hit them, yet it happens every decade, though not as big as the most recent.
This time, the ice sheets parted like a jet of water that hurled ice forty feet into the air, and everything on top of it. Two thousand inhabitants died. This knocked the planet off its axis. The magnitude of the tremors kept everyone running for days.
yazraq [or IK for short], the brother of Jokaneen, and friend of the old king of Moiromma, was a man of honor and brave, on behalf of Moiromma’s brutality; which of course is a virtue there. Unlike his companions, he had never died, not even once. He lived on an ice island, on ice with a moat surrounding his little ice fortress. In the evenings, many of the villagers would come and visit IK with his families for a few hours, there he would tell all the stories he had memorized of the comings and goings of the many inhabitants of the known planets within the systems in question. lonely. , to include the ancient kings who once ruled the planet, and the great fight he once had with an enemy. He was one of the peacemakers, you could say, but not entirely involved in politics. He was more of a seer, an odd guy, and he encouraged everyone to live a harmonious life. He spoke of the wars before the ice came to Moiromma and how the old kings fought against the Lords of the Mountain, the warriors of old. He had said that the planet had many trees at the same time that they gave the Lords much shelter from the Archking of Moir I and his son, King Moir II. And he mentioned the cobblestone streets and long summer days that had been a part of Moiromma sometime in the past. And all his listeners, about two hundred from the nearby towns, listened night after night to his tales.
Sometimes, he even created a great emotion with the stories, he invented what he had to do, to entertain people, that is, he added fiction to the facts, you could say; but some took them with a doubtful intention, if not even contempt; out of fear, hatred and ignorance, thus, they plotted his disappearance, his death, his murder. There were three of those fanatics in town who made this plot.
It seemed that a stranger had walked through the town, IK was a kind of mayor, without a title, but the only spokesman they had, and when asked by the inhabitants, to lend his wisdom to their deliberations, he did. This, of course, also angered the three conspirators, the miscreants, who wanted to dominate the village for their own benefit.
Assassins, that’s what they were, because their theme and plot could not be seen otherwise; therefore, the day came when the crime was imprinted on their brains to go ahead and commit it. When one looks at this image one must remember that the planet only had small villages, very small for the most part as the king had died in battle and was transferred to another planet so it was filled with cell groups mostly . , hunting parties, or as he had told them, small towns per se. The entire planet had only about 20,000 inhabitants. And those who did not live in the cell groups, or family packs, and some two or three families per pack, lived as hermits, or alone; you may ask why when city-states are more productive and protective, and I don’t have the answer, it just is. Next, let’s not forget the assassins, as they are on the horizon, putting their plans in order. Without discipline there is no law, and without law there are no limits, thus, the murderers felt: who can harm us? Sinister men of greed and lust greet or control power, and what little material wealth the town had to offer they wanted to use that power.
It so happened that, through a rumor that spread wildly throughout the town, Iazrak would meet his death if he remained in the town, and this reached his ears through the townspeople. It was really intended to scare Iazrak, without having to kill him, one could conclude that it is psychological warfare. But this was not to happen, the defenseless villagers were on behalf of Iazrak, he only accepted the good will of the people that if he remained in the village he would be ‘careful’.
Jokaneen–begged her brother to stop their meetings, hoping to stop the evil will of the assassins, but the dimmable plot against her life would be carried out.
It would be fair to say that from then on no one slept really well in the village, not like before; in fact, they slept so restlessly that something strange happened. One morning, IK looked out his icy window and saw that the entire town was deserted; only he and the three assassins remained. Therefore, this little nest of anarchy in the present had lost its control factor, its power grid if you will; his life support, his motive for continuing the slaughter.
As time passed, the three found themselves arguing over drinking rat alcohol and ice bug wine; the monotony of life in Moiromma had returned, for the most part, back to how it was before [bleak and dreary], but without the neighbors. The eyes of the three had lost their lust for life. It was shortly after this period that his sister convinced him not to leave and join a cell group, so she retold his stories and added one to him, the one you just heard. And to be honest, he was quite happy to be the narrator.
Note: both (parts I and II), stories, written 12/27/04 in draft form; rewritten 1/2/05. Revised 6/14/05 “The Corpse Planets #22” story
