Note; This is a time travel story told from a witness's POV. The theme is Christmass, as in the literal defintion of it and that I am referring to a time traveling person of a noted species arriving at that moment, although seven years after the date.
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Once upon at time there was once a wood carver’s apprentice by the name of Ham. He had served his years and the three assigned by his elders to Joseph was of the last year before he became a formal carver. Joseph, unlike the ones he had trained, had been far. He had gone to the land south of the Great Inner Sea, had a son, and married early. His son was the one that had been marked by promise, all knowing, and had the eyes that no other of Joseph’s own family or tribe had. There was great promise to him.
It was on the seventh day of birth for Joseph’s eldest son that a great party was decided for him, he who had tired the village elder’s of all their knowledge. Since Ham was near his end of apprenticeship, he had been sent to gather wood on behest of Joseph. This was one of the last duties, as Joseph promised him with adoration over his sons and the eldest, and then Ham would be on his own. There were some bushes nearby, with the winter rains coming, the task would be short, and he would be sitting on Joseph’s table.
Ham went about into these bushes. It was difficult than he had pictured it, for the water had seeped the soil, and the trees had been caught in the minor floods. Several times he found himself challenged by the ground and the ridges that he had not heard of before the rains.
It was in the bushes that he came across a strange scene. The direction that he took to find the wood lay off the main roads, that of the People west of the Inner Great Sea and their legions. The direction he took was many days off from those struck with the great soreness, those of the shuffling shrouds, and the ever present staff with bells.
Here before his eyes was a strange chariot that was covered with strange metals and gilded wood. It lay near actual trees that bore burn marks, the type that would demand skill, with this mark of a wayward care. There were various pieces of the chariot scattered about, some he recognized as a hammer, a chisel, a straight saw, with the handles made out of metal. Out of appeal, Ham went to these tools, not to command them away, but of that hope that he would receive these devices once became a formal wood carver.
It was in the looking of the hammer, that of a solid piece, that a cry interrupted him. Beyond a small plume of smoke that came from the forward part of the chariot came one of those that had the great soreness, with other marks that came from their new exiled cavernous homes. The great difficulty was the lack of his staff bell, the curved ears, the easy movement of his limbs, and the cloth that only the legions beyond the sea wore. There was the burn marks upon his tunic to testify his mending.
It was of many attempts by this strange person to talk to Ham, naming all the tongues of the people, those of the Great Cities, those of the southern hot lands, and finally those that of the King in the Great City on the Sea. It was of the last that Ham understood what the strange man with the many scars and white skin wanted. He was mentioning that the chariot was broken. Due to the appeal that the metal tools had, Ham motioned that he could help.
It was in the many attempts by repairing the broken chariot that Ham began to know of this strange person. He had not come from the Lands of the Inner Great Sea. He had not come from those caverns with the great soreness. He had hailed from a strange land where a misguided king let his slaves go and run his house due to a war elsewhere. The stranger, while passing the tools and instructions to mend his odd chariot, stated that a great leader of his people had driven his tribe to a way of many people, his clawed hands waving his hands, the words spilling out of his sore ravaged mouth in a crisp manner that bespoke of his traveling, his many turns with many crafters, and his final release as a formal crafter.
Many words soon lapsed into the same tongue that he had started the talking to begin with. The stranger always came back to the aid of Ham, pointing out the various places he wanted to be hammered in. It was with the passing of the sun to the midday that Ham finished the task. The stranger thanked him, checking his chariot, for Ham observed there was no horse around, brought the matter up, with the stranger doing a motion that only formal crafters do when challenged with a question they do not know of.
It was at that mark of the sun that Ham told the stranger that he needed help cutting the wood. The stranger, bemused as a merchant of the land west of the Great Inner Sea to the wood carving rules, agreed. The oddness of the stranger was shown again on his hewing of the wood, the consulting of strange western carvings that appeared on the colored window. The stranger helped.
It was in the getting of wood that Ham bespoke of a story told of a king born in a stable, bestowed gifts on the babe king, and that of a long retreat in the lands south of the Great Inner Sea. Ham bespoke of his final test as a carver, not in the manner as the stranger showed earlier, now wonder struck by the using of the axe against a tree. It was on that final note of Joseph’s eldest son that the stranger stopped working. He asked of Ham on Joseph, Joseph’s wife, and the name of the village Ham was working in. The face upon him was of a thunder struck man, leaving the wood logs falling out of his arm. Striking Ham was of the relative ease this stranger had with the sun giving the allusion that his ears were curved, his hands ending in talons.
The stranger was in a strange mood from that mark forward, aiding Ham in the gathering of wood. Ham made his signs of leaving for the sun had moved in the sky to the ever hot time. It was at that mark where the stranger offered a gift to Joseph’s eldest son and Ham, pressing upon him the metallic tools he used in sundering the odd metals beneath the chariot as a gift for when he became a crafter. For Joseph’s son, he crafted a walking stick, carved by his own knife, a tremendous work, stating that the crafter was a clinger on that had gave him sorrow in the past. With this he presented the knife, the staff, and the tools for Ham on the day of Joseph’s eldest son’s birth.
The day ended as odd as it had begun. The walking staff was well received by Joseph’s eldest son, whom asked had it been a good day for Ham. Ham agreed to this, with Joseph giving thanks that the blessings of fortune had come to his village and family. Joseph’s eldest son, as a sign of his growing wisdom, spread words to the villagers about giving to others of a free will without reservation.
It was only after the showing of wisdom by Joseph’s eldest son, that Joseph was so moved that he formally gave word of Ham’s mastery of wood carving. Ham was now of the joining trade, open to all trade of the cities on the coast, and perhaps of those beyond the Great Inner Sea. Of that promise, Ham recalled the stranger who had helped him, and went to thank him for it.
Just as mysterious as the stranger had arrived, he had departed. The area that he had arrived in with his horseless chariot had markings of a small burning with the chariot nowhere to be seen. There was a fading tang in the air as if strange scents of burning thing had finally made that final gasp before working. Of the stranger there was no sign, except the tools that he had granted Ham with, that of the knife that the stranger had retrieved from a clinger on.
It was upon this sign that Ham devoted his life to finding this stranger. Even with Joesph’s son achieving his greatness, Ham still searched for that stranger, giving aid to those with the scars and the staffs with bells and those with sickness overall. They never had those talon hands or curved ears. It was upon this fact that Ham became a joiner of men, all for the help of others, giving the lessons to his son, named in honor of the few words the stranger told of his homeland, Remanus, son of Ham.
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Once upon at time there was once a wood carver’s apprentice by the name of Ham. He had served his years and the three assigned by his elders to Joseph was of the last year before he became a formal carver. Joseph, unlike the ones he had trained, had been far. He had gone to the land south of the Great Inner Sea, had a son, and married early. His son was the one that had been marked by promise, all knowing, and had the eyes that no other of Joseph’s own family or tribe had. There was great promise to him.
It was on the seventh day of birth for Joseph’s eldest son that a great party was decided for him, he who had tired the village elder’s of all their knowledge. Since Ham was near his end of apprenticeship, he had been sent to gather wood on behest of Joseph. This was one of the last duties, as Joseph promised him with adoration over his sons and the eldest, and then Ham would be on his own. There were some bushes nearby, with the winter rains coming, the task would be short, and he would be sitting on Joseph’s table.
Ham went about into these bushes. It was difficult than he had pictured it, for the water had seeped the soil, and the trees had been caught in the minor floods. Several times he found himself challenged by the ground and the ridges that he had not heard of before the rains.
It was in the bushes that he came across a strange scene. The direction that he took to find the wood lay off the main roads, that of the People west of the Inner Great Sea and their legions. The direction he took was many days off from those struck with the great soreness, those of the shuffling shrouds, and the ever present staff with bells.
Here before his eyes was a strange chariot that was covered with strange metals and gilded wood. It lay near actual trees that bore burn marks, the type that would demand skill, with this mark of a wayward care. There were various pieces of the chariot scattered about, some he recognized as a hammer, a chisel, a straight saw, with the handles made out of metal. Out of appeal, Ham went to these tools, not to command them away, but of that hope that he would receive these devices once became a formal wood carver.
It was in the looking of the hammer, that of a solid piece, that a cry interrupted him. Beyond a small plume of smoke that came from the forward part of the chariot came one of those that had the great soreness, with other marks that came from their new exiled cavernous homes. The great difficulty was the lack of his staff bell, the curved ears, the easy movement of his limbs, and the cloth that only the legions beyond the sea wore. There was the burn marks upon his tunic to testify his mending.
It was of many attempts by this strange person to talk to Ham, naming all the tongues of the people, those of the Great Cities, those of the southern hot lands, and finally those that of the King in the Great City on the Sea. It was of the last that Ham understood what the strange man with the many scars and white skin wanted. He was mentioning that the chariot was broken. Due to the appeal that the metal tools had, Ham motioned that he could help.
It was in the many attempts by repairing the broken chariot that Ham began to know of this strange person. He had not come from the Lands of the Inner Great Sea. He had not come from those caverns with the great soreness. He had hailed from a strange land where a misguided king let his slaves go and run his house due to a war elsewhere. The stranger, while passing the tools and instructions to mend his odd chariot, stated that a great leader of his people had driven his tribe to a way of many people, his clawed hands waving his hands, the words spilling out of his sore ravaged mouth in a crisp manner that bespoke of his traveling, his many turns with many crafters, and his final release as a formal crafter.
Many words soon lapsed into the same tongue that he had started the talking to begin with. The stranger always came back to the aid of Ham, pointing out the various places he wanted to be hammered in. It was with the passing of the sun to the midday that Ham finished the task. The stranger thanked him, checking his chariot, for Ham observed there was no horse around, brought the matter up, with the stranger doing a motion that only formal crafters do when challenged with a question they do not know of.
It was at that mark of the sun that Ham told the stranger that he needed help cutting the wood. The stranger, bemused as a merchant of the land west of the Great Inner Sea to the wood carving rules, agreed. The oddness of the stranger was shown again on his hewing of the wood, the consulting of strange western carvings that appeared on the colored window. The stranger helped.
It was in the getting of wood that Ham bespoke of a story told of a king born in a stable, bestowed gifts on the babe king, and that of a long retreat in the lands south of the Great Inner Sea. Ham bespoke of his final test as a carver, not in the manner as the stranger showed earlier, now wonder struck by the using of the axe against a tree. It was on that final note of Joseph’s eldest son that the stranger stopped working. He asked of Ham on Joseph, Joseph’s wife, and the name of the village Ham was working in. The face upon him was of a thunder struck man, leaving the wood logs falling out of his arm. Striking Ham was of the relative ease this stranger had with the sun giving the allusion that his ears were curved, his hands ending in talons.
The stranger was in a strange mood from that mark forward, aiding Ham in the gathering of wood. Ham made his signs of leaving for the sun had moved in the sky to the ever hot time. It was at that mark where the stranger offered a gift to Joseph’s eldest son and Ham, pressing upon him the metallic tools he used in sundering the odd metals beneath the chariot as a gift for when he became a crafter. For Joseph’s son, he crafted a walking stick, carved by his own knife, a tremendous work, stating that the crafter was a clinger on that had gave him sorrow in the past. With this he presented the knife, the staff, and the tools for Ham on the day of Joseph’s eldest son’s birth.
The day ended as odd as it had begun. The walking staff was well received by Joseph’s eldest son, whom asked had it been a good day for Ham. Ham agreed to this, with Joseph giving thanks that the blessings of fortune had come to his village and family. Joseph’s eldest son, as a sign of his growing wisdom, spread words to the villagers about giving to others of a free will without reservation.
It was only after the showing of wisdom by Joseph’s eldest son, that Joseph was so moved that he formally gave word of Ham’s mastery of wood carving. Ham was now of the joining trade, open to all trade of the cities on the coast, and perhaps of those beyond the Great Inner Sea. Of that promise, Ham recalled the stranger who had helped him, and went to thank him for it.
Just as mysterious as the stranger had arrived, he had departed. The area that he had arrived in with his horseless chariot had markings of a small burning with the chariot nowhere to be seen. There was a fading tang in the air as if strange scents of burning thing had finally made that final gasp before working. Of the stranger there was no sign, except the tools that he had granted Ham with, that of the knife that the stranger had retrieved from a clinger on.
It was upon this sign that Ham devoted his life to finding this stranger. Even with Joesph’s son achieving his greatness, Ham still searched for that stranger, giving aid to those with the scars and the staffs with bells and those with sickness overall. They never had those talon hands or curved ears. It was upon this fact that Ham became a joiner of men, all for the help of others, giving the lessons to his son, named in honor of the few words the stranger told of his homeland, Remanus, son of Ham.
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