Dark Tales Of Lost Civilizations (2 page)

Eric J. Guignard

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It begins with discovery.

A shard of pottery lying on the bottom of the ocean. A block of stone unearthed from the sands of a distant desert. A hastily-scrawled message, slowly fading from the parchment it was inked upon.

From these innocuous relics, great mysteries and legends arise. Who left such remnants behind? Where in history did they exist and how does it relate to us? What were their glories? What were their failings? Why did their society ultimately collapse? What does it all mean?

We wonder questions like these, at one time or another. It is human nature to seek knowledge, to understand the world around us. And with these questions we step back in time for a moment to reflect on those who came before us; the countless races and cultures that have fallen to dust, many of whom are now completely forgotten.

You see, mankind has thrived on earth in a number of mysterious and wonderful civilizations, not the least of which is our own. However, the world as we know it also amounts to only an infinitesimal speck of sand within the great rolling dunes of time. Life existed long before us and will continue to do so, in some form or another, on this world, or perhaps one of the countless others struggling in the universe. Organisms tend to band together, sharing needs—shelter, food, language, and soon a culture begins. A civilization is born. Some flourish while others die quickly. All eventually collapse.

The fascination of history, of knowing the experiences of people that lived before us, has endured as long as humans have been self-aware. Close your eyes and imagine the earliest accomplishments of Homo sapiens—do you see them as I do, etching hieroglyphics on the cave wall, inventing stories of their forefathers to explain phenomena around them? Since then, think of the great splendors and mysteries that have existed on our planet, those which thrived in eras past and even those which are still yet to be. How many peoples considered themselves to be the most advanced, yet now are barely remembered through crumbling relic and lore?

Cambodia’s Angkor Wat was the largest preindustrial city in the world, “grander even than Greece or Rome,” as described by French explorer, Henri Mouhot. Built in the twelfth century, its architecture, waterways, and intricate carvings were never before seen and still today are considered as brilliant marvels. Drought and invading armies brought ruin to the great temple after only a few centuries of use.

The pyramids of Egypt are chronicled in every history textbook as a harkening to the ancient wonders of the world. Technologically advanced, the splendor of Egypt was evinced in science, architecture, culture, and military power. But how could such a powerful nation at the height of prosperity collapse? The country suffered from a long and slow period of disintegrating finance, ultimately leading to bankruptcy. Class warfare and civil strife erupted, fragmenting the nation into numerous warring families. Sound familiar?

Consider also Mayan civilization, stretching across all of Mesoamerica between the eighth and ninth centuries. Peasant revolt and agricultural abuse led to their decline. There is Pompeii, destroyed in a day by volcano. Rich Babylon, conquered in war and left to decay in the desert. Biblical Gomorrah, burned for its sins.

And those are just a few exceptional peoples we are aware of. But what of the civilizations we are not intimately familiar with, the perplexing mysteries which are footnoted in the great book of the unknown? How many of humanity’s secrets are waiting still to be rediscovered, hidden under jungle vines or even beneath the asphalt streets we walk upon?

What became of the Indus Valley people, a culturally-advanced society which is considered India’s oldest known civilization? With a population numbering over five million during the Bronze Age, they were contemporaries to Mesopotamia and ancient Egypt, yet suddenly vanished at the height of their power.

What occurred to the “Lost Roman Legion”? Over four thousand of Caesar’s most feared soldiers vanished . . . only to appear inexplicably in the Gobi Desert, seventeen years after going missing?

What is the large city that lies over two thousand feet underwater, off the coast of Cuba? What is the reason for the Nazca Lines in Peru, images which stretch over thirty-seven miles in length? What is the origin of the mystical healing practices at Anuradhapura? What happened to the colony at Roanoke, Virginia?

I foster the fascination of these questions and have assembled this book as a collection of
explanations
to such curiosities. Hypotheses, if you will, to suggest answers to baffling enigmas or perhaps even “alternative” interpretations to what you
think
you may know. What we have learned over our lives, after all, is not infallible.

Within
Dark Tales of Lost Civilizations
, each author offers a unique perspective to unexplained mysteries or to a society of beings, whether they are historically known or only rumored to exist, in great and fearful whispers.

Has there ever really existed the great continent of Mu? What is it that lures explorers to distant lands where none have returned? Who, not
what
, are responsible for causing our nightmares? Where is Genghis Kahn buried? What happened to Atlantis? Who will displace mankind on Earth?

Included are accounts of archaeologists and scientists, treasure hunters, tragic royalty, spirits, and even the Witches of Oz. Each story illuminates a particular race of life and explores the genesis of their origin, or the cause of their destruction, or perhaps just contributes a chapter to their legacy.

Ask each author as to what inspired them, and the answers invariably would revolve around a sense of wonder, sparked by those relics of life and their unsolved mysteries.

For out of ruins, come questions.

Some day, peoples of the future—whether our own descendants or perhaps explorers from a strange, alien world—will look upon our crumbling remains and wonder,
what happened?

—Eric J. Guignard

Chino Hills, California

December 7, 2011

Cynthia D. Witherspoon

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Angel of Destruction
was my first acceptance into the Dark Tales anthology and it set the bar for future submissions. Thus it seems only fitting to begin this book following that same rationale. Cynthia D. Witherspoon has crafted a short story which is simply one conversation that takes place in a single scene, but it is so succinct and powerful that it remained with me long after I read it—the true mark of a great story. As one civilization is collapsing, a darker truth emerges, one that could affect so many more . . .

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My world was ending. No, that wasn’t right. My world
had
ended. Not in the glorious battle foretold by the priests of Nimrud, but with sickness and silence. My father was dead. My brothers. My young husband. All were considered great men. The heroes of our empire who kept it alive after a traitor claimed the throne of our ancestors. But even great men are deceived by the gods. And even heroes rot in false palaces outside the grave.

We were under siege. Visions of the final victory had led us to the city of Harran in this, the year of 609. Yet those visions failed to describe how our enemies would cage us here until the disease of fire and famine would kill us faster than their spears. My dear husband had laughed when the townspeople began to succumb to the illness. He considered it a punishment for the lower classes who were caught climbing the city walls daily. I had laughed with him, silently rejoicing in our superior status. Yet we were no better than the traitors. I had spent hours wailing and ripping at my veil as proof of that. Now, I was edgy. I knew what was coming next and I was simply working up the courage to act upon my duty.

“Calm yourself, Eilina.” My servant since childhood slipped into my foreign chambers with a smile that was uncalled for in this time of sorrow. “It will do you no good to panic in the coming days.”

“What is left for me to do, Arbella?” I snorted as I resumed the pacing which kept me from acting out in anger for my plight. “I have the blood of warriors coursing through my veins. Woman though I am, I wish to avenge my people. My father’s throne!”

“Warrior?” The old woman nodded as she placed a covered basket by the door. “Aye, you are that, though you’ve had no training. Your desire to survive is evident of that.”

Her words stopped me as none other could have done. I whirled around with every intention of putting the maid in her rightful place when something held me back. Perhaps it was the gods clamoring to bring peace to this stricken house. Or perhaps, it was my own sense of kindness which kept me from striking the old woman. Either way, I dropped the hand I had raised and collapsed on the pallet which served as my bed.

“I know what I must do.” I reached for the jeweled blade meant to take my life and lifted it from its place by my bedside. “And I will. Long before the barbarians come to take me away. Just . . . not now. Not when there is a chance for us to escape this wretched city.”

“There is no escape, princess.” Arbella stroked the side of the basket with one long, crooked finger. “At least, not for the others.”

“What do you mean, the others?” I frowned as I replaced the blade. “There are no others.”

“No?” She raised her eyebrows in mockery. “What of the others in my status? The servants? The women of the harem? Surely you realize that their fates were sealed the moment your father drew his last breath. Just as yours was.”

“My fate.” I spat out the word as if it were a curse. “My fate was to bear my husband’s children. Continue the line of Assyria’s great rulers. My fate was stolen from me. And nothing you can do will ever bring that back.”

“Ah, but that was not to be, princess.” Arbella nodded as she approached my bed and knelt before me. “Otherwise your men wouldn’t have died nor would you have been betrayed by your priests. No, your destiny is for far greater things.”

“What do you know of my destiny? My fate?” I shoved her away from me in order to stand. “You are no prophetess, servant. You have no right to speak such words to me.”

Arbella nodded. “Then perhaps it is time for you to do your duty, princess. Allow me to retrieve the blade you are so quick to sit aside.”

When she stood, the servant extended her hands to offer me the blade. I wanted to take it from her. I wanted to prove to this impertinent woman that I wasn’t the coward she saw me as. Instead, I shook my head and nodded toward the basket.

“What is it that you brought for me, Arbella? The method of escape you spoke of?”

“It is.” The woman grew serious as she searched my eyes. “Your gods have failed you, princess. But mine has not. Promise your allegiance and you will be saved.”

“Your gods?” I laughed despite myself. “Arbella, are you confused? Mad? You are just as Assyrian as I, after all. My gods
are
your gods.”

The servant shook her head, waiting for my laughter to cease before she spoke. “No, princess. It is you who are confused. I was stolen from my home by your father’s men long before you were born. Brought first to the harem, then to your chambers. I am no more Assyrian than the Medes attempting to break down the palace gates.”

“Not Assyrian?” I frowned as I distanced myself away from her. “How can that be? No slave so close to royal blood would be of conquered stock.”

“I am much more than a slave, Eilina. And it wasn’t difficult to convince your father to place me in your rooms.”

I watched in fascination as the woman I’d known since I was a child began to shift into someone else. The lines carved by age fell away from her face. The silver in her hair darkened to a hue of red that could only be described as unnatural. Indeed, even her bones straightened so that she no longer struggled to stand, but faced me as an equal. No, it was more than that. She faced me as a superior. A goddess among men. I would have fallen to my knees before her had it not been for her eyes. They mesmerized me. Kept me still.