by J. K. Haugen
J. K. Haugen’s “Lost Scrolls” Series Book 1
~ Lost Scrolls of the Holy Beclay ~
An Adventure by J. K. Haugen
© Copyright J. K. Haugen 2013
Published by J. K. Haugen E-Publishing
~Dedication~
This book is dedicated to my children and to my mom who is my biggest fan…I love you all.
~ Lost Scrolls of the Holy Beclay ~
Dedication:
Prologue:
The Beginning... Again
The Hike...
The Man in the White Robe...
The Wishing Well...
The Source…
City Gates…
The City in the Hill…
What Happened to Them?...
A new life…
Joshua…
The Great Escape…
Immaculate Inception…
A new beginning...again
~About the Author~
~Prologue~
If you are reading this, then myself and my kind are long gone. And this book is most likely battered and torn and eroded from the dirt. I pray to Agodah (the creator of everything) that the words and meanings do not change because of translation and speculation or because this parchment is no longer whole or has been smudged in the sands of time.
My name is Ayden and I leave this book to you, (any who will survive or be reborn) in hopes that you have evolved enough to translate these texts and to understand what has befallen my people. I pray that there may be enough time for you to save yours. If I am to warn you of our ending, then I must start from the beginning even though it is the middle that is the most important.
Chapter 1
~The Beginning... Again~
In the beginning Agodah created our planet and everything that inhabits her soil. Before he came, there was nothing, a darkness that seemed unending. We know this from our sacred writings we call the Beclay.
The Beclay was first spoken thousands of years before I was born, thousands of years before my furthest known relatives were born. It was spoken down (from parent to child and so on) for one-hundred generations before it was finally put into written words, and that was two thousand years before my life began.
It is our oldest known history and is the story that is mostly believed by our people. However, as I will later explain, the story has changed over the centuries. It has been misinterpreted and sometimes intentionally skewed in order to serve the agendas of those who would want to remain in power.
The main ideas and morals of stories that it tells, are still very much the same as they were all those years ago, when the Beclay was first whispered from a father to his children. Parts of the Beclay have since been lost. And now, as I tell you the story of my people, I will also tell you the story of the Beclay.
Not until close to the end of our civilization did we finally understand how the story of the Beclay and our own story were very much the same. If I am correct, the story of your people will be also.
And so, before Agodah came there was nothing, a darkness that seemed unending. So he cleared the sky and there was light. It was so beautiful, the first sunrise. It was so amazing that all who lived in the sky with Agodah cried. And from their tears, the seas were born.
For most of my life this was the part of the story that was taken literally. That Agodah had made our blue skies and with a thought, made the sun. Out of his divine power came the great bodies of water that cover our planet. In a way, I guess it could all be true. Back when our history began, the people who were there who witnessed these glorious spectacles would have had no other way of explaining such wonders.
As time has gone by and our understanding of the world around us has grown, these same wonders are an everyday occurrence. We now have machines that can change the clouds in the sky. They can end years of drought and make infertile dried up lands green with life. We have great flying ships, thousands of which fill the skies every day. There are many more wondrous things that ordinary people use in our everyday lives.
As you continue to read this, please understand that my people are not Agodahs. We are men, just like you. We have no supernatural powers only intelligent minds, just like your people most likely do.
I do not know how far intellectually your people have evolved. And so, I am uneasy about going into too much detail about our world. I believe there is a natural progression of evolution that is followed. This is what my people call Agodah's plan. I fear that if I were to give you too much knowledge too soon that it could very much hasten the end of your world as you now know it. However, I also believe that there are some things you do need to know so that you can warn your people.
I entrust this knowledge to you, the one who has found this book. It is your destiny to protect it with your life. You have been chosen by Agodah to be the one. And so I must believe that it was meant to be. You are not the first nor will you be the last...
“Where did you find this scroll?” said John in utter disbelief, “Are there more pages? Where did you find it? And how old do you think it....”
“Wait” Mark quickly interrupted, “I know you have lots of questions. I'll answer every one of them, but I need to know... Can you read it?”
“Y...Ya...Yes I... I think so.” answered John, with a quiver in his voice. “It’s incredible! Is it authentic?”
“Yeah” said Mark with a crooked smile and a raised eyebrow. “We pulled it from a site in northern Greenland. It was almost Nine miles down under a glacier in the ruins of what seems to be an ancient shipping port of some kind. Carbon dating shows it to be from around 255,000 years BC.”
“What?” exclaimed John, “That’s impossible! One of the earliest known homo-sapiens, Omo I, was found in Ethiopia and he was only around 200,000 years old. Even he still showed Neanderthal like features. There’s no way, that they were writing books like this, sit'n around the campfire, grunting at each other.”
“Well," said Mark, “I’m telling you, that this is at least 50,000 years older than Omo.”
“But how?” said John. “How could paper or hide or whatever this is, be so well preserved over millennia?”
“It's not paper or hide John. It’s something I’ve never seen before; lighter than spider web but stronger than steel. We tried to remove a small piece for examining...it broke every blade in the lab.”
“I can’t believe it.” said John, as he carefully continued to examine the scroll.
“John,” said Mark in a quiet but firm voice, “this could be the most important find in all of human history.”
“Yeah, the most important find in our history anyway.” thought John to himself, as his mind was filled with the words he had somehow been able to read, still running through his head. “Why am I able to read this scroll?” he pondered to himself. “I've never seen anything like these characters before. Is it just my Imagination? The letters…they just seemed to change right in front of me, did they? Did Mark see it too? Why didn’t he say anything if he did see them change? I have so many questions and no answers. I need more time to read the rest… Okay!” shouted John.
“Ok what?” Mark replied with a small giggle in his voice and a look of confusion painted on his face.
“Ok I’ll do it.” said John.
“But I haven’t even told you why I asked you to come!” said Mark inquisitively.
“You needed a translation right? I'll do it,” said John, “but I’ll need some time, and I’ll need the original pages sent to my la
b in Seattle.”
A voice from the other room came into earshot of John. “Did I hear somebody say, they think they’re gunna take my book?” A small, thin and athletic woman came walking into the lab where John and Mark stood. She had long red hair, pulled back into a ponytail on the back of her head.
She came right up face to face with John. He looked down at her and caught himself staring into the deepest and brightest green eyes he'd ever seen. It seemed she caught him staring too. “You can close your mouth now!” she said with a wink and a smile.
“Uh hum...” He pretended to clear his throat as he quickly looked down and grinned with the look of embarrassment on his face.
“John, this is my daughter Sarah.” said Mark.
“That’s Dr. Sarah Warren,” she said with confidence as she reached her hand out towards John, “and you can't take my book! What are ya, some kinda government guy or someth'n?”
“No Sara, this is John, ha… sorry, Dr. John Williams.” he corrected himself, slightly mocking her. “He's an expert in ancient writings and languages, and he's an old friend.”
“Well not that old, obviously.” she said in a joking manner. “Some kinda boy genius huh?”
“Something like that.” said John.
“I called John here, hoping that he could help translate some of the book. He needs to take it back to where he has...”
“Where I have more resource material!” John quickly interrupted.
“Well, where ever that book goes, I go.” she said. “So if you want it… you get me!”
“Great! Um, I mean… that would be ok... I guess.” said John in an innocent but excited voice. “We’ll leave as soon as I can book us a flight.”
“Oh no need," she said with a smile, "we'll just take the chopper.”
“Chopper?” asked John in a shaky voice, looking at mark. “God I hate helicopters”
“No worries!” said Sarah. “I'm a great pilot.”
“What?” cried John, “You’re the pilot? Mark, what the hell have you gotten me into this time?”
“I'll just pack a bag and we're outa here!” said Sarah with excitement.
“Yeah that’s what I'm afraid of.” he murmured under his breath, with sarcasm.
At the Helipad John climbed up into the chopper with an uneasy look on his face. “Now, you’re sure you can fly this thing right?” he asked with a playful smirk.
“I think so.” she said in jest. “I got my pilots license last week.” she added, giving him back just as much B.S. as he was sending her way.
John liked this pretty little firecracker of a woman. She seemed to be, as strong willed and cocky, as she was beautiful. She didn’t seem intimidated by anything, even a “Boy Genius” as she called him.
This was a nice change for John. Women often found him to be a bit of a know-it-all and they tended to shy away from him. As hard as he tried not to be, he always felt awkward around them.
Even though, John was terrified to be flying in this death trap, especially one that closely resembled a VW Bug with propeller blades, he jumped up into the cab and put on his headset with confidence. He was wearing a big smile like he'd done it a thousand times before. He was trying to hide the fact, that he was clutching the door handle so tight that his knuckles were beginning to turn white.
“Are you fly'n us?” she asked him.
“No way!” said John.
“Well, in that case, that’s my seat.” she said with a smile.
“Oh sorry,” he said scooting over into the other seat. “So much for looking cool.” he thought.
She smiled even bigger as she climbed up and sat in the pilot’s seat. She knew exactly what he was thinking, and she was flattered. However, she wasn’t about to let him know it. “Ok got your parachute?” she yelled into the headset microphone, and giggled as she started the engine.
“Ha ha,” he said back. Just then, his stomach felt like it hit the floor next to his feet. Sarah plunged the throttle forward and the chopper lifted off the ground. She intentionally lifted off a bit too quickly, just to shatter any nerves he may have left.
“Whoooa” she said, with the chopper turning from one side to the other, before zooming off towards the sun. “Sorry!” she yelled. “First time fly’n solo and all.” she joked, laughing at Johns face. His skin was pale with fright and his eyes were opened as wide as soccer balls.
“Ok, Ok,” he said, “I give up. Sorry I questioned your talent as a pilot. What ‘a ya say, we call a truce and make it to Seattle in one piece?”
He smiled as he reached into his book bag and grabbed the second scroll. “I’m just gunna do a little work for a while.” he said. “Just let me know if we start go’n down, so I can scream 'May-Day' into the mic before we hit the ground, ok?” He laughed and then added, “I’ve always wanted a chance to say that.”
John pulled the tattered scroll from his bag. As the light from the cockpit shined on the upper left edge of the paper, he noticed that under the golden like boarder there was some kind of pocket sown into the page. John pulled on a loose string next to the bottom of the pocket and as it unraveled something cold fell out into his hand.
He looked down and found a small key-like piece of metal or what felt like metal. It seemed to be made out of the same material as the book. Only it was hard like metal not bendable like the page he held in his hand. “I wonder what door you unlock?” he thought.
He moved his gaze to the top of the page. Just as it happened the first time, he watched as the shapes and lines started to move and change and somehow turn into letters and words that he could understand. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He blinked a few times just to be sure he wasn’t just seeing things.
As he began to read, he quickly looked over and glanced at Sarah, just to see if she had noticed what was happening. He thought about telling her, but he'd already made such a great first impression. He didn’t want her to think he was crazy too.
And so, he turned back and began to read...
“By now, you must have found the key of Tamarac. It will allow you entry into the city. I beg of you, do not misplace it or let the temptation of lucrative barter allow its separation from your hands. I assure you, the treasures you are about to gain far out way the few Tolas you would receive for it...”
As John continued to read through the page, he was intrigued with every new sentence, and couldn’t believe how similar the story telling was to the Bible stories he heard as a kid…
“…There is a story in the Beclay about a man and his two sons. The man would work in his fields from the beginning of day until the moon was high in the sky. When Agodah came to him and asked the man, “Why do you work so hard?”
The man replied, “I must work hard to feed my two sons, for they are growing boys.”
Agodah then said to him, “Haven’t I provided enough fertile land and blessed you with enough health, so that you can work half as hard? Are you not able to grow enough food to feed your sons? Even thy neighbor’s sons?”
“Yes oh Lord.” said the man, “But my family is too important to eat what we grow. I must work this hard so that my sons can eat the finest grain and wear the finest clothes. So they can grow up strong and wealthy and will not have to work in these dirty fields as I have.”
“My son,” said Agodah, “I had provided you just the right amount of land and hours in the day, to feed your sons. So that you would have time to be home with them and so that you could be there for them as they grew up. Not so they would grow up wealthy without you. You are missing the most precious moments of every day. These are the moments that are the most important. How can you teach them to be grown up and to raise their own families, if you are not around? How will you show them that I always provide just enough? How will you teach them that there are more important things in life then wealth and prestige? How will they learn to appreciate things such as family and love, if you are not around to teach them those things?”
This story is an examp
le of the morals and values that were lost and forgotten in time by my people. This was not our undoing. However, it did contribute to our end, by opening the door to powerful forces that would bring our way of life to its knees.”
“What treasures,” thought John, “and where is this city? All I get are more questions. When do the answers start coming?” Johns mind started to wonder. His thoughts turned to gold and gems and rooms filled with jewelry and other ancient valuables. “But if that were the case,” he thought, “then why tell the story? What does the man and his sons have to do with a lost city or the treasures this key would bring?”
John was as confused as ever. Was the story some kind of clue as to where the lock was that this key opened? Or was all this just an elaborate hoax someone had perpetrated to send some poor sap on a wild goose chase?
John’s eyes started to close. And his head began to rest on the rear wall of the cockpit. He felt the scroll slowly slip out of his fingers and back into his bag.
As he started to dose off and felt himself begin to drift away into a dream. He was awakened by a loud buzz and a Thump! Thump! Thump!
The chopper was shaking violently. “Hold On!” shouted Sarah. “We're go’n in!” At first John thought she was joking like before, but this time, the chopper didn’t stop spinning.
He could see that Sarah was fighting with the control stick. Her teeth were biting down on her bottom lip, and her forehead was wrinkled with determination.
“Come on baby girl,” she pleaded, as her feet pushed the rudder pedals back and forth with everything she had. “Don’t fail me now, just a bit more, come on you can do it!”
John now knew this was real. He felt the chopper begin to fall. “Look out for those trees!” he cried. “I was just kidding earlier about crashing.” he thought, as he heard Sarah begin yelling into the microphone.
"May-Day, May-Day, We are going down... Location, 49 degrees north... “Hold on John,” she yelled, “this is it....”