The Four Seals of Euphrates

Rajesh Fantasy

The Four Seals of EuphratesPart I: The Murmur Beneath the RiverEuphrates River, Southern Iraq — June 10, 2025The sun scorched the cracked plains along the Euphrates, where war and drought had long stripped the land of its color. Only the river remained, sluggishly flowing past the ancient bones of Mesopotamia, whispering secrets in currents that few dared listen to.Dr. Layla Anwar stood at the edge of an excavation trench, sweat slicking her back as she stared down into the hollow beneath the soil. A series of carved stones had been unearthed—black basalt, veined with something like silver, inscribed in symbols that her mind recognized but could not comprehend. They hadn’t come from any known Sumerian or Akkadian source.“Doctor,” called Tariq, one of her assistants, “we found another seal stone. This one’s... humming.”She stepped into the trench and crouched near the new find. It was shaped like an obelisk, its point broken, partially buried in red clay. But what caught her breath was the faint sound emanating from it—not quite a voice, not quite a song, but something rhythmic. A murmur.“You hear that?” she asked.Tariq blinked. “Hear what?”She touched the stone. It vibrated. Her mind flooded with images: fire falling from the sky, four shadows rising from beneath the earth, a river of blood. She recoiled, gasping. Tariq steadied her.“What did you see?” he asked.Layla looked at him, heart pounding. “Nothing. Just... dehydration.”But she was lying. Deep in her soul, something old stirred.That NightThe dream was not her own.Layla found herself walking through a vast, underground chamber lit by golden torches that never burned out. Along the walls were four great statues, winged and faceless, each holding a sword tipped in flame. Chains of light ran from their feet into a glowing pool in the center of the room—a pool that pulsed with the rhythm of a heartbeat.Then, a voice echoed through the chamber. Genderless. Ageless.> “Who speaks in the name of clay? Who awakens the bound?”She tried to run but couldn’t move. The pool began to boil. The statues opened their mouths, and from within came screams—millions of voices crying out in languages she didn’t know but understood perfectly. “The First is stirring. The Fire of Knowledge seeks release. The river dries. The gate weakens.”She woke with a scream, clutching her chest, soaked in sweat.June 11, 2025 — The Fifth Day of ExcavationThe river had dropped another two feet overnight—an inexplicable phenomenon. No dam upstream had opened. No drought could account for such rapid decline.The team’s drone footage showed a spiral pattern forming on the riverbed—like a fingerprint pressed into mud. Layla stared at it on her laptop screen, a chill crawling up her spine. The shape was familiar. Not from any archaeological site. From her dream.Tariq entered her tent. “We found a tunnel. It opened up after last night’s shift.”He handed her a flashlight.The Hidden ChamberThe entrance lay hidden behind a false wall of sandstone. It sloped downward, impossibly smooth, as though cut by something other than human hands. Layla, Tariq, and two others descended carefully. The air grew colder the deeper they went.Eventually, they emerged into a massive domed chamber. In its center stood four enormous pillars, each wrapped in bands of silver, iron, and something unidentifiable—translucent like crystal but pulsing faintly with light.Each pillar bore a name, inscribed in a script older than cuneiform:AZRAQUIELSEMJAZAREMIELABADDONBeneath each pillar, a circular seal embedded in the floor shimmered with engraved sigils—stars, swords, and a tree split down the middle.Layla froze. Her breath caught.The voice returned.> “First-born of Flame. Judge of the Forgotten. Wind of Sight. Mouth of the Abyss.”She stumbled back. The others stared at her.“You don’t hear that?” she asked.“Hear what?” Tariq looked genuinely confused.The murmurs grew louder in her mind. No longer whispers—chants.> “Loosen the first chain. Let the Fire of Truth cleanse the lie of flesh.”Her legs gave out. She dropped to her knees, clutching her ears. The light from the seals flickered.Then, silence.Later That DayLayla sat alone, reviewing photographs of the chamber. She zoomed in on the sigils. They matched nothing in known history. And yet, she remembered them—as if from another life.She opened her personal journal and began to write down the voice’s words. Her hand moved as if possessed, sketching symbols she’d never seen before.Something moved at the edge of her tent.She turned quickly—but saw only shadows.Then a man stepped in, dressed in black robes, his eyes hidden behind silver-rimmed spectacles. He was flanked by two others. Military, but not. They bore no insignia.“Dr. Anwar,” the man said in perfect Arabic. “You’ve found something... you shouldn’t have.”“Who are you?”“Custodes Lux Dei,” he replied. “We are t

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