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Atres Artes, v. 1, issue 3, 1946
Page 19
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FANTASY FICTION KHARESH, THE VISIONARY by Francis T. Laney In the far off times of which musty chronicles sometimes speak, there lived near Sarnath the [doomed?] , on the land of Manr, a certain wealthy visionary named Kharesh. He dwelt in a magnificant palace built of snow white marble and jet black obsidan, and whose halls and rooms were filled with luxurious furnishings and priceless tapestries worked with the designs of long dead cabalists. The gardess surrounding the palace of Karesh weer filled with mummering music issuing from weirdly carved golden fountains, and all planted with all manner of exotic [palms? plants?] and shrubs. Here, in barbaric splendor, Kharesh dwelt alone save for his slaves, and the bevy of fair dancing girls who each eventide flitted shadowy in the wavering light of flambeaux. Nor was Kharesh by any means satisfied with his many possessions, and his agents forever [combed?] the bazaars of the world for the greatest and finest of art -- even going so far as Ulthar, beyond the River Skai. For of statuary was Kharesh passionately fond, and his greatest delight was to procure some new marvel of the [sculptors?] art. All men envied Kharesh, the visionary, as he dwelt with his beautiful dancing girls admidst the statues in the marble and obsidian palace. [illegible] to Karesh something was lacking, though indeed he himself scarce knew what. So he was accustomed to allow his eyes to rove afar across the rolling plains of Manr. as though searching for some mystic and unknow arrival. One frosty morning, Kharesh stood on the highest tower of his papace, gazing as was his went at the undulating plains, when he espied a faint cloud of dust far on the eastern horizon. Swept with a strange feeling of nostalgic urgency, he stood motionless for hours, his eyes drawn to the distant cloud of dust; nor would he eat his meals that day, brushing aside his servents as though he were almost unconscious of their presence. As the hours slipped away one by one into the abyss of the unfathomable, Kharesh perceived great dromedaries in the midst of the swirling dust; and behind them, some dark object which he could not recognize. As darkness fell upon Manr, the distant caravan halted, and soon Kharesh could see the wavering lights of their camp fires. The feeling of compulsion held him enthralled, and all through the long night, Kharesh stood like one of his statues, watching the flickering fires die into a faint reddish glow. Nor would he attend the entreaties of his beauteous dancing girls, who finally fled affrighted at his stony immobility. The first faint light of dawn showed Kharesh still standing on the obsidian and marble balcony, watching the distant caravan as it slowly drew nearer. As the morning wore away, Kharesh saw that the dark object behind the dromedaries was a great sledge, on which stood something envolved with weather-tattered linen. Finally a great [slgh?] stirred the bosom of Karesh, as he saw the sledge turn towards his gate. Stiffly he left the balcony and went through the deserted halls of his palace, towards the courtyard. The slaves and dancing girls crouched hidden, [perring] from concealment at Kharesh, for there was something untoward in theis master's bearing. But he noted it not, for it seemed to him that his fulfilment was at last at hand. Numberless little swarthy creatures swathed to the ears in tattered silk swarmed through the gate; and servitors cowered in their hiding places, for it seemed to them that the little men were in some obscure way not quite human. Chittering, alien voices greeted Kharesh as he stalked into the courtyard, and the watchers could understand but little of what was said -- save that one ancient kitchen-hag screeched with terror and made cryptic gestures when she thought she heard on of the drivers speak of the Mi-Go. ((turn page -- Page 19 --
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FANTASY FICTION KHARESH, THE VISIONARY by Francis T. Laney In the far off times of which musty chronicles sometimes speak, there lived near Sarnath the [doomed?] , on the land of Manr, a certain wealthy visionary named Kharesh. He dwelt in a magnificant palace built of snow white marble and jet black obsidan, and whose halls and rooms were filled with luxurious furnishings and priceless tapestries worked with the designs of long dead cabalists. The gardess surrounding the palace of Karesh weer filled with mummering music issuing from weirdly carved golden fountains, and all planted with all manner of exotic [palms? plants?] and shrubs. Here, in barbaric splendor, Kharesh dwelt alone save for his slaves, and the bevy of fair dancing girls who each eventide flitted shadowy in the wavering light of flambeaux. Nor was Kharesh by any means satisfied with his many possessions, and his agents forever [combed?] the bazaars of the world for the greatest and finest of art -- even going so far as Ulthar, beyond the River Skai. For of statuary was Kharesh passionately fond, and his greatest delight was to procure some new marvel of the [sculptors?] art. All men envied Kharesh, the visionary, as he dwelt with his beautiful dancing girls admidst the statues in the marble and obsidian palace. [illegible] to Karesh something was lacking, though indeed he himself scarce knew what. So he was accustomed to allow his eyes to rove afar across the rolling plains of Manr. as though searching for some mystic and unknow arrival. One frosty morning, Kharesh stood on the highest tower of his papace, gazing as was his went at the undulating plains, when he espied a faint cloud of dust far on the eastern horizon. Swept with a strange feeling of nostalgic urgency, he stood motionless for hours, his eyes drawn to the distant cloud of dust; nor would he eat his meals that day, brushing aside his servents as though he were almost unconscious of their presence. As the hours slipped away one by one into the abyss of the unfathomable, Kharesh perceived great dromedaries in the midst of the swirling dust; and behind them, some dark object which he could not recognize. As darkness fell upon Manr, the distant caravan halted, and soon Kharesh could see the wavering lights of their camp fires. The feeling of compulsion held him enthralled, and all through the long night, Kharesh stood like one of his statues, watching the flickering fires die into a faint reddish glow. Nor would he attend the entreaties of his beauteous dancing girls, who finally fled affrighted at his stony immobility. The first faint light of dawn showed Kharesh still standing on the obsidian and marble balcony, watching the distant caravan as it slowly drew nearer. As the morning wore away, Kharesh saw that the dark object behind the dromedaries was a great sledge, on which stood something envolved with weather-tattered linen. Finally a great [slgh?] stirred the bosom of Karesh, as he saw the sledge turn towards his gate. Stiffly he left the balcony and went through the deserted halls of his palace, towards the courtyard. The slaves and dancing girls crouched hidden, [perring] from concealment at Kharesh, for there was something untoward in theis master's bearing. But he noted it not, for it seemed to him that his fulfilment was at last at hand. Numberless little swarthy creatures swathed to the ears in tattered silk swarmed through the gate; and servitors cowered in their hiding places, for it seemed to them that the little men were in some obscure way not quite human. Chittering, alien voices greeted Kharesh as he stalked into the courtyard, and the watchers could understand but little of what was said -- save that one ancient kitchen-hag screeched with terror and made cryptic gestures when she thought she heard on of the drivers speak of the Mi-Go. ((turn page -- Page 19 --
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