The portal shimmered, and Chron stepped through. The cool, tingling sensation washed over him, as though he had immersed himself in a pool of electrified water. He couldn't help but shiver at the evil magics that coursed around him, throwing him into the future, into a world destroyed by a powerful madman.
He fell a short distance onto a marble floor, the temperature difference caught him by surprise. He landed awkwardly, but righted himself quickly, assessing his surroundings, fearful of discovery.
He was in the hall outside of the throne room, a dark and shattered shadow of the halls he walked in his own time. He hurried nervously to the throne room door, hoping he had enough time. His hand, clenched tightly around a poisoned dagger trembled... he might never even make it back.
After a brief moment to calm himself, he shoved the double wooden doors wide open, and strode down the faded golden carpet. The room became suddenly quiet, and a hundred faces hooded in grey robes turned to face him. Their passionless expressions opened in a pantomime of suprise and quiet discussion. He sprinted straight towards the regal figure at the end of the room, shoving a startled ambassador out of his way.
The knife flew from his hand, arcing swiftly through the air. The throw drifted to the side, but still found its mark, releasing deadly poisons into the king's veins.
As guards rushed towards him, the king began to laugh, a sad laugh tinged with shades of irony.
"I knew this day, one day would come. I was a fool to think I might avoid it." He walked towards Chron, now pinned to the ground by a pair of armored pawns. "Do you not recognize me?"
Chron gasped as the king's familiar features suddenly hit home. The scar, there, above the eyebrow... The world spun, colors blending together like a water painting. The blurred king bent over and slumped to the floor. The world vanished, and Time found himself lying on the floor of his own room once again.
He had just killed himself.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Alone, without you
You said you had to leave,
For something you believed in.
There’s something wrong with this place:
something you needed to fix.
But I can’t do it with you,
I think that you’re wrong.
I love this place
and the people we trust in!
Why couldn’t you stay?
Put your concerns away.
Stay here with me,
and share in my feelings.
But you’ve gone now,
Gone far away,
Far, far beyond my reach.
I’m all alone...
Without you...
For something you believed in.
There’s something wrong with this place:
something you needed to fix.
But I can’t do it with you,
I think that you’re wrong.
I love this place
and the people we trust in!
Why couldn’t you stay?
Put your concerns away.
Stay here with me,
and share in my feelings.
But you’ve gone now,
Gone far away,
Far, far beyond my reach.
I’m all alone...
Without you...
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Fanatic
Thoughts seethed through his mind. Wrongs, slights, faces, words, they all jeered at him from the corners of his mind. He listened to them, let them wash over him... he indulged himself with with a brief moment of their powerful song. Their message of hate and vengeance gave him purpose.
He cleared his mind, emptying himself of emotion and bias; a fight was no place for a clouded mind. The trap was laid, his plans had started into motion already. Nivea wouldn't... no, couldn't relinquish control. Her position was her breeding, her purpose, her entire race... not something that could change hands like a gift. This was the only possible way.
It wasn't the way he wanted, Nivea held his utmost respect, even admiration, but this could not be denied.
He felt her approaching; the air chilled, the still breeze shifted gently. His breath misted before him, crystallizing into the tiniest flecks of ice. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards, and he leaned forward, relinquishing his grasp from the tree's rugged surface.
He shifted to the middle of the path as he fell; not a power drawn from magic, but one drawn from the sheer will and determination of his mind. His cloudy form slowly regained a more solid shape, and he pulled a long, slender blade from his back, letting it hang loosely in his right hand.
She was there... a radiant white, a stark contrast against the sparse evergreen background. Her escort came to a halt, immediately forming up around her and drawing their weapons. Four ice wraiths, her finest. He had trained alongside them for a time, an abnormal honor for one from his race, but an honor no longer.
There was no surprise in her delicate face, merely a sad understanding. He twisted his face into a hateful sneer, her perception and intelligence were legendary, but he desired no empathy, no sympathy, no comprehension. No words needed to be spoken here.
He let out a ragged scream of intense purpose, and shifted into the midst of them, swinging his delicate blade with inhuman speed and precision. Shadowy figures fell from the trees, and rushed in towards the circle of defenders.
The air froze, and the detritus covered floor turned to a slick, icy surface as the four powerful ice wraiths put up their defensive wards. Cold steel upon even colder steel sang out a perfectly choreographed melody as the shadows danced with the frozen warriors. A snap in the tune, a hissing cry, the defenders fell one after another.
He pressed against her, his swift flurries of blows combined with a constant shifting left Nivea breathless on the defensive. She used her hands to defend herself, carefully picking the slender blade out of the air, pushing it gently out of harm's way each time. Her eyes were closed, frowning in intense concentration, anticipating the angle he would come from next.
The last of the ice wraiths fell under the swords of the shadowy band, and brought their attention to Nivea herself. She stepped back, and he relinquished his onslaught. She was cornered.
"I wish that I could dissuade you, Umbra", her smooth, soft voice drifted gently through the sharp, cold air, lilting with distress.
His harsh laugh cracked across the scene, and he swung his sword in a powerful arc. Her white dress folded around the sweeping stroke, leaving behind a flurry of snowflakes. They settled to the ground for a moment, and then drifted slowly off into the sky, pulled along on an invisible breeze.
He threw his head back towards the sky, "This is my declaration Nivea! Heed it!"
He then slipped back into the stormy ocean of emotion and vengeance that swelled in his mind, searching for the advice and guidance that would lead him to his purpose.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Black Letter
The wind howled at the sky, whipping through the narrow streets and tugging at the assassin's tightly wrapped cloak. The heavy shadows of the dark night consumed his figure as he stalked down the narrow path between buildings.
This is a good night.
His family would be pleased. The night's objective would be easy. The docks were just in view, and he could see the rigging flailing wildly in the wind, hear the protest of the creaking wooden ships. He was like smoke, flowing swiftly and silently under the torrent of the wind.
A doorway opened, and a figure hesitated from within its threshold, the imposing weather threatening and wild. A resigned posture, and his characteristic hat was removed from his head, clenched tightly in his hands. Its long slender feather whipped wildly to and fro. He foraged out into the harsh night.
Comfort in consistency. The assassin recited one of his rules of behavior, and detached himself from the shadows to pursue the receding figure.
A turn, a twist, a double back, he's being careful. Normal for the target, but fruitless. He was a god of urban stalking.
A vacant alley, he positioned himself around a corner, leaning casually against the wall. His target walked past. The jacket tail whipped nervously in the wind.
As he passed, "Every?". His target spun slowly, surprised. A whirl of motion, the grinding of boots on the cobblestone street. Open hand, edge of palm, the soft yielding of flesh. He fell to the floor, a pile of clothes and twitching flesh.
The assassin knelt, and felt Every's pulse. Adrenaline, slowing, still alive. He rifled through the jacket's inside pockets, and pulled out a sealed letter. A sharp smile, a triumphant sensation. The assassin paused to let the feeling linger, and then backed slowly into the shadows.
The war would be any day now.
This is a good night.
His family would be pleased. The night's objective would be easy. The docks were just in view, and he could see the rigging flailing wildly in the wind, hear the protest of the creaking wooden ships. He was like smoke, flowing swiftly and silently under the torrent of the wind.
A doorway opened, and a figure hesitated from within its threshold, the imposing weather threatening and wild. A resigned posture, and his characteristic hat was removed from his head, clenched tightly in his hands. Its long slender feather whipped wildly to and fro. He foraged out into the harsh night.
Comfort in consistency. The assassin recited one of his rules of behavior, and detached himself from the shadows to pursue the receding figure.
A turn, a twist, a double back, he's being careful. Normal for the target, but fruitless. He was a god of urban stalking.
A vacant alley, he positioned himself around a corner, leaning casually against the wall. His target walked past. The jacket tail whipped nervously in the wind.
As he passed, "Every?". His target spun slowly, surprised. A whirl of motion, the grinding of boots on the cobblestone street. Open hand, edge of palm, the soft yielding of flesh. He fell to the floor, a pile of clothes and twitching flesh.
The assassin knelt, and felt Every's pulse. Adrenaline, slowing, still alive. He rifled through the jacket's inside pockets, and pulled out a sealed letter. A sharp smile, a triumphant sensation. The assassin paused to let the feeling linger, and then backed slowly into the shadows.
The war would be any day now.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Ice
The sounds of breathing pushed in. Cold seeped slowly through the surface of the suit. Stars drifted slowly through the view, slowly spinning again, in the same pattern. Time ticked by slowly... breathing.
Frost was building up on the glass view, branching and feathering slowly towards the center. There was no more fuel left, it had all leaked out on the impact. Plenty of air, that's what the suits were good at.. enough air for years. But the cold, the chilling cold couldn't be helped.
A little number on the heads up display said 10 km/s. I couldn't feel it. I couldn't see it.. couldn't see anything but those damn stars.
Closed my eyes, a soft touch. A gentle caress. Words whispered. Meaningless, distant, no more than memories. But the sensation, the brush of her hair...
A tear welled, drifting slowly away, slowly freezing into a shining sphere. She was safe. Did it matter? No, not quite, not at this point. But it did... irrelevant. It was a bad decision, the only regret. Life is too short for regret. It was too late now.
A malfunctioning component sparked briefly, lighting up the dark interior of the helmet, and scoring a mark into the butterfly wings of the frost. He cursed, a futile gesture, but a necessary one.
Smart retorts, sharp and biting, playful and harmless. Hunching intently when taking a picture. Hair clinging to her neck after a long run. Powerful gaze of triumphant discovery. Too much, too little. So far away. Another tear drifted slowly.
He removed the helmet, ignoring the soft alarm noises. The air hissed out of the suit, spraying into the dark void of space.
The helmet drifted slowly away, spinning ever so slightly. Never.
He evaporated in the atmosphere of a small, newly formed planet, 1.7 billion years later.
Frost was building up on the glass view, branching and feathering slowly towards the center. There was no more fuel left, it had all leaked out on the impact. Plenty of air, that's what the suits were good at.. enough air for years. But the cold, the chilling cold couldn't be helped.
A little number on the heads up display said 10 km/s. I couldn't feel it. I couldn't see it.. couldn't see anything but those damn stars.
Closed my eyes, a soft touch. A gentle caress. Words whispered. Meaningless, distant, no more than memories. But the sensation, the brush of her hair...
A tear welled, drifting slowly away, slowly freezing into a shining sphere. She was safe. Did it matter? No, not quite, not at this point. But it did... irrelevant. It was a bad decision, the only regret. Life is too short for regret. It was too late now.
A malfunctioning component sparked briefly, lighting up the dark interior of the helmet, and scoring a mark into the butterfly wings of the frost. He cursed, a futile gesture, but a necessary one.
Smart retorts, sharp and biting, playful and harmless. Hunching intently when taking a picture. Hair clinging to her neck after a long run. Powerful gaze of triumphant discovery. Too much, too little. So far away. Another tear drifted slowly.
He removed the helmet, ignoring the soft alarm noises. The air hissed out of the suit, spraying into the dark void of space.
The helmet drifted slowly away, spinning ever so slightly. Never.
He evaporated in the atmosphere of a small, newly formed planet, 1.7 billion years later.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Ship launch
A flare in the evening sky. A rushing of wind. The glint of the falling sun on the ocean waves. It was the last launch of the evening, before the spaceport shut down for the incoming storm.
A smattering of rain fell upon my face as I watched the ship lazily trail out through the atmosphere. The clouds were coming fast now, hiding the sun on the horizon. I could hear sirens behind me, wailing and crying their distress. The sounds of the distressed panic rose over the barrier of trees.
I dug my bare toes into the sand, tracing the smoky contrail of the spaceship with my finger. The last of earth's finest were aboard it, fleeing total destruction. Who knows what planet they were bound for, somewhere peaceful, hopefully.
The ship vanished into the thickening clouds, punching a hole through them, just large enough to make it through unscathed. A breath found its way through my lips, and the tension escaped my clenched limbs. At least they were safe.
If only we hadn't... But that's futile, to wish for things that couldn't be. These were the last moments of my life. I may as well enjoy them.
I sat down, brushing away some sharp shells from beneath me, and gazed out towards the spaceport. The lights from the city glinted from its towering spires, flickering with its distraught colors. The ocean waves lapped peacefully in front of me, oblivious of it all.
I liked that. That was comforting. Maybe the ocean would still be here afterwards.
Ashes drifted down onto the beach around me, like snow. Some were still hot, burning with an orange glow. They drifted and swirled, and rested upon the restless waves with a hint of steam.
I closed my eyes, and leaned back gently, feeling the sensation of the burning flakes against my skin. The last sensations I'll ever feel. Enjoy the little things.
The rain started again, for real this time. The cool sensation of the rain quickly contrasted with the burning flakes, and I opened my eyes.
The sky was now filled with lances of fire. Burning chariots streaked across the sky, flames trailing behind them, quickly turning into a trail of thick, black smoke.
The rain stung my eyes. So many of them. They snaked their way towards the horizon, to the city behind me, to the ocean, to the seaport. Each of their trails held purpose, drive, confidence.
A tear dripped down my face, indistinguishable amongst the raindrops that covered my face. I smiled softly, and wiped it away, glancing quickly at the ground. It was all so pointless.
I could feel the tremors in the ground as the spheres of fire landed. I stood again, slowly, and watched them splashing into the ocean. Different noises from the city now. I ignored them, and watched as the shining towers of the spaceport fell to the ground. Their delicate structures leaned as the fireballs crashed into them, toppling with a gentle grace.
They sparkled as they fell, cutting wires, and letting loose the violent nature of the electricity that powered it. How quickly they were destroyed. So many years of construction, gone in an instant of spectacular beauty.
I shivered, and clung to myself. The rain was cold.
They liked their destruction to be personal. Up close, one on one. We humans waged our wars at a distance, we preferred to never know who it was that we were killing. We would feel for them if we did, it makes it hard on us. They killed up close because they needed to know, they needed it to be fair, they needed it to remember how terrible it really is.
Sometimes it was just necessary.
The ocean surged as they rose from the water. They pulled their massive bulks from its clinging grasp, and lumbered purposefully onto the beach. One in front of me stopped, and looked down, towering far above me.
Its metal frame dripped, and rivulets of water streamed down its elegant curves. Seaweed clung to it like a spiderweb. It knelt gently to the ground before me, and bent so we were face to face.
I smiled gently, and closed my eyes, tilting my head back. It looked so sad...
A smattering of rain fell upon my face as I watched the ship lazily trail out through the atmosphere. The clouds were coming fast now, hiding the sun on the horizon. I could hear sirens behind me, wailing and crying their distress. The sounds of the distressed panic rose over the barrier of trees.
I dug my bare toes into the sand, tracing the smoky contrail of the spaceship with my finger. The last of earth's finest were aboard it, fleeing total destruction. Who knows what planet they were bound for, somewhere peaceful, hopefully.
The ship vanished into the thickening clouds, punching a hole through them, just large enough to make it through unscathed. A breath found its way through my lips, and the tension escaped my clenched limbs. At least they were safe.
If only we hadn't... But that's futile, to wish for things that couldn't be. These were the last moments of my life. I may as well enjoy them.
I sat down, brushing away some sharp shells from beneath me, and gazed out towards the spaceport. The lights from the city glinted from its towering spires, flickering with its distraught colors. The ocean waves lapped peacefully in front of me, oblivious of it all.
I liked that. That was comforting. Maybe the ocean would still be here afterwards.
Ashes drifted down onto the beach around me, like snow. Some were still hot, burning with an orange glow. They drifted and swirled, and rested upon the restless waves with a hint of steam.
I closed my eyes, and leaned back gently, feeling the sensation of the burning flakes against my skin. The last sensations I'll ever feel. Enjoy the little things.
The rain started again, for real this time. The cool sensation of the rain quickly contrasted with the burning flakes, and I opened my eyes.
The sky was now filled with lances of fire. Burning chariots streaked across the sky, flames trailing behind them, quickly turning into a trail of thick, black smoke.
The rain stung my eyes. So many of them. They snaked their way towards the horizon, to the city behind me, to the ocean, to the seaport. Each of their trails held purpose, drive, confidence.
A tear dripped down my face, indistinguishable amongst the raindrops that covered my face. I smiled softly, and wiped it away, glancing quickly at the ground. It was all so pointless.
I could feel the tremors in the ground as the spheres of fire landed. I stood again, slowly, and watched them splashing into the ocean. Different noises from the city now. I ignored them, and watched as the shining towers of the spaceport fell to the ground. Their delicate structures leaned as the fireballs crashed into them, toppling with a gentle grace.
They sparkled as they fell, cutting wires, and letting loose the violent nature of the electricity that powered it. How quickly they were destroyed. So many years of construction, gone in an instant of spectacular beauty.
I shivered, and clung to myself. The rain was cold.
They liked their destruction to be personal. Up close, one on one. We humans waged our wars at a distance, we preferred to never know who it was that we were killing. We would feel for them if we did, it makes it hard on us. They killed up close because they needed to know, they needed it to be fair, they needed it to remember how terrible it really is.
Sometimes it was just necessary.
The ocean surged as they rose from the water. They pulled their massive bulks from its clinging grasp, and lumbered purposefully onto the beach. One in front of me stopped, and looked down, towering far above me.
Its metal frame dripped, and rivulets of water streamed down its elegant curves. Seaweed clung to it like a spiderweb. It knelt gently to the ground before me, and bent so we were face to face.
I smiled gently, and closed my eyes, tilting my head back. It looked so sad...
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