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sparkindarknessOk, and with this one I hereby name this story arc closed. Now I can move onto the next one to clear that one up and finally get some consistancy in my writing.
That being said, for anyone lost in my constant switching, all my fic is in my memories, in sections and in order for easy reading.
The temple was incredible. I don’t think I’d ever seen such an incredible building crafted by human hands. In our days we made wonders, but never like this., Our wonders were one with the Earth. Hades could create buildings that could dwarf this several times over, yet they seemed a part of the landscape, no matter how huge or improbably or impressive. It was the Earth itself that gave gift to such wonders, that raised up such marvels. They rested easily in an embracing sky, smiled at the playful dances of the wind flowing round them, laughed with the soft flows of water that explored freely within them and rumbled gently with the rolling warmth of the fire within them that shone generously through very freely given gem or gifted blossom.
this was different, alien. It stood out from the land, trying to tower above it. It stood in defiance of the wind, challenging the breeze to tear it down. It used only the fire it could capture and enslave to it’s use. Every gem,. every finely wrought statue, of which there were hundreds all towering above me, every stone was wrested unasked and ungiven from the Earth. Here, humanity tamed the elements, captured them, forced their obedience. They created something of incredible beauty and horrendous ugliness. They charged it with a power that was high and light and awe inspiring in its strength and majesty. And it’s alienness, alien not just to me, but to all that lived and grew - something that made me think of ants or bees. Something ordered and structured. Something caged and static and enduring. Something vast and glorious and terribly terribly sad..
No... it wasn’t alien. not entirely... there was something human about it all... So very human. For a brief moment I felt fear, true fear of what humanity actually was. Once I; no, we, thought they were ours. Now I didn’t know to whom they belonged.
“Can I help you, my son?” The voice was strong and young, it managed to reach my natural paranoia and bring me down from my confused reverie. There was too much power here. I turned, finally managing to face the priest.
He was young, no more than 30, and surprised judging by the quick step back he took. I think it was more hair and eyes more than anything else... Then I focused my vision, yes he had power, his Avatar had gifted him. He wasn’t entirely blind to who I was.
“I am not your son.” Even I was a little surprised by the sound of crackling flames beneath my voice. “The Shard... the piece of the light, where is it?”
The man rallied well, “that is a holy artefact, be assured that you stand in the presence of the Light and the Light’s own just by standing within these sacred walls... Horus’s eye!” He staggered back as a wave of singing heat flowed over him.
“I’d kill you now if you didn't have the defence of ignorance. Pitiful though it may be - you’ve seen the Shard; it is not your power.”
He shook his head stubbornly, a rich white corona forming around him. “No. I may not understand it, but all things are of the Light, can be brought to the Light, or must be brought to the Light. For Horus and the law of Order and the power of the Light.” He drew his sword, all shining metal and glowing light flowing silver and gold.
“Arrogance has been the downfall of greater people than you. You can claim our history as your own, our lands as your own, our victories as your own - but the Korhedron is not yours and never shall it be.” A sword formed in my hand. It was a flame, a blade carved from one pure flame. A long line of white fire ran up the centre, orange and red rippling round it. A thin, pale, almost invisible blue. He didn't flinch this time.
The blades met, clashing steel rang against roaring flame. Sparks flew, flames and shining light. I sent flames up my blade for that brief moment when the two weapons met, sent them to flow over and consume him. They surrounded his glowing halo but didn't push further, held back by Order’s demand that things not degrade or be destroyed.
Our blades parted and sang together as mine flashed towards his head, stomach and knees in rapid succession. he was slower than me, he lacked the passion of flames, but his defence was well tended and woven together in ordered perfection. Again and again our blades met in the holy sanctum. Sparks filled the air in glowing rains, and flames crawled inexorably across the floor, consuming what they could find. He was good. He was very good. The power of Horus, Order Avatar of the Light, filled him and demanded his stability, his perfection. But he was mortal.
My strokes came faster and faster, my body a blur to human eyes. His sword blurred to meet my blows, perfectly countering everyone, but it was power alone. I could feel his flesh sagging.
I smiled and fire consumed us. I strained to pull it out to surround us. Slowly, oh so slowly when once it would have rushed out to fill the church and destroy the entire town, the flames poured from my skin, extended around me in a fierce aura. Out and out they extended. Sweat of heat as well as strain poured down the priest’s face as we still danced the blades, though my pace had slowed as I concentrated more and more power into extending the flames around me. Around us both now.
We fought now in an orb of flames, surrounding us on all sides. The heat was incredible, the stones beneath our feet blackened and cracked, you could no longer see sparks from our blades through the flames, or hear them collide over the roaring of the inferno. His white aura burned intensely, desperately pushing back the flames as he moved to hold back my sword.
My smile widened, a rictus that put fear in the priest’s eyes and a shake to his sword hand. The flames grew hotter. Orange burned to red. Red seared on to pure, blinding white that would have near blinded most people just to look at it. Then the white nearly disappeared, it faded to a pure cobalt blue that became fainter and fainter, early invisible as it grew impossibly hot. I shook with the strain of it, our blades reduced to a half their normal speed as all our attention turned to this duel of heat and flame.
Then it was over. His sword melted, vaporised before the dripping metal could even hit the floor. I surged forwards, putting my blade to the priest’s throat. He staggered back, too slow, too weak, too tired, falling backwards to hit the ground heavily. I stood over him, surrounded by flames he could barely hold back, a sword of fire pressed to his neck.
I released the flames, threw them outwards into the structure of the temple rather than drawing them back. I don‘t think I could have brought them back within me. The huge edifice struck as it absorbed the incredible heat. Were it not for power of order imbuing every stone it would have collapsed around us.
The priest was shivering. Exhaustion? Fear? Awe? I’d learned long ago that they all looked much the same.
“Can I help you, my son?” The voice was old, but strong. And utterly unconcerned by the sight of a priest on his back with a flaming sword ready to decapitate him. I turned and gave the older priest a stern look.
“I am not your son, nor the son of the Light. Nor a friend of the Light. Whether or not I’m an enemy of the Light remains to be seen.” I nodded to the Priest of Horus. “So far you and yours have not made a good impression.”
The old priest held my gaze for a long time before, surprisingly, deferentially lowering it. “I had heard.” His voice held a hint of wonder. “But not believed. I am Arenhotep, priest of Ma’at, Avatar of Justice of the Light. Be welcome in this sacred place, Lord Haphaestus.”
I stood back from the prone priest and regarded the old one warily. I didn’t think there were any left alive who knew who I was. “You know who I am?”
“Yes Lord. And what.” He bowed, shallow but polite and respectful. “We have no claim on you,” he held up his hand to forestall the angry protest of the younger who was desperately pulling himself to his feet. “And if we did I know better than to think either I or my young friend here could enforce it. May I ask why you are here?”
“I heard the stories of this holy place. An interesting view of history - tell me, Arenhotep, is it just to claim unearned accolades? Is it just to claim another’s victory for your own?”
He looked down. I think he was ashamed. “No. It is not just.” He sighed deeply and looked at the young priest. “But it is ordered and does promote order. I apologise for the wrong and injustice you have suffered.”
“I did not come here for an apology. Nor honesty in your attempts to control the populace. I came for the Shard.”
“No! You..” Again the old priest cut off the younger.
“It is an important artefact...”
“But not yours.” The old priest nodded. The younger looked at him in horror. “You’ve already apologised for one injustice which you will continue regardless. Will you allow another even more severe? You do not allow the people to see the Shard, you just use it as a basis for stories. It’s presence or absence is irrelevant.”
“We can tap it’s power and...”
“No, Ikanesen, we cannot. It is not our power, centuries of study have proved that we cannot use it. Not even Thoth himself could draw upon its power.” The old man frowned, deep in troubled thought.
“I am offering you a choice, Arenhotep, but not the one you seem to be thinking.” The old priest looked at me, but there was no surprise in his eyes. “I will have the Shard. You can give me it willingly, or you can die defending it and I shall take it anyway.”
The old man seemed to age just a little more as he nodded his head heavily. Ikanesen gave me a look burning with hate before he too nodded his head in acquiescence. They could not stop me. They knew it.
I approached the Shard alone. The priests had avoided me as much as possible as I plumbed the hidden corridors of their edifice. It towered above me, a windswept cliff from a barren land, a few plants clinging tenaciously to it’s precipitous drop. Birds circled its height and small mammals scrabbled along it’s fine ledges. It was vast, far bigger than the temple or even the village, yet at the same time it was small enough to step over. It wasn’t a thing of this world, or was this world given form; it wasn't bound by such minor rules and limitations. It was a thing of power, power that was as much a part of me as my own body.
I reached out, extending one arm and watched it shrink. Slowly it pulled itself into itself, drawing all the power inwards, concentrating it more and more. The animals, the birds, the stones, the rain even the winds that whipped round it all contracted down into a tiny gem the size of my thumbnail. It swirled through impossible colours as I regarded it in my hand. I touched it lovingly, remembering times long gone when In rode this power freely. It felt so good to be reunited.
I put the gem in my bag and strode quickly from the temple, filled with new vigour. I would save the Korhedron from obscurity, protect it from the depredations of Poseiden and restore it to the glory it once had.
I left the building with new purpose and new hope. Wings of flame burst from my back as I leapt into the air, carried aloft by warm thermals into the sky. Hermes had always been my master in the sky, but the joy of flight still raised my heart.
I soared above the temple, higher and higher until the air grew thin and cold, looking down to see the world laid out like a map beneath me. There was the temple, shining like a jewel in the centre of the town. The town was a low, near indistinguishable brown sprawl stretching from the temple in the centre, straddling the shining blue river that flowed through it. It was actually beautiful.
That was when I saw it coming. Upstream the river had become a raging torrent. Expanded by an unbelievable amount of water it raised in a huge tsunami over the town, higher even than any building but the temple itself. It flowed unnaturally, not spreading out past it’s banks but raising impossibly upwards into a huge hammering fist.
A fist that crashed down on the helpless town. How many people died in that instant? How many?
I turned in the air and fled, trying to fight my imagination as it presented me with images the massacred town. Poseiden was less forgiving of such twistings of history than I was, it seemed. Or maybe just hungrier for the Shard. I fled from the storm of water, not stopping until many miles lay between me and that raging torrent. I tried to ignore the tears in my eyes. Tears for the people destroyed. Tears for the lives ended. Tears for my lost brother.
That being said, for anyone lost in my constant switching, all my fic is in my memories, in sections and in order for easy reading.
The temple was incredible. I don’t think I’d ever seen such an incredible building crafted by human hands. In our days we made wonders, but never like this., Our wonders were one with the Earth. Hades could create buildings that could dwarf this several times over, yet they seemed a part of the landscape, no matter how huge or improbably or impressive. It was the Earth itself that gave gift to such wonders, that raised up such marvels. They rested easily in an embracing sky, smiled at the playful dances of the wind flowing round them, laughed with the soft flows of water that explored freely within them and rumbled gently with the rolling warmth of the fire within them that shone generously through very freely given gem or gifted blossom.
this was different, alien. It stood out from the land, trying to tower above it. It stood in defiance of the wind, challenging the breeze to tear it down. It used only the fire it could capture and enslave to it’s use. Every gem,. every finely wrought statue, of which there were hundreds all towering above me, every stone was wrested unasked and ungiven from the Earth. Here, humanity tamed the elements, captured them, forced their obedience. They created something of incredible beauty and horrendous ugliness. They charged it with a power that was high and light and awe inspiring in its strength and majesty. And it’s alienness, alien not just to me, but to all that lived and grew - something that made me think of ants or bees. Something ordered and structured. Something caged and static and enduring. Something vast and glorious and terribly terribly sad..
No... it wasn’t alien. not entirely... there was something human about it all... So very human. For a brief moment I felt fear, true fear of what humanity actually was. Once I; no, we, thought they were ours. Now I didn’t know to whom they belonged.
“Can I help you, my son?” The voice was strong and young, it managed to reach my natural paranoia and bring me down from my confused reverie. There was too much power here. I turned, finally managing to face the priest.
He was young, no more than 30, and surprised judging by the quick step back he took. I think it was more hair and eyes more than anything else... Then I focused my vision, yes he had power, his Avatar had gifted him. He wasn’t entirely blind to who I was.
“I am not your son.” Even I was a little surprised by the sound of crackling flames beneath my voice. “The Shard... the piece of the light, where is it?”
The man rallied well, “that is a holy artefact, be assured that you stand in the presence of the Light and the Light’s own just by standing within these sacred walls... Horus’s eye!” He staggered back as a wave of singing heat flowed over him.
“I’d kill you now if you didn't have the defence of ignorance. Pitiful though it may be - you’ve seen the Shard; it is not your power.”
He shook his head stubbornly, a rich white corona forming around him. “No. I may not understand it, but all things are of the Light, can be brought to the Light, or must be brought to the Light. For Horus and the law of Order and the power of the Light.” He drew his sword, all shining metal and glowing light flowing silver and gold.
“Arrogance has been the downfall of greater people than you. You can claim our history as your own, our lands as your own, our victories as your own - but the Korhedron is not yours and never shall it be.” A sword formed in my hand. It was a flame, a blade carved from one pure flame. A long line of white fire ran up the centre, orange and red rippling round it. A thin, pale, almost invisible blue. He didn't flinch this time.
The blades met, clashing steel rang against roaring flame. Sparks flew, flames and shining light. I sent flames up my blade for that brief moment when the two weapons met, sent them to flow over and consume him. They surrounded his glowing halo but didn't push further, held back by Order’s demand that things not degrade or be destroyed.
Our blades parted and sang together as mine flashed towards his head, stomach and knees in rapid succession. he was slower than me, he lacked the passion of flames, but his defence was well tended and woven together in ordered perfection. Again and again our blades met in the holy sanctum. Sparks filled the air in glowing rains, and flames crawled inexorably across the floor, consuming what they could find. He was good. He was very good. The power of Horus, Order Avatar of the Light, filled him and demanded his stability, his perfection. But he was mortal.
My strokes came faster and faster, my body a blur to human eyes. His sword blurred to meet my blows, perfectly countering everyone, but it was power alone. I could feel his flesh sagging.
I smiled and fire consumed us. I strained to pull it out to surround us. Slowly, oh so slowly when once it would have rushed out to fill the church and destroy the entire town, the flames poured from my skin, extended around me in a fierce aura. Out and out they extended. Sweat of heat as well as strain poured down the priest’s face as we still danced the blades, though my pace had slowed as I concentrated more and more power into extending the flames around me. Around us both now.
We fought now in an orb of flames, surrounding us on all sides. The heat was incredible, the stones beneath our feet blackened and cracked, you could no longer see sparks from our blades through the flames, or hear them collide over the roaring of the inferno. His white aura burned intensely, desperately pushing back the flames as he moved to hold back my sword.
My smile widened, a rictus that put fear in the priest’s eyes and a shake to his sword hand. The flames grew hotter. Orange burned to red. Red seared on to pure, blinding white that would have near blinded most people just to look at it. Then the white nearly disappeared, it faded to a pure cobalt blue that became fainter and fainter, early invisible as it grew impossibly hot. I shook with the strain of it, our blades reduced to a half their normal speed as all our attention turned to this duel of heat and flame.
Then it was over. His sword melted, vaporised before the dripping metal could even hit the floor. I surged forwards, putting my blade to the priest’s throat. He staggered back, too slow, too weak, too tired, falling backwards to hit the ground heavily. I stood over him, surrounded by flames he could barely hold back, a sword of fire pressed to his neck.
I released the flames, threw them outwards into the structure of the temple rather than drawing them back. I don‘t think I could have brought them back within me. The huge edifice struck as it absorbed the incredible heat. Were it not for power of order imbuing every stone it would have collapsed around us.
The priest was shivering. Exhaustion? Fear? Awe? I’d learned long ago that they all looked much the same.
“Can I help you, my son?” The voice was old, but strong. And utterly unconcerned by the sight of a priest on his back with a flaming sword ready to decapitate him. I turned and gave the older priest a stern look.
“I am not your son, nor the son of the Light. Nor a friend of the Light. Whether or not I’m an enemy of the Light remains to be seen.” I nodded to the Priest of Horus. “So far you and yours have not made a good impression.”
The old priest held my gaze for a long time before, surprisingly, deferentially lowering it. “I had heard.” His voice held a hint of wonder. “But not believed. I am Arenhotep, priest of Ma’at, Avatar of Justice of the Light. Be welcome in this sacred place, Lord Haphaestus.”
I stood back from the prone priest and regarded the old one warily. I didn’t think there were any left alive who knew who I was. “You know who I am?”
“Yes Lord. And what.” He bowed, shallow but polite and respectful. “We have no claim on you,” he held up his hand to forestall the angry protest of the younger who was desperately pulling himself to his feet. “And if we did I know better than to think either I or my young friend here could enforce it. May I ask why you are here?”
“I heard the stories of this holy place. An interesting view of history - tell me, Arenhotep, is it just to claim unearned accolades? Is it just to claim another’s victory for your own?”
He looked down. I think he was ashamed. “No. It is not just.” He sighed deeply and looked at the young priest. “But it is ordered and does promote order. I apologise for the wrong and injustice you have suffered.”
“I did not come here for an apology. Nor honesty in your attempts to control the populace. I came for the Shard.”
“No! You..” Again the old priest cut off the younger.
“It is an important artefact...”
“But not yours.” The old priest nodded. The younger looked at him in horror. “You’ve already apologised for one injustice which you will continue regardless. Will you allow another even more severe? You do not allow the people to see the Shard, you just use it as a basis for stories. It’s presence or absence is irrelevant.”
“We can tap it’s power and...”
“No, Ikanesen, we cannot. It is not our power, centuries of study have proved that we cannot use it. Not even Thoth himself could draw upon its power.” The old man frowned, deep in troubled thought.
“I am offering you a choice, Arenhotep, but not the one you seem to be thinking.” The old priest looked at me, but there was no surprise in his eyes. “I will have the Shard. You can give me it willingly, or you can die defending it and I shall take it anyway.”
The old man seemed to age just a little more as he nodded his head heavily. Ikanesen gave me a look burning with hate before he too nodded his head in acquiescence. They could not stop me. They knew it.
I approached the Shard alone. The priests had avoided me as much as possible as I plumbed the hidden corridors of their edifice. It towered above me, a windswept cliff from a barren land, a few plants clinging tenaciously to it’s precipitous drop. Birds circled its height and small mammals scrabbled along it’s fine ledges. It was vast, far bigger than the temple or even the village, yet at the same time it was small enough to step over. It wasn’t a thing of this world, or was this world given form; it wasn't bound by such minor rules and limitations. It was a thing of power, power that was as much a part of me as my own body.
I reached out, extending one arm and watched it shrink. Slowly it pulled itself into itself, drawing all the power inwards, concentrating it more and more. The animals, the birds, the stones, the rain even the winds that whipped round it all contracted down into a tiny gem the size of my thumbnail. It swirled through impossible colours as I regarded it in my hand. I touched it lovingly, remembering times long gone when In rode this power freely. It felt so good to be reunited.
I put the gem in my bag and strode quickly from the temple, filled with new vigour. I would save the Korhedron from obscurity, protect it from the depredations of Poseiden and restore it to the glory it once had.
I left the building with new purpose and new hope. Wings of flame burst from my back as I leapt into the air, carried aloft by warm thermals into the sky. Hermes had always been my master in the sky, but the joy of flight still raised my heart.
I soared above the temple, higher and higher until the air grew thin and cold, looking down to see the world laid out like a map beneath me. There was the temple, shining like a jewel in the centre of the town. The town was a low, near indistinguishable brown sprawl stretching from the temple in the centre, straddling the shining blue river that flowed through it. It was actually beautiful.
That was when I saw it coming. Upstream the river had become a raging torrent. Expanded by an unbelievable amount of water it raised in a huge tsunami over the town, higher even than any building but the temple itself. It flowed unnaturally, not spreading out past it’s banks but raising impossibly upwards into a huge hammering fist.
A fist that crashed down on the helpless town. How many people died in that instant? How many?
I turned in the air and fled, trying to fight my imagination as it presented me with images the massacred town. Poseiden was less forgiving of such twistings of history than I was, it seemed. Or maybe just hungrier for the Shard. I fled from the storm of water, not stopping until many miles lay between me and that raging torrent. I tried to ignore the tears in my eyes. Tears for the people destroyed. Tears for the lives ended. Tears for my lost brother.
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Date: 2004-08-30 05:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-30 09:33 am (UTC)Yews. This one I shall tame!