Friday, January 23, 2015

1-23-15 Writing Warm-up
5:15 AM

1-23-15 Writing Warm-up

1-23-15 Writing Warm-up
Artwork © James Zapata, All Rights Reserved -
Story and Characters © Corey Blankenship, All Rights Reserved 
Brought to you by Four Fools Press: “Crazy Good Stories”

"Well, this is tragic."

The squawk brought the Anithon out his  contemplation.
Jaz'or, they all deserved what came to them.

The Roc-Raven had become accustomed to the entity of law's mental missives.

"True. A carrion bird should rejoice at the feast...but these spawn had the foul taint of the Far Ones about them."

The battle had come due to an emergency landing. Moments before the slaughter, the two had stood in the web between the worlds. Anithon, Guardian of the Ways-Between-Worlds, had kept the worlds at equilibrium. The Lady ruled the Spire. He the nexus. Some would think a True Neutral being would preside over the confluence of worlds, but One bound to the Law of Balance could maintain sufficient impartiality. Anithon was such a Warden, while Jaz'or had been His faithful harbinger and harsh enforcer of Rule 1: Aequilibrium in omnibus.*

Then the web between the worlds shivered and shattered.

In Anithon's perception, it was as though the strands burned, froze, splintered, boiled, writhed, vaporized, and vanished all at once--a stunning diversity of destruction which would have shred a mortal's mind. An infinite procession of windows slammed close in an instant. Rule 0, the preamble and epilogue of all things, rushed to devour the Balance and enact a greater scale. Anithon had foreseen its coming long (or a moment?) ago when He became Warden.

To the Great Omen, the Roc-Raven saw a billion wormholes snap shut, with tunnels wriggling backwards into nothingness. A pull came from everywhere to rise and parade before the End. Cries inaudible to all flesh trumpeted to Him the summons to sound the Great Feast. Yet, bound in fealty to the Warden, Jaz'or awaited Anithon's word. The two had flashed like lightning through a chink that led into the visible convergence between the planes. Many would come here and fight to re-establish rule of the Realms.

The Outlands.

Their arrival had blasted a gigantic shaft into a colossal cavern.

A cavern filled with thralls, servitors, and the Foul Consciousness.

Of course the thralls and servitors frenzied to protect the disembodied Mind, which cowered at the coming of two equally mighty Powers. Blood-Swan tore through entire divisions with its fell beak. Its own primal cry tearing the mental fetters off broken minds. The shriek drove the shambled souls from panic to death. Living Axiom then unleashed a terrible Dictum upon the hordes of slaves and servants. Flesh, bone, sinew dissolved at the Word's impact, transforming the numberless mob into a sea of blood.

Meanwhile, the Formless Mind hovered and awaited judgment.

Anithon had not deemed to address the Being, letting the humiliation mount. Clean, unpolluted water poured from the vast hole the Warden had purposely torn in the ceiling. The gape stood as a sign to the dark Power and others that limits still existed. The scales may yet return to Equilibrium. The embodiment of Order finally spoke to the alien Farlander.
You know why I have come, Ildriline.

Yesss...Your Rule has ended, so you seek to stop Mine.

A Rule has ended. Not all Rule. The Realms will not be Thine. Balance will restore once more.

A mental hiss reverberated through the crystalline hollows. Jaz'or answered the mental assault that would have unraveled worlds with mania if uttered elsewhere. The harbinger shrilled terribly, killing the maddening tone in its infancy. The Far Queen had chosen a domain too close to the Spire to think to rule over an equal Power. Much less two Powers. This timeless Terror had fled this dream when it left the Realm of Nightmares.

Mouthless, Anithon smiled.

Few could scare an Elder God.

*Latin for "Balance in Everything."

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