In the era long past, the Four Eternals lived peacefully on their world, until the One Who Made All decided to create more beings, lesser beings, to populate the world. The One Who Made All charged the four Eternals to keep watch over the fragile lives of the new creatures, a task they readily accepted. Starine and Perseterra nourished their bodies and spirits by giving them sunlight, rain, and food from the earth. Azumaron gave them friendly pushes and pulls along tides and currents to carry them to the farthest reaches of the horizon. And Gosoroth saw the mortals to their final resting place when their lives came to an end. Starine favored the long-lived beings with pointed ears, and she taught them her ways, and Perseterra favored the short-lived beings with rounded ears, and did the same. However, these new beings were not only fragile, but also flawed, and corruption overcame them. The beings they protected and grew to love eventually started to destroy each other. The Eternals came to a summit to decide the fate of the mortals. Azumaron of the Sea declared the mortals had to be forced to obey the will of the Eternals, as the tides force their will upon the shore. Perseterra suggested to destroy all the corrupt mortals and return them to the earth to be reshaped into perfection, a task that would take a great many years. Gosoroth suggested one of the Eternals absorb all corruption and move it to a place farther from the reach of mortals, so they had more of a choice between good and evil. Starine saw that Gosoroth’s plan was the wisest, but deciding who would take the corruption was difficult. The God of Death himself decided to take on the heavy burden, and pulled all the darkness into his own soul, warping and twisting his once tranquil mind into wickedness and chaos. The other Eternals chained up their once-brother and buried him deeply below the surface of the earth, hoping the chains that bound would never break…
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Red People
Rain is not blood.
People aren’t afraid of rain. Some people even like the rain. It’s beautiful—inspiring—a cold, fickle muse drawing power from sunless skies. Most people find it disappointing. They look out the window in the morning and catch sight of the zircon beads, shake their heads, and sigh. They watch other people caught in the storm, flailing in the flood, being dragged away like prey in the mouth of a beast and chirp, “Don’t worry the sun will come out soon.” Some people find it uncomfortable—the wetness leaves dark spots behind. If there’s too much rain people will drown, but they’re still not afraid of it. It only goes one direction. It can’t help where it falls. Some people don’t acknowledge the rain until it is too late. If you can’t see it it’s not there.
Blood is frightening. People don’t want to look at it. It’s red and grisly—unpredictable. They know it’s there, under their skin, permeating their flesh, but they need to pretend it’s not. Some people get ill from the sight of blood. Any little droplet needs to be covered or cleaned up. If you can’t see it it’s not there. Always call a doctor if you’re bleeding. You won’t want to when the endorphins flow, when your own mind betrays you, when you skip arm-in-arm with Euphoria to your right and Death to your left. Once enough blood flows it’s almost impossible to stop. If Death doesn’t pull you away from this world, Pain, the gouty hunchback always creeping behind, takes your hand and drags you into the depths when you’re too exhausted to fight back. You wait until the next time you bleed.
Or die.
Just cover your eyes! If you can’t SEE it it’s not there.
Blood is not rain.
People aren’t afraid of rain. Some people even like the rain. It’s beautiful—inspiring—a cold, fickle muse drawing power from sunless skies. Most people find it disappointing. They look out the window in the morning and catch sight of the zircon beads, shake their heads, and sigh. They watch other people caught in the storm, flailing in the flood, being dragged away like prey in the mouth of a beast and chirp, “Don’t worry the sun will come out soon.” Some people find it uncomfortable—the wetness leaves dark spots behind. If there’s too much rain people will drown, but they’re still not afraid of it. It only goes one direction. It can’t help where it falls. Some people don’t acknowledge the rain until it is too late. If you can’t see it it’s not there.
Blood is frightening. People don’t want to look at it. It’s red and grisly—unpredictable. They know it’s there, under their skin, permeating their flesh, but they need to pretend it’s not. Some people get ill from the sight of blood. Any little droplet needs to be covered or cleaned up. If you can’t see it it’s not there. Always call a doctor if you’re bleeding. You won’t want to when the endorphins flow, when your own mind betrays you, when you skip arm-in-arm with Euphoria to your right and Death to your left. Once enough blood flows it’s almost impossible to stop. If Death doesn’t pull you away from this world, Pain, the gouty hunchback always creeping behind, takes your hand and drags you into the depths when you’re too exhausted to fight back. You wait until the next time you bleed.
Or die.
Just cover your eyes! If you can’t SEE it it’s not there.
Blood is not rain.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
The Book of Cosmic
The Book of Cosmic: a Flash Fiction
Terms
Ydii (pronounced “Dee”): a pet name, mostly given to females
M’sa: Mother
Plasmis: a type of computer made almost entirely of holographic imagery. Hard drive is a small round discus about the size of a CD.
Mazqi (pronounced Ma-SKI): M’kani for “brother”
They’re going to find us, Ydii. You can’t keep doing this. First M’sa, now you. It’s over. They’ve won. We no longer have a place in this world,” Yetelli Katarné said to his younger sister, Ildiecza. She continued working on her plasmis, recording the words from the banned Book of Cosmic. It was her mission. Her calling.
“You’re giving up the old ways so soon, mazqi,” the girl replied. “Retse e n’she oi’le Tzim. Rest not when the word is unheard, remember?”
“Look, there’s giving up, and then there’s just survival. We believe. They don’t want to. Why should we stick our necks out for them?”
Ildiecza didn’t respond, but continued recording. Katarné nervously glanced up at the holographic window. It was only a matter of time before their cloaked sublevel was discovered by the feared M’Kani Authoritariats. Katarné and his sister managed to avoid having to submit to the Law of Reasoning, which was passed in response to the growing threat of Cosmician ideology. It was a simple enough task for most. An officer from the Authoritariat Regiment would arrive at their home and ask each member of the household two basic questions.
Do you believe that our world Muteria and the universe as a whole came to be of its own power, outside the prevalence of any intelligent designer, and it has no function beyond existing for the living?
Do you believe or have you ever believed in the collective being known as “the Cosmic?”
The answers to both questions were “Yes” for the first, and “No” for the second. The vast majority of Muterians were able to answer correctly, and they were allowed to go about their daily trials. But, if they answered incorrectly, they were detained and taken to the nearest specialized correctional institution.
This procedure had changed from previous years, when any Muterian who was discovered to be a Cosmician was executed. Ruling parties discovered that this action only caused more fervor in the Cosmic fellowship, and the executions were halted. The imprisonment method turned out to be much more effective in wheedling down the numbers of Cosmicians. Zealots would be administered drugs, convulsive shocks, and other means of correcting behavior such as solitude, confinement, food restriction, and sleep deprivation under the direction of psychiatric doctors. The best doctors boasted the fastest results. After the asylums were founded, the only deaths that resulted were suicides.
The M’kani Governing Consulate declared progress.
Ildiecza continued recording.
Have faith always, even when those who do not believe demand proof of the existence of the Cosmic. What is true to one may not be true to another, and sometimes the only truth is faith. Have faith always, even when it seems the power and blessing of the Cosmic does not exist. The world is imperfect, and its beings flawed as well. Though some would claim “I have not killed anyone,” or “I have never stolen anything,” none are entirely blameless. It is not that the Cosmic allows ill to fall upon the universe, but rather that wickedness has a life of its own, like a disease that overtakes the weak and innocent.
Condemnation…exclusion…these were never principles of the Cosmic yet some individuals perverted the ancient laws to further their own means, be they restricting access of the redemption found in the Cosmic, or even simply making one group feel more superior over another. These teachings of the Cosmic are false, and should not be heeded. Hear me, brothers and sisters, for these were the true laws of the Cosmic:
Honor the Cosmic above all else.
Worship not any image or physical manifestation.
Do not dishonor or pervert the name of the Cosmic.
Remember the Ritual of Reverence.
Give honor to the beings that give you life and raise you to adults.
Do not unjustly take the life of another.
Do not cultivate inappropriate relations with one other than your life-mate.
Do not profess falsities as truth.
Do not take from others what is not yours.
Do not long for the personal articles of others.
In all these words, remember these most of all:
Devote yourself in heart and body to the Cosmic.
Devote yourself in heart and soul to all those around you.
Redemption comes only from the Cosmic, given freely to those who desire it.
Suddenly, the cloaking shield shorted and failed, and several Authoritariats burst into the room, brandishing their strongest weaponry and pointing it at the two youths.
Katarné quickly stood to his feet. His face paled.
Ildiecza continued recording.
“Yetelli Ildiecza, you are hereby charged with the high crimes of zealotry and professing false ideologies. Do you deny these charges?” The Authoritariat commander asked.
“I do not,” Ildiecza replied, her attention unwavering.
“Don’t—don’t listen to her. She’s confused,” Katarné said, forcing a laugh.
“You have one chance to renounce your beliefs. Declare to us now the Cosmic does not exist and you may go free.”
“Ildiecza! Please!” Katarné begged.
“I cannot.”
“Take her to Holding,” the commander ordered.
“Please, sir, reconsider! She is simply sleep-deprived! She’s been working on this project extensively and has had very little rest! She doesn’t know what she’s saying!” Katarné cried. The Authoritariats ignored his pleas, and proceeded to restrain the girl, who kept recording until her hands and feet were shackled.
She did not struggle. The Authoritariat commander sneered at her.
“So, just giving up, are you? Excellent. That show of cowardice will surely make you lose followers. Pretty soon, every asylum in Muteria will be keeping the public safe from you maniacs. We’ll have you all under lock and key before you destroy our lives and our freedom.”
Terms
Ydii (pronounced “Dee”): a pet name, mostly given to females
M’sa: Mother
Plasmis: a type of computer made almost entirely of holographic imagery. Hard drive is a small round discus about the size of a CD.
Mazqi (pronounced Ma-SKI): M’kani for “brother”
They’re going to find us, Ydii. You can’t keep doing this. First M’sa, now you. It’s over. They’ve won. We no longer have a place in this world,” Yetelli Katarné said to his younger sister, Ildiecza. She continued working on her plasmis, recording the words from the banned Book of Cosmic. It was her mission. Her calling.
“You’re giving up the old ways so soon, mazqi,” the girl replied. “Retse e n’she oi’le Tzim. Rest not when the word is unheard, remember?”
“Look, there’s giving up, and then there’s just survival. We believe. They don’t want to. Why should we stick our necks out for them?”
Ildiecza didn’t respond, but continued recording. Katarné nervously glanced up at the holographic window. It was only a matter of time before their cloaked sublevel was discovered by the feared M’Kani Authoritariats. Katarné and his sister managed to avoid having to submit to the Law of Reasoning, which was passed in response to the growing threat of Cosmician ideology. It was a simple enough task for most. An officer from the Authoritariat Regiment would arrive at their home and ask each member of the household two basic questions.
Do you believe that our world Muteria and the universe as a whole came to be of its own power, outside the prevalence of any intelligent designer, and it has no function beyond existing for the living?
Do you believe or have you ever believed in the collective being known as “the Cosmic?”
The answers to both questions were “Yes” for the first, and “No” for the second. The vast majority of Muterians were able to answer correctly, and they were allowed to go about their daily trials. But, if they answered incorrectly, they were detained and taken to the nearest specialized correctional institution.
This procedure had changed from previous years, when any Muterian who was discovered to be a Cosmician was executed. Ruling parties discovered that this action only caused more fervor in the Cosmic fellowship, and the executions were halted. The imprisonment method turned out to be much more effective in wheedling down the numbers of Cosmicians. Zealots would be administered drugs, convulsive shocks, and other means of correcting behavior such as solitude, confinement, food restriction, and sleep deprivation under the direction of psychiatric doctors. The best doctors boasted the fastest results. After the asylums were founded, the only deaths that resulted were suicides.
The M’kani Governing Consulate declared progress.
Ildiecza continued recording.
Have faith always, even when those who do not believe demand proof of the existence of the Cosmic. What is true to one may not be true to another, and sometimes the only truth is faith. Have faith always, even when it seems the power and blessing of the Cosmic does not exist. The world is imperfect, and its beings flawed as well. Though some would claim “I have not killed anyone,” or “I have never stolen anything,” none are entirely blameless. It is not that the Cosmic allows ill to fall upon the universe, but rather that wickedness has a life of its own, like a disease that overtakes the weak and innocent.
Condemnation…exclusion…these were never principles of the Cosmic yet some individuals perverted the ancient laws to further their own means, be they restricting access of the redemption found in the Cosmic, or even simply making one group feel more superior over another. These teachings of the Cosmic are false, and should not be heeded. Hear me, brothers and sisters, for these were the true laws of the Cosmic:
Honor the Cosmic above all else.
Worship not any image or physical manifestation.
Do not dishonor or pervert the name of the Cosmic.
Remember the Ritual of Reverence.
Give honor to the beings that give you life and raise you to adults.
Do not unjustly take the life of another.
Do not cultivate inappropriate relations with one other than your life-mate.
Do not profess falsities as truth.
Do not take from others what is not yours.
Do not long for the personal articles of others.
In all these words, remember these most of all:
Devote yourself in heart and body to the Cosmic.
Devote yourself in heart and soul to all those around you.
Redemption comes only from the Cosmic, given freely to those who desire it.
Suddenly, the cloaking shield shorted and failed, and several Authoritariats burst into the room, brandishing their strongest weaponry and pointing it at the two youths.
Katarné quickly stood to his feet. His face paled.
Ildiecza continued recording.
“Yetelli Ildiecza, you are hereby charged with the high crimes of zealotry and professing false ideologies. Do you deny these charges?” The Authoritariat commander asked.
“I do not,” Ildiecza replied, her attention unwavering.
“Don’t—don’t listen to her. She’s confused,” Katarné said, forcing a laugh.
“You have one chance to renounce your beliefs. Declare to us now the Cosmic does not exist and you may go free.”
“Ildiecza! Please!” Katarné begged.
“I cannot.”
“Take her to Holding,” the commander ordered.
“Please, sir, reconsider! She is simply sleep-deprived! She’s been working on this project extensively and has had very little rest! She doesn’t know what she’s saying!” Katarné cried. The Authoritariats ignored his pleas, and proceeded to restrain the girl, who kept recording until her hands and feet were shackled.
She did not struggle. The Authoritariat commander sneered at her.
“So, just giving up, are you? Excellent. That show of cowardice will surely make you lose followers. Pretty soon, every asylum in Muteria will be keeping the public safe from you maniacs. We’ll have you all under lock and key before you destroy our lives and our freedom.”
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