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Eons after the creation of the universe, and after the rise and development of innumerable species and cultures, the Great Spirit descends upon the very heart of creation, the cradle of life: Eoris. This planet bears the universe’s name and lays in the farthest reaches of the cosmos where reality turns to dream. Eoris is the birthplace of the first mortal creatures, the mecca of civilisation, and the sanctuary of the ‘Sil’, angels of creation and direct descendents of God.

A few years after her arrival, God unconsciously proclaims her wish to die, a call only her angels can sense. This event marks the beginning of a new war, one that confronts the mighty empires of the mortals that strictly oppose the destruction of the Great Spirit against the ‘Last Angels’, celestial creatures that descended from the heavens to fulfil the celestial mandate.

In this war, the nature of our devotion to God opposes our need to live.

What is more important... God or her creation?

Monday, 27 January 2014

Story #3

Not a week and a crowd swells around the crystal. A line of whispering people draws back to the river near the road, all trade’s men, all hoping to join axe and stone and sliver the thing into sellable pieces. Some disagree, but business is necessary, especially for a damned village like theirs. In front of it all stands the man, owner and master of the event holding a young boy’s hand. His son. He whispers with ones he holds dear as they all try to reach an agreement on how to keep the thing a secret, how to capitalize, or even how to get rid of it for the sake of their people. “It is vital that we inform the Scian.” Says one who is unable to look at the beast within the rock. He is too afraid. “The Scian may help…” whispers another. “…but they will not pay. We will lose it and gain nothing.” Another steps up and grabs the man by the shoulder. “We must sell it to the city’s museum, they pay very well. I heard from a friend’s cousin, a similar thing happened there. He became the richest man on the village. The party lasted a whole month. Drinks all around. He said there were drunk men walking the streets for weeks.” The man looks to the thing as the busy trade’s men who have pledged silence attempt to break pieces of its crystallised roots. “Yes, we must sell it whole…” He says. “…this chipping away of the crystal has to stop, by how do we take it there?” “My brother has a Digger, big thing. It can carry a house, I’ve seen it.” Whispers another, eyes open trying to catch the attention of the man that runs the show.  “That thing is rusted and old.” Says the first to speak with worry in his voice. “What if we break it? What if that creature is set lose?” “it is a creature of God, not an enemy of us.” Says another. 

“Your brother’s digger, bring it. It’ll do for us.” The man has spoken loudly and they all simply turn to look at the thing as they acknowledge his decision. “We will have new cattle brought in exchange, no money. I’m serious…” He insists. “…it corrupts the soul. We need food and things to sell.” The men agree as they put their hands on the man’s shoulders and back, a sign of affection and agreement. They sense his wisdom and follow his lead. Amongst them the small boy, not older than 10, stares from amongst the men to the silent crystal and the face of the dormant creature within. He holds his dad’s hand firmly.

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