Dark Ages: Fire
Dreamer, sleeping on a wire, tied between two clouds, the tide of the breeze, playing games with worlds, on the fields of the gods' children, storied, blighted lands. With raptor, with snakes of the oasis, impenetrable seed, and deadly perfume, inexplicable, where humans are toys, and demons are insects, favorable to the underworld, as many, wicked, spurious, perhaps. As many, waves upon the mountains, the ocean sleeps on the peaks of volcanoes, omnipotent, to many, as many, to few afforded, so many, among many others, whirlpools and pterodactyls, plethora, plenitudes, immortals, charged to rule humanity by order of the gods, multitude, too many, desperation, fate, choice, perhaps.
Moreover, when your god does not answer, find the antichrist among you, remove the soul, so spirits of fire may march to the shore, to the end of the world where haven does not reign, jump from the edge of your world, the winds shall die. The infinite order, rebellion to otherworldly slavery, you will, buried in the darkness, where the air is thick with death, you will crave to breath the dusk that rules the light, dying name I am. Begging for salvation, angels spread their wings, painted red with blood, evilest, bereft, unrequited, a season for slaughter, escaping the shifter. Smoke in the room, ducats of the devil, thrown overboard, sinking, drifting, drowned in the locker, Shinto is your threshold as you escape with ease, strike and vanish, to contend when and where you please. Portals to new gateways opened by the mind, dealings, trappings, death by the vine, buried in leaves, swinging from trees, pollination, plant, animal, burlap, for those thirsting for the stars, above, beyond.
Therein lies continue, Déjà Vu the demons have your soul, why would, they let it go, flower petals and burning embers, falling, from the sky, degradation of reality, death by imagination. Babies of demons splashing in acid, drowning, breathing, whirlpools and wormholes, ashes, diamonds, fabric, knives and wolves and poison, in two, by two, the weapon, dark, the wind above the war, fallen, forbidden, fiery eyes, stone walls of fury, madness, dementia, the soil, prison of the dead, never, nothing, even the crucified, mettlesome, meddlesome, servant of words.
The holy moon, echoing demonic mantra, ambivalent, the light torn from my soul I am driven to it, the lunacy divine, the soil of formation, where wizards duel, and witches watch disaster. The broken heart of the sun, anchor of souls, the tide, creatures of the night, sacrifices of blood, to raise the kings and queens, murdered of inequity, returned to the earth, bonds of the earth consumed by preying beast, ever longing for the wicked.
Bathing in the shadow, echoes, riot, asleep in the acid rain, aversion, veiled destruction, when else is lost, fair bled, leap between worlds, rivers traversed by dire horse and whittled cross, Viking funeral. Venomous veins, buried at sea with a maiden, in the old way, the last of this way, onward at distant shore, dawn.
Of a new age, the birth of eternity, blasphemous roots, verily, unto thee, war not loss. Without divine prophet amongst, white forests, of sacred birch, songbirds, with a message from flax, just and merciful, a survivor by storm, yes, savior slave, respectful polestar, morrow to mourn, servile, for we are many, hastening to this chosen existence by the fate ancestry, surrendering for infiltration, disguise by disbandment, solacing massacre, the fragile link to evolution.
Periled they set themselves afire, in protest, kindling, while the voices cried, thatch houses would not hear them for the many years of the second age. The earliest monuments their first writs and a fabled story book in the voice of the slaves, to fall upon wary ears, and the cursed war began in the name of religion just as each the latter and sequential. In the by and by, and the one who walks on water rests with the tribe of attributes and the brigands, death by daylight, sad way, all are thankful. They, weak, without tribulation, thou a word for slave once, go you ever, sentenced to sunlight, they, by suspect, saw this contract in suspicion, ages unto the day, knew not they sold their soul, signed the deed by greed of blood, and walked on the grass remembering hell, drink the spoils of war. Where the creatures of the dark beckon with apprehension at command, to read these words a final time this life relived will end, powers of imagination, where the leaders have the madness, malaise and false claim, but when they scratched their skin the vessel breaks offering submission to the demons. Unwitting, unwarranted, treachery, trappings, shelter, storied evil of all lore, shall the wretched hasten reckless abandon, crawling among humanity to homage the prince of darkness, becoming, possessor, heretofore, this calling, to judgment, simply, emotional decay, fill of volition, the demons do torture, to do the devil's bidding.
A system, of eyes in paintings, spies of art, instantly as drawn, protected, and restored. Immortal, staring, frozen eyes, drawings within drawings, readily, where the statues are alive, for rivers of pious blood, leaders among feigning zealots, and they drank until they grew wings to become the first demons and the humans as always had little faith for then they became the first vampires. The tales of evil, artifice, as the angels killed them one and then the next and then another, sparing the fealty and the soldiers of fortune. Erroneous worshipers were slaughtered and eaten by the angels who savor fear, ‘we are one’ the warriors with wings inveigh, the war of the winds, a storm of ages, wicked, elated, bound the world, conforming, settling, every ready to lead the souls to heaven.
Then there became a flood, pouring around the roots of the wicked garden, to become the mist in the sun, or sink into rivers and aquifers, or become the solid ice, to freeze over hell. Damnation, notion, clays for the first bone-fire, walls and irrigation for the first crop, the first reservoir, at which first the Valkyrie laughed, and taunted, prizing the nations and the splendor of witchcraft. Languor and dismay in flight exhausted those without shore, they became the murky mire, the waters drain, freeze, and dissipate, and the surviving angels collected their dead and returned to heaven repairing their brethren with the souls of the bewitched. So many belonging to the pale mask and the gold glowing eyes of darkness touched they the newborns chosen to be the first immortals, listening to their plight. At ease to never watch, and from the spilled blood came the forest, and unto the trees, fire, to the mountain tops, to warm the hall of the mountain king, jester and trickster, kin to heaven and hell. Fast inside emotion, silent in the light, devious of blue blood, Loki, a secret of both the Vanir and Aesir, the bastard of the Jotun and, eventual traitor to Odin the Allfather, given to Freya and Tyr and the Norns, seer in all darkness with spiritual divining visions, taught were the parables of clouds by Heimdall. Loki ate much from Yggdrasil the tree of life, thence he sired a daughter with one of the Valkyrie, discovered he the waters and the fires pouring into a great cavern beneath the worlds of the new Aesir conqueror Odin. Loki named the chasm Hell in honor of his newborn daughter Hel, rebel does him in services to the king, for in each duty the destruction tantamount, and his eight generals of hell cause much egregiousness. Even in the war of the blind does he make game of slaughter and for this, the wicked angels followed him into Hell. In truth, soon spawned the demonic, to grant the omens, voiceless, bringing the circle of fire to the damned, to burn. As the nine races grow, curt, becoming, and on them in the days of beginning the witches discovered magic, the alchemy index, and the first spell, an orchestra of the muses, the pagan gods, aside the monarch god, watching the wrath of the wicked.
In the hourglass, a grain of sand, in a glass of hellfire, a dead seed, from it the first birch, growth and broken skin, from it the first spear, that the Ice Witch made in an offering of order, that she may use it when visiting her beloved winter sea. Mist was a serf whom brought the gods mead, when Odin would not let her leave Mist tried to poison him with rotten grapes, the god king noticed this and threw her to Midgard. The Ice Witch and the Fire Witch saw the fall to her death and raised her from the earth.
They became the darkness trinity and the first coven of the witch, hated in the empire, and loathed by the druids. In the witches’ blood, they drew the first rose, a thorny doom, and it grew underbrush toward the forest of the wolves. Winter sang to the wolves and held them in her grasp with gentile grace, Loki would later take the king of the wolves and twist its soul and sate it with his own blood to make the wretched Fenrir. Winter gave her wolves thorns in their mouths, and taught them to fear the fire and the fog, never would catechism supplant. When abandoned they howl at the moon as ever white as the Winter witch, and fight they do over the food she did not tender them, faithful to the failure of their prey, nothing, if not devout, carnage to thou bones until a new hunt, judgment to the order of the forest shadow. Behind all light with power of the cosmos, the shade that intrigued the Lucifer before transgression, excommunicated, banished, and saw the shadow speaking with the great Satan. Hel did not burn the air as the light bringer landed where ice would not go, and as he breathed, he stole the powers of Mist so she tore his wings from his shoulders, and baptized was he in the holy fire. As of then joining the ranks of hell, through the ages of the hourglass, and saving the dead to march them at Ragnarök.
Sought is the second death to the unanswered questions of creatures immortal. Torment, the day and then the shade, and the vampires watched from the shadows and sunsets. The wise old serpent's tongue, readily, and as the thunder plays the lightning wakes to protect it. The fires make merry hell as thunderbolts strike, the sight of the fire freely made the old willow was the first to weep as its branches fell lachrymose. The life of a tree longing for darkness belongs to the weeping willow, and each the next, and the witches began their toil, watching the tears of the crying gods the Ice witch froze the sky. The Fire witch burned until the ashes were a black river, and in this drought and torridness, the Mist witch raised the first Phoenix. Reared to fight the Jotun Dragons, the phoenix blood that boils took keen affection to the hellfire, where the Fire witch colored it with the blood of a demon and the disingenuous.
Then the Ice witch brought the phoenix her faery snow so that it would not exhaust, and the Mist filled the creature’s lungs with the winds of her precious mint leaf that it would not breathe fire. Longer than the list of memory had the fairies lived in the worlds of the dwarfs, and when the dwarf mines would unearth treasures the fairies would often steal the rubies for their resting ground and use the diamonds to line their pools, and on their wings edges of sharpened steel so sharp to swift and slice a dragon. Even these sprites feared the phoenix for it could eat the darkness to fuel fires that melt precious metals. It was there a war began led by the blind king Hodur, and the Phoenix and its mistresses tired of the chaotic commons. No worries burdened to the beasts of worlds, slaves to misfortune their war with the giants would tarry forth, into the world of the light and the dark elves, to stage a war their own against the dragon riders.
Thus began a dark war by the dark lords of hell while the gods slept, pure ruthlessness seen scattered in the wars of men, and bowed they at the king dragon. The weapons fell and the monsters scattered into the other worlds if they could, and when Odin woke he bade that Hel and all the monsters were to live in hell. Odin tore the sky and the stars fell until those born of fire were in retreat, but the sound lured the Phoenix and struck it was by a falling star, and the god king saw his wickedness. The star nested over it until the light faded, and it crawled from the ashes, and returned to eat the blue leaves of the sacred white birch, and the dark lords of hell spent the day cutting the tongues of the demons so that they could not speak of their loss. By the trickster’s stern order, the vampires therefrom sleep during the daylight and let loose upon the worlds of night. In the nights to come they feasted on blood, the dark elves were slow, the light elves were swift and soon slept with the humans, and an entire world was merged and lost. The blood drinkers worshiped their blood slaves, and the heartbeats echoed as the hunters of the other worlds made bloodsport, and gave Viking funerals, warlords and witches valiant and vanguard, but the Jotun slaughtered them for their slaughter. Scattered into the night winds, readily, making path for the wizards of the third age. Children of demons and the children of mixed blood of the nine worlds, elders and the boys and girls not infants, youth in haste from their mothers, would war upon the other through all the ages latter. Each in their own way wielding the powers of their worlds, unguided, fresh gods in the age of mortals, with wars of humans the demons who could not deprecate their evil began their hell sport. The maze to the challenge of the chasm, hiding from the Minotaur, a victory will give you possession of a human's body, in defeat no rest for the wicked, and the prisoners of hell cried for their ancestor. The demons helped them call, and the sinners were all lost.
The wizards of the many rival schools pondered on what to do with Midgard. As the first warlock departed hell, and the demon killed the first man it met, and took his face, then spake secretly, accomplice, “…to kill the master…”, and set itself on the path to the magician of the north wind. Fearful of aspersion, it took a new face each morning opportunity, and wolves eat each copied victim and every posse sent as the Ice Witch eyes the north storm. The fairies followed the demoniac warlock in the day as a butterfly, and in the night as a star. On the sixth day, a lunatic saw the shape shifter for its true form, and the demon tied him to a tree, and ate him alive with the sharpest knives in the world. Soon would it kill the king of the forgotten poets, when the king of the north wind was dead the demon set to commit suicide and transmigrate its soul to hell, the Ice Witch froze the demon solid.
The fires of hell obey the great Loki, the coven is in order. From this magic was the first ice age, the humans hid in caves, the giants hunted hastily the largest beasts, the elves slept, and the dead never burned and never found, as the dwarfs dug into the ground, and the ice began to surround hell. The house of Vanir told Odin, the Allfather could not let the fires perish so he broke the ice world in two. With great thunders of spring, and the fires danced, the magicians could see through the storm again and renewed their conflict. In the winter too cold for the sun the darkness slept within the warlocks, by their actions does occur the first summoning, war unto god and devil. They whispered to the tail of dark midnight winds, the second demon summoned to Midgard, and it drank the blood of the evil warlock from his skull. The murderer haunted the land without call or calm, it taunted kings and kinder, and wars ended as the fearful trembled. Melancholy sickened Mist without patrons in her garden and she sharpened the blades of the elves, all at once in a single moment, and at the dawn, they attacked the demon, when the elves are enchanted by the morning, and drank its blood from its skull.
Odin asked his crows Huginn and Munin what the sinners were and after reconnaissance, they told him ‘the’ ‘dead’, for the demons had come from the ground, as did a another to command them with a face of soot, whose wrinkles cracked coal skin to reveal a fire. Went this hellion demon to the temple of polygamy and copulated with the high queen on the back of the dead king, and when he saw it was also a temple of slavery, he murdered her and turned her empire to a desert. The Vanir said nothing and the Aesir cared not, and those who led them from the desert would be old before their passing, the surviving arbiters became infidels. The dew of dawn and the deluge of dusk cared not for the sands, and then the demon sat in the middle of its desert with legs crossed and began rocking back and forth for six hundred sixty six days. Eventually it began to moan and groan and a golden dragon crawled out of the sand, six legs four wings two forearms, and it rode upon the beast and tormented, and threw molten sulfur, in reveille. When the wizards and warlocks tried to stop it with their conjured fire, it cut off their hands and fed their palms to the dragon so that it might breathe fire, and the worlds began to suffer, and the worlds began to worry. For all told it had come from the desert so they smote the human temples there, and it yet remained, and all told the dragon came from beneath the desert sands, so worlds began to blame the dark elves, for they are the ones who live in the mines. A war approached and the dwarfs came to answer, and consoled their accusers, went they to the dragon and the demon by an army in tithe. Commoners alike staring at a demon, food for the dragon, but they began swift and tensile with their hammers and picks, where the blood runs gold, threw they their hammers at the wings to keep it grounded, and pummeled the beast into malformation, and burnished the precious metal with the blood of the demon, and drinking from the demon’s skull.
Hence and then the sorcerers of each world set to fence their cemeteries, the livestock watch at night and the farmers work of the day to watch for dead crawling from the earth. In the night, two demons made of black smoke seeped from the ground and swam in the air and avoiding the light drifted into the dark forest. The smokes possessed the bodies of two hunters, asleep at sleeping near the river their souls were eaten, the demons wore the new bodies with pride and esteem, and they took ink and put the mark of the beast on their palms. Shared was the minds of these demons, “Poorly have the hunters trained,” “their thoughts,” “we must take us to the fortress of the night-lights,” and they were of one mind of malice, readily their thoughts connected. Said one “I will keep hostages,” said the other “I will not give mercy,” said they not more and entered the city, and they began to kill the innocent. When their bodies held many arrows the smoke would leap from their mouths into another host, consuming their souls as daylight dies, and would leap simultaneously when chanced and they took host of warriors and hid them then exited to continue their terror. Their ideal had murdered the city and they continued their carnage unrelenting through the lands, when they finished they burned everything to scorn the clouds so that Mist could not follow. The Ice witch would not have her subservient humans bowing to the smoke and not to her for spring's renewal for she seeks their frail adoration and not felon agony. She turned on them but through the smoke of the fires could not see that they were two, and she did her dance of freezing time but the demons were strong with their powers of fire and they moved slow but freely. So she made time colder so distant from her fortress that her veins began to freeze and pain her ever so, and she threw her silver knife and felled one who crashed like an ice reliquary filled with volcanic soot and ash. Demons twin began to glow with anger and when it charged her she took it by the throat and froze it solid, and she fell with a faint and white ague. The priest and olden wizard came and said their prayers over the ashes and the humans came with axe for the frozen twin, and they asked what would make the Ice witch well again and she said, “Bring me pails of water and pour them on the ground.” and they did. She crawled to the water, which froze solid at her touch, and they gasped in terror and stood with caution staring, as she crawled onto the frost white pool she rested in pain on the ice and began to sink into it as if it were quicksand.
Now we must turn the page, and relive, in balance immortals stray, and a font of magic bestows the better graces of wizardry, the trial of all tribulations, to conceit what temptation has misbegotten, by curses of envied gift, becomes the dawn of damnation.
The Fire witch was reading from the living book, the words write across the pages, and answers to riddles, and Hel sent four pagan knights of the hellion order, and the four rose from the ground at the sands and set themselves on their ways. Boreal, austral, occidental, and oriental, walking on the spines of mountains to the ocean caves at the end of the realm, and the worlds trembled. The perfect riddle makes a rhyme, in the south the dragon breathed fire and boiled the blood of the innocent, it was the first cloud, and the blood burned and rained darkness onto the people of the land. Then the dragon ate the demon as blood covered victims were delightful, and the dragon went to the bottom of the world and slept with full stomach and slept until time forgot it as it slowly turned to ice, and in the west the dragon carried Atlantis into the sea. There with rider it killed all the beasts but the cat-bull and the tiger-wolf, and on distant shore, they told lies in the whispers of the wind, the people ate each other in madness and starvation, and they spoke of war while the warriors forgot the gods. The demon would deceitfully save the people from false threat of the dragon so they would worship him, and for every day, he made them sacrifice others at the altar of lies, until the dragon tired of the ruse and tried to eat the demon. Wit of what had happened in the south he left for the center earth but the dragon found him and ate him, and in the east, the demon tamed the dragon, and made the people worship the dragon in fear. They brought it metals, precious stones, and the dragon at it all, and they slaved in the soil for many years, until the day when they attacked the demon in the blighted temple. The minion of hell is unchallenged as he burns them and everything else, but the fires of their forest burned so bright that he reveals himself to the clouds. The Valkyries disdain the fires burning their drifting clouds and take from the demon his clothes, he cursed them as they left, and the demon with scales and black fire made armor from gold, and for this the dragon ate him. In the north, the land was harsh as the first winter fell and the many different cloud spirits migrated north for their chance to fall from heaven, and the demon met the dragon whose fire came from its blood, and in the years of terror, the people grew in tribes and then cities. As they consumed the forest for the trees and the game as they please, the dragon resolves to eat them, and the demon laughs. Perilous the humans made havoc in rebellion, the people lost to the beast and their war had eaten every animal big enough for the dragon to catch. Without food the dragon ate the demon, the dragon's fire began to die, and the clouds continued to drift north, so the dragon began to eat the clouds, and the fire became the icy winds of the winter gale, and the watching Valkyries laughed.