18 June 2009

The Phoenician's Thirst

The dark is rising over the night. A moment in time before the quickening when most dreams occur, the fire opened up the night and shook the living monoliths from their sleep.

the prophets have been blessed with certain images and enigmatic information for years, trying to make sense of what they were, was mostly their concern, but waiting for what they were and studying them without their knowledge tried the patience of the gods.

But not until recently had the creatures of the night began to alarm these born defenders. An ominous voice somewhere as it were, was ready to show what the gargoyles were finally able to receive.

As a group of politically subversive religious zealots were reading transcendent subject matter. The fore flying whom had been involved with religious institutions for more than their natural life, began to demonize every official capacity of corruption beginning with executive councils in power of the largest evangelical organization on their world. Torturing harbingers they seemed, as they taunted and teased their malicious meals.

During that same time Loki, one of the immortal shifters of appearance, was in conference with the council of the red army with talks of alliances and great and wealthy investments with opportunity to expand their presence to a regular audience, if desired. though there was none to make alliance with.

Yet it was not until a brief stint working with exorcisms that any had come face to face with authentic mystical deception and had finally begun questioning the differences between indoctrination and revelation, knowledge and wisdom, religion and relationship, good and evil, yet only a few of the red armies youth held contempt or mistrust of the soothsaying shape-shifter, but it was there at last that Loki's arrogant disposition, which had served his significant ego like a triumphant battle horse for decades, fell weak, that is to say arose suspicion in the minds of the elder guard. The sword of a superb memory allows men to chop down others with proof texts and so-called writs of fact had at once become as empty as winter night, so those who had concern left with their captain and fled the scene discarding their colors en route.

Loki would not know what had happened until later, as only gods know everything, and he could only see what was in the eyes of others if that they were focused and sober, because who knows what truths humanity can sing. The troop headed to the city on the mountain.

later through necessity rebirth and change of heart and mind had come for The Phoenician outside the city of the priest king. Some of the people whom had survived the gargoyles would suffer the conspiracy that would come from The Phoenician being raised by Morgan le Fay, whom at this time still answered to that name. She reconstituted the masterful wizard as any parlor jester could have but with a faux understanding of what can be called an enigmatic truth.

Her naivety and blind acceptance, especially of specific controlled versions of the prophecies, as history has kept so many in the dark, blinded even the best prophetic clerics who worshiped the dark muse, from the actual course of events. She began her spell and ritual and the ground began to glow white in the shape of a circle and she could not escape. as the light grew the stone floor opened and swallowed her with fire, the fire receded into the floor and it eventually retained its original appearance. The frightening man stood where a pillar of fire was just moments before and yet newly awakened with a deafening sound the powerful sorcerer awoke a network of hidden powers around the nation as he had unleashed upon that world years before.

Then came illusion, one of the seven muses, and gave him a ring from its master and left this and the other pieces of The Phoenician's puzzle to begin falling into place. Walking naked through streets of the town where he had arisen, he headed to the church to get the proper robes he desired to wear, from the priests who could not wear shabby things. He had not yet begun to discover the mystery which accompanied a dark and large circular mark full of symbols on his back as the world to him was still in a terrifying a prophetic cipher which held an answer hidden in a past he was absent from. Steadily he strode taking a sheet of cloth and wrapping it around his waistline, stolidly embracing the symbols flashing through his mind of the lamenting people, as he walked through a nearly empty city in terror of a church covered in blood and treacherous demons having a blood war, as they flew overhead and perched feeding on the ledges of the church. The beasts cower at the sight of the Phoenician. as he marches the steps unto the door they open it for him.

On top of a toppled throne sat the largest monster, surrounded by a dozen of as nearly large followers, clean of the chaos their flock was causing. Collectively they moved aside and let the Phoenician reset the throne. Before he sat he lifted the already open seat and pulled a bottle of wine from within the massive chair and took seat on the lavish though gruesomely stained chair....

(part of the untitled - work in progress - Merlin story by M.J.Banks - copyright & all rights reserved)