| Subject: Rate please |
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IMXticlese
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Date Posted: 04:05:11 11/17/02 Sun
O, the fateless winds of time, hither and thither in your movements, do you understand the pain of Orkus?
Watch, my fellow, and understand the rage of a youth and the pain of history-repeat what once was and have what is to be? I believe it has been the trend of old.
Yesteryear was the coronation of a proud man unto the throne of true power - love - and unto him was granted the hand of the fair one he had been seeking since his father’s coronation into the circle of elders.
Alas, his limited experience with the fair one had been a hindrance and in keeping with this, he truly could not fathom the depths into which his soul had plunged for into those crystalline blue eyes he would forever be trapped, his last step into the light of that day would be his last, yet he willing withdrew into the blue.
For common men a year would be a lifetime of waiting, but for Orkus a year was but a moment while he held in his arms the fair one, the main focus of his life and a love unlike any the previous of the former generations could ever truly experience.
Life was but a miracle and every lasting moment was a distinct pleasure for the young man who held in his arms the fair one. Her touch was like that of silk, a beautiful thing yet soft to the touch and unbroken by the arrows of love. His only fear was losing her.
The sun was never a hindrance for Orkus, for by it’s light he could see the fair one’s face and beautiful skin.
The dark was never a hindrance for Orkus, for by it’s darkness he could wait for the coming of the light.
The peaceful meadow in which they made their house was truly a magnificent sight, alas, it was burned to the ground by those who would revel in the makings of another empire’s riches.
Orkus hand was guided to his sword as the fair one was overtaken by the savages as though she were the greatest prize in all the land.
“Hear my plea, oh my god of gods, and grant unto me the glorious task of overtaking thy children to make right the word of a man!” shouted Orkus into the heavens as his god stared blatantly into Orkus’ eyes.
“My son, the word of a man shall be made right by your hand, as I have decreed this day that you shall rise to quell the ambitions of the children that I have bore.” the god of gods whispered to Orkus.
Blood drenched and ravaged, the children fell to the singing steel as though they were the wheat to a sickle, one by one and two by two they were felled. Orkus’ screeches of strength and wisdom were deafening to the common man as he was at that point the true son of the god of gods. By his arm swift justice was dispensed and by his wisdom his strength was steered to make right the word of a man.
The true captor of the fair one would not have been laid to rest at such a short interval however. Furthermore the captor stole away by the wings of the night and retired to the stage coach of hell; a burning vehicle lead by a crazed demon. The fair one’s eyes grew with sudden desire as the waves of the demons washed over her, and Orkus’ love for her was forsaken, his word was forsaken, and his soul was shattered.
Orkus strode on, a river of blood, truly a beautiful sight, was being formed in his wake. The calling of the fair one grew louder, yet it was not his name that she called, but that of her captor. Orkus’ heart grew heavy as he could never reach the place of his beloved to take her by her hand and win her again.
Her body was intertwined with that of her captor, for he now not only held her in his arms, but he also held her heart. His voice was that of a soothing melody, and his body was that of hardened steel. His hair was crimson like the blood that Orkus’ drew for her. His eyes were the softest of amber, and in them she could see infinity. It was then that she had truly forsaken Orkus and made his word null.
Orkus’ rage, boundless, his suffering, boundless, and his love, boundless, spilled the blood of those before him only to make him see the fair one and her captor ride off, their intertwining naked bodies reflecting off of the moonlight and straight into Orkus’ mind. It was then that Orkus fell to the stares of the corpses around him and truly felt alone amongst the night sky.
“O, my god of gods, I have failed in my task to make right the word of a man, to make right the word of a lover and of a youth. I have failed in my task, and I have failed all the more as my soul has been shattered, as though the icy steel of my will has in turn punctured me and let loose the warlord’s grip on my heart... O, my god of gods, I have failed in my task to make right the word of a man, and today I offer my heart to you...” cried Orkus, through the tears his suffering was made evident.
“My son of sons, I watched through tear brimmed eyes the defeat of man, the defeat of the god of gods, and the defeat of your convictions. I watched through blood and through bone, and I watched through the heavens, but don’t despair until vengeance and wrath have overtaken you, my son of sons. My son of sons, you are to rise again and take her hand, for I decree it.” whispered the god of gods through the heavens, boring into the soul of Orkus.
“I lament to you my god of gods, and I bore this steel into my heart for all time as tribute to the guidance you so generously grant me...” and Orkus drove his sword into his heart. The retrieval of the sword by Orkus’ hand was a slow process, but the wound seemed to pulse with an undying pain and energy. Orkus’ eyes brightened as the god of gods withdrew, but a bitter smile had cross the god of gods’ face, a truly rare thing by the account of many of the elders.
“Go with the strength of a thousand men, and the speed of a fine horse, my blessed son, and carry on your back the wings of destitute men and the scales of impoverished children...” the god of gods yelled, the heavens and the grounds shaking under the immense weight of his convictions. And so bled Orkus into the night, his body leaving a trail of endless blood into the night sky...
It's a work in progress
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