So I came across a story this morning. I vaguely remember writing it, and don’t remember where it was going. The date on the file said it was written early last month, to my surprise. Seemed like ages ago. So i decided to run with it and bring it to a reasonable(if not cliche) conclusion, as I saw fit. It was fun exercising old muscles while writing.
Hope you enjoy 😀
I am Prince Callisto.
In the eons of my youth, when my clan had gone forth and consumed the universe in anger, and I was fearless, and the strength of my arm was starved for battle, I moved off alone into the dark unknowns, drawn by the sense of wonders that my eyes may not yet have beheld. I joined swords with woeful demons in the fissures beneath the seas, and have drowned chimerae in flowing seas of their own fire. I have walked upon the surface of stars and heard from distances which would take you infinite generations to traverse, the songs of dying spirits in the belly of ancient worlds.
My wings have beat upon cloud of flaming helium and my tongue has tasted the bile of poisonous rivers. I bear upon my left wing the scars from when I did battle with a tree which stood eternal upon a distant world whose light came from the murderous generosity of two stars, and severed my left foot in the jaws of a horror disguised as the thirst quenching oasis of an arid planet
I have fled scores of universes and slept for centuries on worlds that fail memory, and in a moment of considerable ennui, watched the evolution of a species from murky oceans until I revealed myself and was unto them a god. I stayed with them until they conquered the local stars; we became weary of each other and I left to seek new things. They stirred the nest of their extra-terrestrial doom light years away from home, for I watched from a great distance away and arrived too late to save them from their own science.
But it was the way of Life, I thought, and forgive the conquering races as I left them to the spoils of war and beat my wings into voids yet unsearched.
Until I scanned the skies of a strange world one purple sunrise, and perceived the blink of a new star which had not twinkled at me the evening before. Shooting through the clouds and traversing unheard-of distances to investigate it, I saw that it was like nothing I had ever come across, being composed of light and unsearchable realities. My awe, usually hungry for impression, was totally subjected to the brilliant wonder that this star was, for the sight of it filled me with an exultation which memory could not douse. But soon, drawing near unto the strange sight, I sensed high sentience though the thing in the centre of the blaze was hidden from me, and drawn to speak in the deep baritone characteristic to my clan, I enquired as to its nature. And it answered back to me, deep in the recess of my mind, so that it words were a mixture of a sonorous orchestra and the rumble of a hundred temblors. I sensed it was a being of war.
Mosadiel, it sang, the cherub who brings upon thee the doom of the Most High.
Cherub? What was a Cherub? In my befuddlement, I was ill prepared, for in a moment of time, a blade of light arched out from the centre of the star and came at me.
But the instincts of war was become of my character, and I fled from my position, upon which the blade of light ripped apart the space-time continuum where I was, and I witnessed the doom which would have befallen me had I been a trifle slowed.
Extending claws from recesses which time and disuse had stiffened, I roared with anger at this object of discord and allowed my wings to project me forward towards it, notwithstanding the indescribable brilliance and heat at its centre.
It apparently did not expect this, whether from a sense of immortality, and from previous warring experience, but as I delved towards its essence, it uttered a noise of surprise, which I found instantly gratifying, and barely moved away as my claws which had demolished mountains of burning diamond during my rite of passage tore through it. Though ephemeral the being first seemed, I groaned in pain as a claw of mine was ripped off, for my hand was stopped dead in its whipping motion; the cherub was apparently composed of material denser even than frozen chrysolite.
A searing pain tore through my wing as I intersected the fiery effulgence of this Cherub. A moment later, I was shrouded in the cold darkness of the cosmos. I looked up and there it was, high above me. I could not see into the light, but I sensed its aggravation deep within me, so that I was filled with (unbelievable!) fear.
The swinging blade of light was already swung at me, when I found myself calling upon its mercy.
I believed the creature heard, for that was the only reason it could have winked out of existence at that moment, instilling in me a dire warning regarding my exit from that Universe.
Old Callisto bared teeth in a grimace as his huddled listeners shifted uncomfortably, causing claws to meet with wings noisily. How weak they are.
‘So shamefully, beaten, I returned to the hollow Mountains Of Brimstone, and told the Ancients about my encounter. They laughed me to scorn and derided my weakness and apparent youth in the face of a wiser sentience. But their curiosity was aroused, and they sent the tested and proven warrior Luciferus (the noble fire-bearer who sired me), and a band of six, that they may go forth and tread the stars of that strange cosmos and learn what they could about this clan of cherubs who were stronger than frozen chrysolite’
Burning eyes roved over the visage of his listeners. They strared at the place where a claw was hung
‘And so it is that to this evening, my father and his cohorts have not returned again unto us’
A throaty noise from one of his listeners drew his attention.
‘Old Callisto, what do you think happened to them?’
‘I do not know. Perhaps they are lost in the labyrinth of universes which dot the continuum, perhaps they have been defeated by a horde of Cherubs’
At that, the tale was told, and the assembled youngsters of that race of dragons which were the Nareff dispersed into the underground cities, back to their uneventful lives. In time to come, when their strength had matured, they would dismiss the tales of old Callisto as the ramblings of an broken Nareff.
Old Callisto returned to his lair, beating the hot air expertly with ribbed wings. He limped through the door, and climbed unto a platform of heated rock, for the warm of his scale was ebbing, and his old body was prone to the chill of that age.
His eyes closed and he slept fitfully, dreaming again of his father in a kingdom of white light, bowing before a throne upon which sat an emerald glory he knew in the dream as the Almighty.
Feel free to go through the blog if divine fiction and fantasy is your thing. Or even Scifi 😀
Thank you for your time.