Post by Nef Derath on May 30, 2012 1:38:45 GMT -5
Life and death are truths, inextricably linked to the balance of this reality. Nowhere is this fact more appreciable than the act of childbirth. A woman fights to bring new life into this world without subsequently sacrificing her own. You see, Death follows expectant mothers. Not stalking, or hunting...merely waiting. Waiting for a misstep in the precarious cabaret of incubation, prepared to escort mother, child, both, into the afterlife. The labour itself becomes a whirlwind tango, Life and Death always balanced, always maintained...
It is in these moments that I am able to act.
I, Agent of Change, exist primarily outside of your reality, and therefore am able to percieve each and every probable future. I work inexorably toward revitalization. My counterpart prefers stagnation.
Thus, we find ourselves at odds.
In your mortal reality, a storm brews. I can feel it, an old energy, returning. A chance to intercede.
He feels it as well.
The storm breaks, lightning crashes, and our endless game begins.
A mother-to-be feels her first contraction. I see twins...Destined for greatness...but not if she raises them. I make my first move, my foe counters admirably. Life and Death waltz graceful circles around our table.
I begin to feel the force of urgency...Gravitas itself. I must succeed.
A tree falls...
A felthera is startled...
Husband and father thrown...
Neck broken. A small victory.
The enemy moves, the doctor arrives, the balance shifts.
...And on they dance, spinning, spiraling.
Thunder rolls, the twins begin to cry...I spot an opening. I strike.
Life claims the children. Death claims mother and father. The doctor is left with two new orphans.
The storm ends.
The metamorphosis of the macrocosm begins.
Time passes around us...And the storm builds again.
The cycle continues; children left without one progenitor, perhaps both.
A boy with no mother, a girl left to her grandparents...
A mother dies, her lover long dead...a baby girl opens, for the first time, angelic eyes, within which the very turn of the universe is evident. Her new guardian becomes lost therein...
And thus, the stage is set...For Change.
It is in these moments that I am able to act.
I, Agent of Change, exist primarily outside of your reality, and therefore am able to percieve each and every probable future. I work inexorably toward revitalization. My counterpart prefers stagnation.
Thus, we find ourselves at odds.
In your mortal reality, a storm brews. I can feel it, an old energy, returning. A chance to intercede.
He feels it as well.
The storm breaks, lightning crashes, and our endless game begins.
A mother-to-be feels her first contraction. I see twins...Destined for greatness...but not if she raises them. I make my first move, my foe counters admirably. Life and Death waltz graceful circles around our table.
I begin to feel the force of urgency...Gravitas itself. I must succeed.
A tree falls...
A felthera is startled...
Husband and father thrown...
Neck broken. A small victory.
The enemy moves, the doctor arrives, the balance shifts.
...And on they dance, spinning, spiraling.
Thunder rolls, the twins begin to cry...I spot an opening. I strike.
Life claims the children. Death claims mother and father. The doctor is left with two new orphans.
The storm ends.
The metamorphosis of the macrocosm begins.
Time passes around us...And the storm builds again.
The cycle continues; children left without one progenitor, perhaps both.
A boy with no mother, a girl left to her grandparents...
A mother dies, her lover long dead...a baby girl opens, for the first time, angelic eyes, within which the very turn of the universe is evident. Her new guardian becomes lost therein...
And thus, the stage is set...For Change.