He could hear the music of creation around him as he listened. The somber strains compelled him to keep walking slowly forward, the air still around him. He was reminded of the grave as he tumbled forward, his foot missing a step. So he fell onto the gray pavement, his wrist cracking insensate.
The noise picked up all around him again as the music disappeared. Each moment was nothing more than a flash of time, the world going around him ignorant of his place in it.
He opened his mouth in a terrible and great scream.
But nobody was listening.
Herrek hadn’t gotten the chance to see Lethe before it burned. Born on the frontiers of the empire, he had always had his eyes turned home.
But the empire was too large, Lethe’s influence too wide-spanning, for just anyone to return home. Travel was expensive, and not without risks—how little they had known—so he had been stuck on a frontier world mired in dust, mud, and rebels.
The Hammer had been his chance to return to the land of his forefathers, to go back to Lethe.
He arrived to ashes, the burnt shell of a once-proud civilization.
Continue reading “The Flames (Part 1)”
He felt the cold breeze settle into his bones as he stared out at the neon lights of the city. His ears tuned out the noise, listening for the music that underpinned the bustle and life.
Soon, he thought, they would have their chance.
He returned to the apartment, and his lover. She was caught in repose, sleep having taken her hours earlier, head on the armrest of the sofa that he’d purchased when he moved into the apartment.
Continue reading “Topple the Giant, Part I”
the old man looked at his son, the walls of his bed-chamber closing in around him at his final moments. it was not fear that consumed him, but hope, even though his breaths drew shorter and further apart. his son’s words echoed in his ears as he began to see his greatest journey repeat in his mind.
“Do you remember why we are here?”
Continue reading “allegoria”