Issue 6: Like A Violin
Is that all you know how to do? An escape pod. Pathetic!--Thoth
Which threads lead to the truth. I think you see it now. Those who read these preserved chronicles? Understanding is the first stage. --Noah
Sometimes the way forward requires a few sidesteps!--The Puzzler
Would the Curator like to replicate the Sleeping in Starlight Archives for 42nd century distribution? Please note: Redacted has accessed them on these following dates, within Universes….--Unseen Log Mandate: Operation Topbox
First City of Man
Inner Temple
Warden Circle
Integrating with New World Reliquary
Lorain groaned and rolled to her knees.
The sharp copper tang hit her nose like a battering ram. Eliza was suspended in the middle of the room. Her right hand grasped the curved talisman. The blood wasn't Eliza’s though. Doc knew Murphy’s vitals like the back of her hand. Blood flowed from the bottom curve of the rib. It dripped onto Eliza’s Silver Defender Uniform but no trace was left on the fabric. Lorain pulled herself to her feet. As she attempted to get closer the floor shifted. A treadmill motion that allowed for no recourse but to wait.
Even her Defender belt wasn’t responding.
∞
The man hung by dark threads. His eyes pierced through flesh, marrow and soul. I paused. His mouth moved. I strained to pick up the words….
“...thou are a shield...but are you ready...the climb is perilous….”
Hands pulled me through the floor. The dark gave away to an alien sun. My hands were not my own. I glanced over and spied dark shapes on the horizon. A man’s voice cried, “Cain!” Pain encircled my entire body as a dark shaft pierced my lung. Strong hands cradled me as I fell to the earth. “I shall have the favor of All.”
I watched helplessly as the attacker gutted his brother. He admired his grisly work by flashing the bit of bone in his hands. “This was the prize of the Oversoul? Tis but flesh and bone. What use is that?!”
White Scrawl curled about the rib bone.
A form materialized within the threads of the Dreaming. His purple eye metastasized around the killer. >>Take everything from him. Even his soul isn't his own.<< Weaver hissed. His claws dug into the ground.
<<See! Oversoul granted him an early death!>>
My link to Abel grew.
He wasn't dead. Not in the way Weaver desired. His dread gaze left marks within the Dreaming. Cain was linked to that fallen dominion for all eternity. I wasnt here to shield him however. White fire rained down from the sky and scooped the rib up. As it ascended the Weaver rammed a stone knife through Cain’s back.
He didn’t feel it. It wasn't that kind of knife. I watched as the Black Scrawl spread throughout his body. A vibrant purple thorn at its head. Those souls couldn't be saved. Abel whispered, “We hid your purpose within the bodies of newly made Thronebearers. You and your brother must guard….”
Silver Fox rose within my mind.
Dexter at her back. My back.
On each apposing hand? The Tears. One set of Creation. The other encompassed Decay.
I squinted. Not combined.
Realization sent a tremor up my spine.
We each wielded one of each Tear! Via each wave of our hands. The Dreamweaver lamented, >>These crippled demis shall not take my power!” The voice echoed from Thoth’s half ruined face. A woman raised one simple pistol in her hands. The black matted material tickled a memory. The vision faded. Abel stood before me. His eyes gleamed with silver fire.
“The trials are not yet over. Take my rib to the Lands of Cain. Open the doorway to Helios. Those marked with a green thorn can be brought forth from perdition.”
∞
I motioned to Taleer to watch the northern end of the courtyard.
My sister’s fresh emotional revelations swirled through my mind. Its not everyday one learns you will reset the Cycle of Creation in a fundamental way. We would not keep the Tears. As Demis we would be conduits for the new soul made for such a task. I didn’t want to throw more wrenches into the mix. It was odd having Silver Fox as a teacher and intermediary for the Oversoul. Problem was keeping the memory overflow to a limit she could handle across time and space. For those recalling our mystical adventures? I do apologize to future historians of the Sleeping in Starlight chronicles.
It was as much to protect us as our allies.
The renewed realms would have the best start we could give them. Even with the Ninth Circle clinging to the outskirts of the Soul Realm. I know the Oversoul has a plan beyond the collapse of this Multiverse. I dared not peer too far or closely. We had been transmuted to purify Black and White’s mantles as Thronebearers.
All I knew? Don’t bet against the Absolute Good of the Creator while Evil was about. That fateful moment my sister and I would encompass the same page was the day that Thoth, Hilary and Chronos would get shoved into a frying pan of Karma, Boots and Just Rewards! Abel rolled about within my mental landscape.
>>Truth comes in all shapes but three is especially keen.<<
I recited back the first words ever uttered by the Highest to me as a child.
>>First is the Void. The Breath of Man. Demi’s shall pave the way through Lands of Weave, Dream and Stone. My children shall inherit all three Planes. The Fourth shall bring upon the Wrath of the Ancients and cleanse the Final Abode.<<
The final Cycle. The one we had to get right.
∞
Meathook climbed to the highest outcropping. Two mangled stonework creatures loomed dark against the gloom of twilight. Cain had retreated deeper into the complex. Leaving the Artock hybrid to his own devices. How to play this angle? Abel was one of the Ancients of the First Cycle. His yellowed digits sizzled against the stone. He used the flooring to kick off high into the air. Black Scrawl speared him through the gut. His eyes widened. Terror clung to him like a second skin. Cain’s silky voice boomed, “You will lead them to the Cliffs of Helios.” Purple fire danced behind the First Murder’s visage. Meathook quailed then landed in a heap at the feet of the Death Thronebearer. In the form of a Tiger of all things. Two hands shot out and gripped him by the scruff.
“So nice of you to drop in.”
The demi. Wearing the coat of another. Made for one who walked between the veils.
Even now his feathers fell one by one. Into Cain’s realm!
He sprang backwards. His arms scrabbled against the hard stone. Pain irrupted in his chest as he tried to crawl away. His invisibility was broken. His eye stalks swiveled to the trio of enemies. The Dreamweaver had betrayed him. He had been faithful to a fault. Feeding the true ruler everything he knew about Unity, Abbadon, Chronos. All the intel. Every scrap. The Highest Blade of the Dream tugged at the beleaguered Artock.
You will serve me. Always.
Meathook wailed. He was never in the running. No consideration.
No requiem.
No soul.
∞
I watched as our final Nemisis converged within the twisted form of Meathook.
My sister and I were made to repair Black and White. Not as they were within Elysium. But as they needed to be. As co-guardians with the Twilight Thronebearer. Even now my feathers dropped from my back. All would be made ready for the Twin Rulers. Those that they guarded since the dawn of mortal kind. The best thing about all the hidden truths? Many could be listed as Twins for whatever reason needed.
It was how my sister and I were able to hide in plain sight for so long. Even as Meathook’s jigsaw maw opened to spat, “You will burn at the Cliffs of Helios!” I curled the White Scrawl around the twisted black thorns of it’s corrupted mirror. The Dreamweaver peered through those glimmering black orbs. I gave no indication I saw or heard him. “Cain offered you up as a sacrifice. Taleer, crack an opening for us.” My eyes shifted over to Abel. His face unperturbed by the vines encircling his wasted form.
He would also be renewed. Once his rib opened the way.
My sister and I would bring forth the deluge that none suspected.
Save the Oversoul and his son. I would be the Spear. Tearing into the hordes of demons. My sister would be the shield. Guarding her charges during the climb. Together we would bring about the new cycle. Evil would find itself constrained to the refuse of the old multiverse. Only the Ninth Circle would phase into our new reality. The mouse trap guarded by all those who walked in the light.
∞
I awoke on the cool tiles of the temple.
Abel’s rib pulsed against my silver chest plate. I glanced at Doc, “What kinda feedback?” Her green eyes clouded over as Lethe took over temporarily, “We must descend into the dark layer.”
Sul gripped her sidearm. Soul sigils flashed.
“Taleer! Let’s go!”
Lethe motioned to the three winged statue situated in the adjoining room.
I approached it. The eyes glowed bright blue, “Speak the words and enter!”
My brother linked to my mind. A brief touch that conveyed more than emotions.
“I pass through shadow and flesh. Travelers to a bygone age. Open the path to the lair of the First Deceiver. The Lament of Brothers.”
A cold wind carried us through the portal that coalesced at our feet. Dark eyes upon yellowed stalks peered up at us. Meathook mewled, “Filthy twins. Markav and Demi both!”
Spittle crossed my boot. My eyes burned as Dark Matter exploded outward. Searing into the Black Scrawl around us. No more Thronebearer wards. That had been given to the realms that would pass. According to Silver Fox. White could finally emerge as a proper caretaker. Even if I didn’t have all the pieces. I cracked my knuckles. I sucked in a breath. Ice particles formed.
It was good to be back into functional form.
Felt like ages since I could use my actual power set. Ice bisected the corrupted stone diving in from above. Their cries turned to guttural snarling as the cold shattered their outer shells. Shapes wiggled from the remains. Like slugs shifting against glass. Doc raised her arm cannon. A ray of golden heat left the closest wiggling mass swirling skyward as dust particles.
My fist connected with the flesh construct before me. In the form of a snake. That heat built up in my eyes again. I would miss my spear but it had never been made for me. One last sliver of light remained across my back. Half formed feathers still clung like morning dew.
I hoped our enemies would appreciate the gesture.
I barreled through the crimson wraiths that attempted to stop me from reaching Abel.
They recoiled as they met invincibility aura. Their fingers found no purchase.
It was good to be back. My body was my own again.
I yelled, “What’s up Ghosties?!”
Dexter slammed his fist into the vines holding Abel. Black Scrawl faded with each swing. I remarked brightly, “Hey batter batter!” Doc held back a groan. <<Would you not tempt fate with the elder horrors please?>>
High above green flashes filled the sky.
The portal to the Cliffs awaited us.
Issue 5: Here
Issue 7: Here
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