Afterwards

Updates at least once a week
He
The sun rises across a fell horizon, illuminating seemingly unending wastes.
He is young, but important all the same, although he does not know it. Unten is what they call him then. It will not stick.
The wilds are not forgiving to one so small, and they dictate that he remain within safety.
He does not listen, and receives penance.
It is six days that he wanders for, and six nights.
The heat is unbearable.
It’s absence is even more so.
He stumbles upon a sanctuary, sheltered from the hatred incarnate around him.
It is rife with truth, and he consumes it as such.
There he spends his early days. He is important still.
He does not leave for twelve hundred days, and twelve hundred nights.
When he emerges, he has chosen his name.
He is Helian, and he comes with the sun
And he is important. Do not forget his name.
Afterwards
At the end of time, there lies oblivion.
We accelerate constantly toward it. Never ceasing. Never slowing.
An unending journey toward sweet nothingness.
The world keeps revolving, even with the burden of this end.
But even in sweet nothing there is life.
And that is where our story begins.
At the end.
A blank plane stretches into infinity.
But yet still, life must flourish.
A monolith stands tall in the center of all things.
From it’s mind, all comes forth.
And from the monolith, life spreads like wildfire.
This is where we find ourself, and this is where he is born.
In the Afterwards.
BIRTHPLACE
I was born in the mind of the monolith.
Devised by its infinite wisdom, a product of what spills forth from the end of time.
I have seen this universe. I have seen many like it.
But no facet of these infinite realities sticks out to me as much as the monolith at the end of time.
Perhaps it is nostalgia.
Perhaps it is the nature of the mind.
Not the human mind.
I do not know if I can call myself human anymore.
I was not in the end when he was brought into existence. It was before I returned, before I learnt of him, and before I learnt of you.
However, time is not linear.
Not at its end.
In a way, I was there. In a way, so were we all.
I am a facet of the monolith.
Carved from its stone, borne from its wisdom.
He is more. He is important, even when he is naught but a child.
There is no escape from the end. That is how it is meant to be.
But he was born to break.
I do not know how I escaped, but I am sure I must thank him.
Sweet nothing like honey like flytrap.
It is where we are all born, and where we will all die.
I am at peace with oblivion.
Are you, my friend?
Are you?
DO YOU BELIEVE
DO YOU BELIEVE
A fork in the road.
I apologise for the brief interruption.
From here, our story takes a turn.
Two paths lie ahead, one caked in blood, one born in fire.
All roads lead to Rome, and all roads lead to him.
But you, my dear, must make your choice.
Make your choice wisely, for there will be no going back.
Category:Stories
Category:Piper