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31_days2010-09-28 07:13 pm
sazuki-reda.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2010-09-28 07:13 pm
[Sept 28] [Original] To Be Immortal
Title: To Be Immortal
Day/Theme: Sept 28 - "I'm the emperor of sorrows"
Series: Original
Character: Original
Rating: PG
~!~
To Be Immortal
~!~
“The only thing wrong with immorality is that it tends to go on forever.”
--Herb Caen
~!~
The world around him was small. Everything around him seemed so insignificant, so unimportant, that he walked through it as if nothing mattered.
A present that was always changing. A past so horrible it seemed worth forgetting. A future so uncertain it wasn’t worth fighting for.
Mountains trembled at his steps. Oceans quivered at his breath. Grass bowed as he flew by. Stars blinked on and off, wishing for attention but never being granted the glance upwards.
Angelic wings glided through the world as he flew. From the beginning of time, he could remember. Happiness. Joy. Sharing. Togetherness. Love.
All gone.
Corruption had been crafted. By one of his own.
The knowledge that it came from his homeland drove him into temporary insanity. His remaining brother and sister tried to calm him. His brother offered words and rituals of meditation. His sister suggested the peaceful sounds of nature. But nothing worked.
Eventually, they gave up, as did he. Corruption had claimed one of their one. Corruption had destroyed their peaceful lives, their meditation, their everyday rituals. Corruption had even reached across a world unexplored, a world blocked off.
The barrier he had set at time’s beginning wavered, shimmered, became weak. He did not realize it. He did not care.
As if he could escape the terrors of corruption, he flew…he spread his feathered wings and dove into the realm of mortals. He saw the horrible deeds. He saw what had happened. He saw…
Dragons, Elves, and deformed creations of both…
This and only this made him pause. And when he paused, the great wings fell, the feeling of omnipotence drifted away.
He fell. His true form melted as he became a falling star to those watching. Long before he hit the ground with a resounding crash, he had decided on a mortal body, and this body had passed out on the journey from the sky.
First Law of Avairean to the Guardians..."thou shalt not have direct contact with the mortal world below" - and in a fit of despair, he, the greatest of them all, the most loved son, had broken the trust of his father. Forever cursed to roam the world and watch it fall around him; he would never return to the Realm of the Gods; he would never be home.
~!~
Traidel Rurain lifted from the memory and faced the younger one standing before him. He put aside his own troubles, as he had so many times before, and frowned at the bearer of the Seeker. So much had happened to this boy. So much had been set on his shoulders. So much had been ruined.
Red eyes glared back at him, hands clenched around a sword once white and pure now twisted and stained with blood. White spikes of hair ruffled in the light breeze - the spikes a sign of Catrek blood, the white a sign of Elven royalty, a symbol of unity between the races, though none had cared to notice. Feet shifted forward and the boy growled, his voice grating, controlled by another - by the Corrupted One.
"You have fallen far, brother."
Traidel Rurain grimaced. So. Kelch had no power over the corrupted after all. Even the bearer of the Seeker - a conduit to Avairean's great source of power - had no control over a god.
With a sigh, a lilt in his angelic wings, he ignored the stares of the mortals as they watched beyond the invisible shield. A shield put in place by Kelch himself - the real Kelch, the one who had little control but still had the Elven ability in hand, even if it had been his last act in this godly standoff. "Shairokan," Traidel murmured, whispered into the rustling air between them. "No matter how far I have fallen, you will always be known as the corrupt one."
"Pity on my soul? Ha! Pity on your soul, Traidel. For you were once the greatest, your people above all, your perfection an example. And now look at you."
Closing his eyes, Traidel Rurain tried to force the memories away, tried to forget. He was always trying to forget.
Forget the times of the perfect harmony among his fellow Guardians, his brothers and sisters. The laughter and love they shared. The all-consuming mere touch of his father, of Avairean. The gift to be the Spirit of Avairean - the wings were but a shadow of that gift.
He wanted to forget the memories where he looked down upon his people living in peace, where he communed with the High Priest, where he answered prayers and guided his kind to perfect their Creation art.
Now things were different.
Gone were the days of perfection.
Everything was separated. Twins divided. A people corrupted, twisted into forms that only barely resembled their original design.
Everything had changed. And no matter how hard he worked to set things right, how hard he worked within the mortal world to lead this boy, this savior...it hadn't been enough. Kelch was as corrupted as his people. Shairokan was in control, in power, and even he wasn't the one truly in control.
There was simply no hope left.
Corruption would take every race, every person, every animal. Corruption would destroy. Corruption would twist and deform.
Soon, the world would look like the northern island - where his people had once stood, proud and glorious.
And the immortal ones would die, as Traidel had planned to do today. Better to die and enter a world of nothing than live forever with Corruption. Yes, better to let the angel fall.
But how did one kill an immortal? How did an immortal, a fallen angel, fallen god...how could he die? If he had but one worshipper, would he not still live on?
Would this never end?
Was this failure doomed to haunt him forever?
Day/Theme: Sept 28 - "I'm the emperor of sorrows"
Series: Original
Character: Original
Rating: PG
~!~
To Be Immortal
~!~
“The only thing wrong with immorality is that it tends to go on forever.”
--Herb Caen
~!~
The world around him was small. Everything around him seemed so insignificant, so unimportant, that he walked through it as if nothing mattered.
A present that was always changing. A past so horrible it seemed worth forgetting. A future so uncertain it wasn’t worth fighting for.
Mountains trembled at his steps. Oceans quivered at his breath. Grass bowed as he flew by. Stars blinked on and off, wishing for attention but never being granted the glance upwards.
Angelic wings glided through the world as he flew. From the beginning of time, he could remember. Happiness. Joy. Sharing. Togetherness. Love.
All gone.
Corruption had been crafted. By one of his own.
The knowledge that it came from his homeland drove him into temporary insanity. His remaining brother and sister tried to calm him. His brother offered words and rituals of meditation. His sister suggested the peaceful sounds of nature. But nothing worked.
Eventually, they gave up, as did he. Corruption had claimed one of their one. Corruption had destroyed their peaceful lives, their meditation, their everyday rituals. Corruption had even reached across a world unexplored, a world blocked off.
The barrier he had set at time’s beginning wavered, shimmered, became weak. He did not realize it. He did not care.
As if he could escape the terrors of corruption, he flew…he spread his feathered wings and dove into the realm of mortals. He saw the horrible deeds. He saw what had happened. He saw…
Dragons, Elves, and deformed creations of both…
This and only this made him pause. And when he paused, the great wings fell, the feeling of omnipotence drifted away.
He fell. His true form melted as he became a falling star to those watching. Long before he hit the ground with a resounding crash, he had decided on a mortal body, and this body had passed out on the journey from the sky.
First Law of Avairean to the Guardians..."thou shalt not have direct contact with the mortal world below" - and in a fit of despair, he, the greatest of them all, the most loved son, had broken the trust of his father. Forever cursed to roam the world and watch it fall around him; he would never return to the Realm of the Gods; he would never be home.
~!~
Traidel Rurain lifted from the memory and faced the younger one standing before him. He put aside his own troubles, as he had so many times before, and frowned at the bearer of the Seeker. So much had happened to this boy. So much had been set on his shoulders. So much had been ruined.
Red eyes glared back at him, hands clenched around a sword once white and pure now twisted and stained with blood. White spikes of hair ruffled in the light breeze - the spikes a sign of Catrek blood, the white a sign of Elven royalty, a symbol of unity between the races, though none had cared to notice. Feet shifted forward and the boy growled, his voice grating, controlled by another - by the Corrupted One.
"You have fallen far, brother."
Traidel Rurain grimaced. So. Kelch had no power over the corrupted after all. Even the bearer of the Seeker - a conduit to Avairean's great source of power - had no control over a god.
With a sigh, a lilt in his angelic wings, he ignored the stares of the mortals as they watched beyond the invisible shield. A shield put in place by Kelch himself - the real Kelch, the one who had little control but still had the Elven ability in hand, even if it had been his last act in this godly standoff. "Shairokan," Traidel murmured, whispered into the rustling air between them. "No matter how far I have fallen, you will always be known as the corrupt one."
"Pity on my soul? Ha! Pity on your soul, Traidel. For you were once the greatest, your people above all, your perfection an example. And now look at you."
Closing his eyes, Traidel Rurain tried to force the memories away, tried to forget. He was always trying to forget.
Forget the times of the perfect harmony among his fellow Guardians, his brothers and sisters. The laughter and love they shared. The all-consuming mere touch of his father, of Avairean. The gift to be the Spirit of Avairean - the wings were but a shadow of that gift.
He wanted to forget the memories where he looked down upon his people living in peace, where he communed with the High Priest, where he answered prayers and guided his kind to perfect their Creation art.
Now things were different.
Gone were the days of perfection.
Everything was separated. Twins divided. A people corrupted, twisted into forms that only barely resembled their original design.
Everything had changed. And no matter how hard he worked to set things right, how hard he worked within the mortal world to lead this boy, this savior...it hadn't been enough. Kelch was as corrupted as his people. Shairokan was in control, in power, and even he wasn't the one truly in control.
There was simply no hope left.
Corruption would take every race, every person, every animal. Corruption would destroy. Corruption would twist and deform.
Soon, the world would look like the northern island - where his people had once stood, proud and glorious.
And the immortal ones would die, as Traidel had planned to do today. Better to die and enter a world of nothing than live forever with Corruption. Yes, better to let the angel fall.
But how did one kill an immortal? How did an immortal, a fallen angel, fallen god...how could he die? If he had but one worshipper, would he not still live on?
Would this never end?
Was this failure doomed to haunt him forever?