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Elhyrissian Chronicles
Epilogue: ...Dreams in their Empty House

Epilogue: ...Dreams in their Empty House

The sea stretched out far into the seemingly endless expanse, a desolate expanse of blackness and somber, calm yet pristine waves. Even as the murky protoplasmic waters seemed to move, strange pebbles stirred the pristine surface, it remained devoid of even the faintest of whispers. There was no breath of life, no gust of wind, only a cold stillness that pervaded every inch of this desolate existence on which the dark traveler stood unmoving in his shapeless dark robes and dim red stola.

Above him the empty sky imitated the utter desolation where infinite possibilities reformulated themselves shone down its black light as the strange stars arose over the horizon. Before him, gargantuan edifices arose keeping the queer peace of the waters and the air; no drops cascading on its spires twisting into themselves, leaning east and west, burrowing south and north in maddening courses.

Some rose beyond the threshold of the primordial ocean bereft of life, thriving with an existence shimmering darkly and unseen. And some of these edifices continued their ascent before his strange slit eyes until they reached the gloomy heavens. When they all stopped in their formations, he at last moved on the path formed from translucent stone and opaque slime of the eldest kind, leading him further towards the flock of the spires. At the flock’s epicenter he once more stopped, in square filled with trees bearing crystalline foliage of the same strange, indescribable shade like his eyes hidden under his hood.

As he walked on the serene abyssal waters where unseen, shapeless things lurked mimicking the habitual creatures living beyond the black wall risen beyond the quaint town in the voidness. A wall, a breathing bosom which flattened and sloped; murmured, fluttered in a warped tongue since before time began its unwinding, flow within the boundaries of Elhyrissian, The Elden Planes and the Aether Between connecting all planes, mundane and divine, when the first serpent awoken by visceral decree of The Almodo.

When The Nameless One stepped beyond the ever-shifting boundary of the town, etheric trees manifested from the emptiness barks smooth and fluid yet sturdier than the soft waters beneath where their roots stretched. From their branches crystalline leaves blossomed and danced to the music of possibilities and will predating the antiquities of all existences. No wind blew, but they rustled and pointed towards the path he desired himself, for which he wished for. The roots beneath twisted and turned, slithered like serpents and tendrils following as he walked in the ivory shadows of the imitated structures following the geometrical contours of feeble arkhaine circles, their forms ushering a semblance of order within the acreage of chaos.

At the end of his journey, an egg of absolute brilliance awaited, embraced by the tendrils and roots growing across its everchanging surface. They moved and danced, sung songs of distant, soothing melodies whilst their protoplasmic ichor seeped into the egg, shaping the creature dreaming within. When he faltered before the etheric egg, it throbbed at his hollow touch and at once a great wall, a mural arose forth the emptiness – a mural half finished.

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The Nameless One slowly approached the mural and his hood slinked back as the yawning blackness and the two slits of eyes gazed at the center piece where the protoplasmic ink bleeding from the stone formed a maelstrom of the myriad paths through which they shall have to walk until the new dawn arises over the vast continents and oceans of Elhyrissian. The dark aether which constructed his delicate, slender form stirred as if excited, as if anxious knowing well victory was yet to be certain as he fingers connected to the shifting ink.

Though beneath and above the centerpiece, murals carven by erudite, primordial hands depicted the fates of the lost. Those who calmed the dim aether as their threads have been severed, their seed had been returned and their souls returned into the cycle as promised.

First he gazed upon the top segment where the southern boy with a striking hair of silver who dreamt to walk in the footsteps of his father, and would have reached beyond amongst his true kindred, leading the legions into the final fray to stand upon the peak of death where the first serpent would have laid slain. Now a forest stretched across the many shaded dunes of the far-south, creeping towards and devouring whilst planting the seeds of vicious lives.

Before his gazed moved downwards, The Nameless turned at the raucous throbbing permeating the small square. With a singular, hollow touch of his he calmed the dweller returned before the mural.

Below, near the bottom in a hoary frame The Sorceress of Winter stood once with arms stretched, her white veil softening the rays of Dawn from the shunned folk of Twilight whilst the former slavers held riches and scales before them. Further the first serpent’s cadaver stretched across the dreadful peaks, his blood formed a lake of all swallowing darkness whilst the Golden Child hovered in his promised brilliance, battling the inky blackness lengthening across the carven vistas and devouring like a ravenous, mindless beasts all fell into its grasp.

Now her form fair as snow cascaded across the throat of death and laid serene into bowels of twilight where the children and the shunned kin of Dusk danced merrily and morosely around her cavernous grave whilst the top frames of her piece fissured. In the slithering cavities the protoplasmic ink flown upwards, forming the maelstrom of the three that still remains with their murky tasks multiplying as the second pass beyond the murmuring and throbbing black wall.

Before he could begin rearranging the myriad threads congregating into a chaotic mess, his attention was torn away by the second throbbing echoing throughout the endless void. Once more he touched the etheric surface of brilliance, stirring from the agonies of the ichor seeping into its magnificent form tearing and discarding; formulating and fitting in the right pieces.

With the dweller soothed, the egg no longer throbbing from fear The Nameless One vanished and with him the town was swallowed by the stirred emptiness. Its hidden appendages crawling further beyond the boundary, seeds traversing undisturbed and unnoticed the carven spaces planting themselves into sphere at the epicenter of His subliminal design…