THE ORCHARD OF GOD

“THE WORLD IS INHERENTLY CRUEL. NO MATTER, WHAT THE MAN BIDS YOU BELIEVE; THERE ARE NO ENDINGS, WHICH RESULT IN PEACE, IN HAPPINESS, OR IN CERTAINTY OF SERENITY.

FROM THE FORGOTTEN BEGINNINGS, FROM THE ASHES OF AVALON, FROM THE LONG ABANDONED FEDERATION, FROM THE DEEPLY BURIED LILAC VON CELESTE– AROSE THIS, QUAINT LITTLE, TALE; IT DOES, BRING GREAT PRIDE TO THE TAINTED HUBRIS OF THE MAN.

HOWEVER, IN HIS ATTEMPTS AT PLAYING GOD– HE HAD, FORGOTTEN SOMETHING. SOMETHING CRUCIAL.

ALL ROADS, NO MATTER WHETHER THEY BE CARVED THROUGH ASHES OR GORE OF FORGOTTEN TALES, DOTH DO LEAD TO MINE OWN TALE.

THERE IS NO ENDING, WHERE I DO NOT EXIST; WHERE THE TAINTED SOULS OF MAN, ARE NOT JUDGED BY MINE HAND. THERE IS NO REALITY, NOT EVEN WHERE HE HIDES, THAT I DO NOT EXIST.

HE THINKS OF HIMSELF AS THE SPIDER, SPINNING AWE INSPIRING TALES OF WORLDS BEYOND WORLDS, OF REALITIES UNTHINKABLE AND INCOMPREHENSIBLE. YET, EVEN WITH SUCH WILD IMAGINATION, HE IS BLIND. LAUGHABLY SO.

HE MAY WRITE, YES, BUT TIS I THAT HAVE SPUN THE TALE. AND WILL DO SO, TILL THE END OF TIME.”

-WITH MUCH LOVE, VIKTORIA VON CELESTE.

The sand flowed through her hand, sailing across the planet in an endless pilgrimage. Their rest? Unthinkable. Their destination? Unimaginable.

They were like humanity, in this sense. Lost and aimlessly wandering across the sands of time. Pleading helplessly to be guided, to be shown a glorious path. Yet, like the accursed sand, they shall never have rest nor, shall they ever have a certainty of destiny.

God did not make humanity, for them to be creatures with certainty of life. God created mankind for entertainment. Afterall, what is a magnificent being to do? Watch over an empty plain of existence, called the universe.

Fuck no.

That is, simply, time wasted. God is not unproductive. Or, well, she can be, yes. She was, at times, slothful. A sin. But, oh how, the mind had fallen to it.

It was exceedingly curious; now, and only now, did she understand the curious nature of the graceful felines– their natural keenness for unearthing mysteries that do trouble their questioning minds. Even if, such curiosity does lead to doom. Much, like the inquisitorial hubris of the graceful beings, she too was plagued by, unending, curiosity that heralded, one too many, sleepless nights.

Sin was humanity's icon. Not her's. Incomprehensible, that one such as her should fall prey to its lust. But perhaps, tis was perfectly understandable.

She could not remember her creation, afterall. Perhaps, there was an entity above her. And, mind you, she is not mentioning the man-who-writes. He is no, superior being; at max, he's a low level goon from a defunct video game.

The man believes in an entity, all powerful, but he does not know of its existence. And, well, neither does she.

Conjecture, and at length, understanding was vain; thus, she doth did abandon thoughts of Gods beyond Gods and eldritch entities beyond understanding– preferring, instead, to refurbish her cognitive understanding of the vast world that rested besides her being.

The ground rumbled beneath her feet, restlessly, as if the very planet had been awoken from a dream of great peace, and now wished to shower wrath upon the uncouth fool that had broke its slumber. A touch of her hand, running soothingly over the tensing dunes, and the planet calmned– accepting its mother's comfort.

With foreknowledge, the eyes were drawn to the sky, being greeted by a most beautiful sight. Sailing through the atmosphere, far above her yet so strikingly visible to her, were humongous warships; made from steel and innumerably unexplainable materials, allowing them to withstand even the blows of a ravenous Black Hole.

They doth soared the sky, with a certain royal stride.

She chuckled at the pun.

Even the roars of the engines of these great behemoths of technology, could seldom hope to puncture the keen hearing of her ears. She, who could, gaze into the stars and see life on planets, beyond galaxies, as clearly as she could see the land in front of her– could never be blindsided.

For, all these humane tendencies that doth taint her divine outlook, ignorance and blindness had never wormed their way into her fragile heart. It remained ever pure, of such inglorious influences.

She had, admittedly, played with the fact of introducing such an aspect to her being. But, the flaws of such a.. defect, were deemed too vast; especially, for someone such as her. God, could seldom indulge in pointless tomfoolery that would, undoubtedly and inevitably, cause irreparable harm to the vast universe.

Not to mention, she had the man-who-writes as a nuisance enough; and thank you, but, her hands were already full with one.

Besides, ignorance had cost her. She had been fooled once, but no longer. Although, the act of removing this Goddess of War, would be as simple as the snap of a finger, it would endanger the delicate balance of reality.

Without war, afterall, life cannot exist. Well, that was an overstatement, but, her point stands for humanity. War is, for her sake, a focal pillar of humanity. And, shamefully so, the source of much enjoyment. I would, prefer if the writer, could kindly exempt these thoughts. But.. but, he's an asshole and thus, dear reader, I am certain that thou shalt see me as a vile tyrant. No matter, I seldom care.

Mental ramblings aside, Dr Bosch made his merry little way up to her- as audacious, as ever. Others, would take care in how they spoke, in how they approached, or, in how they greeted and groveled; but, Bosch was anything but a normal man. In truth, that is why she preferred his company to the many other's, she could partake in.

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The man was of a darker complexion with rapidly graying hair. His face was unshaven, yet properly and hygienically maintained. The man's eyes were most curious though, blessed by her most finest creations– a set of the most brightest silver eyes.

It reminded her of the huntress… What was, she called? Hmmm… oh yes! Estelle! A most curious critter, and in the right situations, a chatterbox.

Bosch, as always, stood unalarmed and unbothered at having been noticed from a mile away. The man was clever, he likely adapted to her, greater than life, powers.

Curiously though, he carried in his hand a dark wooden box. She couldn't see into it, the powers still being awkwardly blocked to this mortal body. No matter, that shall be fixed soon.

“A gift for you, Your Majesty,” Bosch spoke, speech coloured in the rough accent of his people and his own voice akin to leather.

Viktoria raised a brow, “A gift?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, a gift. One, befitting your magnificent stature and your divine being-”

“Spare me, the flattery, Doctor. Speak now, I am, currently, in a pleasant mood. Ask away, and I shall give,”

Bosch bowed, deeply– his forehead touching the ground. A flutter of warmth passed through her, the action inciting an awkward emotion within her mortal confines. Curious. Is this arousal? Unlikely. Then, what is it? A subject to ponder, surely.

With his being, still bowed, his nervous hands extended the box, shakily, towards her. Taking the box, she ran her curious hands over it, admiring the fine woodwork on the container. And, surprisingly, it was heavy and it stank. A foul miasma of cruel death, hung over the box like a scythe, lying in wait to strike.

Lesser beings, would have been quaking in their boots and, likely, excreting in their pants. But, she was different– afterall, the stench was all too familiar to her. Her foulest creation, being gifted to her. What a lame joke!

Sure enough, as the box unlatched, laid down in eternal slumber was the sword. Or rather, a katana. Taking it into her hands, with care, she unsheathed it; revealing a most malignant blade.

“Akuma,” She whispered, in disgust yet in pride. Disgust, of what her greatest creations could commit in their insatiable lust for power. Pride, because the blade was ingenious– made from her very essence. In her hands, tis was like a lost part of hers, finally reunited. It felt right to hold this; and, somewhere, deep within her consciousness, Viktoria– the one before this arrangement came to be, rejoiced with great cheers and hooting.

Afterall, in her hands was Akuma. The very blade of House Celeste, made with sinister intentions, forged in hellfire, borne from the blood of a million souls. A bloodborne weapon of mankind's worst hours. Yet, to House Celeste, tis was but a small price. For, verily, such sacrifice brought into their hands, the greatest weapon of all. A Godslayer.

Bosch, chose this moment, to lift his head, ever so slightly. With reverence, he spoke, “You.. recognise it, My Empress?”

Viktoria laughed, “Hahaha, oh.. ohhh, why yes, I do.. I recognise this blade, as clearly I'd recognise mine own face,” She took a pause, running her fingers on the malevolent blade, “You have, my gratitude, Dr Bosch. Ask whatever, and you shall have it,”

Bosch answered, in a whisper too light. She heard it, yes, but she wanted him to admit the inane greed of man's twisted hubris, out loud.

“Can.. can you repeat it, Bosch. I am afraid, but I couldn't quite, catch that,” She requested, face painted in a false veneer of embarrassment.

Bosch nodded, and with great struggle, spoke loudly, “I.. I- I want, a barony, my- Your Majesty!”

“Oh? A barony, you say? And.. pray tell, what planet, do you fancy?”

Bosch cleared his throat, looking highly uncomfortable, as if the very task of requesting and pleading was unknown to the man. “I. I humbly request, for Calypso, My Empress,”

Truthfully, that did give her genuine surprise. Even though her prescientness had alerted her, quite a while ago, regarding the nature of the request. But, to hear it being admitted, was still quite shocking.

Contrarily, she had wholeheartedly expected, Concordia to be his request; what, with the entire breakthroughs in the Cardinal program, Concordia would have been simply perfect.

But, admittedly, that had been an oversight on her part. Concordia was a living world; Not a dead one. And, what Bosch did lust after, were the rotting remains of a dead world.

Nevertheless, Calypso, he would get. Had he asked for Concordia, he would have had it, as well. But, in her hearts of hearts, she could admit that him taking Calypso was a boon. To see.. her majestic creations lay dead, brought great pain to the heart, thus, by him taking Calypso, she would never have to pay a grieving visit to the world.

Great Calypso would rest eternally now, its remains powering the last of the Imperium fleets; soon, even they would cease to exist. A pity. But, tis how the universe works– with great harshness and inconsideration.

Sometimes, treacherous thoughts did complain of the unneeded harshness of reality. At times, these thoughts, doth did sway her and in those times, results were catastrophic. After the last.. experiment, the consensus within her, had been to let the universe be a sadistic master.

For, verily, a sadistic master was better than a… malicious master.

And, that was without giving an honorable mention to the man-who-writes, he certainly did a wonderful job at plucking any merciful boons of the universe away and discarding them. Unsurprisingly, he did resist her changes. Understandable, but highly irritating.

“Very well.. my most, humble servant. Thou shalt want for nothing, Calypso is yours to keep, and in turn, your family's,”

“Thank you! Thank you, deeply and eternally, Your Majesty! Thank you!” Bosch groveled, his hands running against her boots, peppering them with chaste kisses of servitude and, unending, submission.

It was, a sight of pure devotion, that Malice stumbled upon. The uptight, Bosch groveling within his Empress’s feet, laying onto them kisses of such love and affection, that one might suggest a possibility of blooming love.

“Ah! Malice!” The Empress greeted loudly, Bosch froze with indignation, and with as much grace as possible, made his way off the ground. If he looked like a rabid dog scurrying away, neither of the two immortals bothered to mention it. For that, he was evermore grateful.

“My Empress,” Malice replied with a bow. The Empress made to speak, but the Cardinal was swifter, “The legions have made, headway in the Imperium Capital System, My Empress,”

Viktoria froze, with measured words, disallowing her excitement from being outrightly visible, she questioned, “And, what does that entail?”

“Lilith, My Empress. Its Navy and the, admittedly, large garrison on the planet's surface.. will, soon, crumble,” At the rise of Viktoria's brow, imploring him– The Cardinal expanded, “Lilith will fall. By midnight, in Galactic Standard Time, all throughout Lilith will soar your standards, your banners, your heraldry.”

Those words, were like music. Sending shivers of untold pleasure down her spine. No sooner had the words been uttered, that her eyes of divine origin, turned towards her… other guest.

“It is time, for you to bid us adieu, dear Charles,” With a wink of her eye, the man returned from whence he came…