From Centuries Past
“Are you sure they’ll work?” asked Daedalus, test-flapping his newly grown wings – long white feathers adorning the appendages that now sprouted magnificently from his shoulder blades.
“Of course,” soothed the dark entity towering over him, its black robes masking any discernible features. “They must work for you to accomplish your task for me.”
Daedalus nodded, admiring his wings. He was a craftsman of unparalleled skill and had even crafted a labyrinth for an ungrateful king. Yet, his skills were far too inferior to create something so extraordinary. The wings were a true marvel. He caressed a prominent feather and felt both softness and strength in it.
His joy was fleeting, the task at hand returning to his thoughts. He examined the black-robed entity, trying to glimpse something of what was peering back at him from beneath its shadowy cowl. His efforts yielded nothing but disappointment.
Again, he questioned the bargain with the being cloaked in long-flowing black robes. Perhaps it was some trickster god from any of a hundred pantheons. Clearing his mind, Daedalus looked over at the others. The newly augmented humans were each admiring their new and glorious feathered wings.
For an instant, he glanced down into the shallow ravine behind him. Within lay the dead bodies of the men and women who had previously worn the feathered gifts. Their wings had been torn out in vengeance and punishment, leaving deep and ghastly wounds where they had once been connected. The bloody sight caused him to vomit in his mouth, but he quickly swallowed it back down. Daedalus had no desire to share their fate. The dead bodies were once lesser wind deities, the Anemoi. They’d turned down the dark entity’s deal and had suffered and died for their decision.
Daedalus wasn’t about to make their mistake. The wings that had just sprung from his back had once belonged to one of the dead. In exchange, he had bound himself in service to the dark entity in a mighty plot to cast down all of the world’s influential gods.
When he peered back at the hooded figure, it held something towards him in its outstretched black spindly fingers. The object wasn’t large or particularly imposing. It was dark, the color of soot… round, like a sphere. It also wasn’t solid. Numerous deep holes penetrated its exterior, meeting in the middle and creating a partial hollow within.
It also appeared damaged. A quarter of it was missing, perhaps melted away by intense heat. Daedalus took the orb in his hands. It was smooth and cold to the touch, having the heft of a rock. He could feel it subtly vibrating, a low hum reaching his ears. The sensations hinted at a power hidden within the strange black object.
“You know what you need to do,” whispered the dark entity in Daedalus’s mind.
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He nodded to the black-robed figure and motioned for one of the other Anemoi to accompany him. He’d bury the object on the dark side of the moon. His companion, Ikarus, was there to guard his journey. There were a great many others who wouldn’t look kindly at what he was about to do. Ikarus stepped up to him and nodded. Then both newly born Anemoi used their gifted wings to lift themselves skyward. The other reborn Anemoi had been given separate tasks to which Daedalus wasn’t privy. It didn’t matter. They had only to mind their own.
They flew for hours. The pale white moon hanging low in the sky slowly grew closer. Then, ever-so-slowly, the blue was replaced by black, the air cooling with every flap of their mighty wings. The moon slowly edged out the darkness of the night sky. Their destination, the great moon, now floated just before them.
Daedalus knew the moon was ruled by the twin goddesses Selene and Artemis. Selene held sway over the light side, and Artemis controlled the dark. Secretly, Artemis had also become a thrall of the mysterious dark entity, and the orb would rest in her domain for eternity. Avoiding the gaze of the ever-watchful Selene, they carried on.
They soon reached the moon’s dark side. The two of them swooped into the bottom of one of the craters. The rest was a simple matter. They dug a deep hole and buried the black sphere under the ash-colored ground. Artemis was nowhere to be found, but it mattered not. With their task completed, Daedalus nodded to Ikarus and prepared to head back to their home.
“Wait,” called out Ikarus. “We shouldn’t waste this opportunity. I’ll explore the vastness and openness of this night sky we’ve flown through.”
“As would I,” replied Daedalus, “but it’s far too dangerous. Many gods reside here. An encounter with any one of them would most likely end badly.”
“You worry too much,” laughed Ikarus. “There are far too few of them to patrol this immense domain. We’ll be fine.”
“Go if you wish,” answered Daedalus, “but I will return to Earth presently.”
“Fine,” shrugged Ikarus. “If I come across a flight of sky-nymphs, maybe I’ll bring one for you to keep for yourself.”
The two said their goodbyes. Ikarus flew off to explore while Daedalus headed back toward Earth. When he arrived back at the bloody ravine, the dark entity was waiting.
“The rock has been delivered,” reported Daedalus. “Ikarus decided to explore a bit before returning, but he should be back soon.”
“No, he will not,” cut in the dark figure, its black robes billowing about it angrily, seemingly alive. “He was foolish and ran afoul of Helios, the sun god who smote him with his fire and let him fall to the seas. Ikarus is dead. His wings must be bestowed upon another. Now, come. There is still much to be done.”
While not surprising, the dark entity’s callousness over Ikarus’s demise fell heavily on Daedalus. He now knew his life was, at best, meaningless. At worst, he shuddered to think about it. Falling in behind the robed figure as it floated away, the realization that he had chosen the wrong side began to seep into his very being, and he wept.
The Divine never stood a chance with the mysterious orb hidden far from Earth. Thus, the great purge began. Many gods and goddesses were destroyed. The dark and enigmatic entity had started it all and saw the fall of every divine being that held any sway over the Earth’s populace.
After centuries of enjoying ultimate power and slowly being corrupted by it, the unending sameness began to weigh heavily on the being known only by Daedalus as the dark entity. It had won and could only bask in the victory for so long. Eventually, boredom and monotony closed in. It wasn’t long before the mysterious being turned its back on its followers and left for new worlds to conquer. That act of abandonment opened a door. It was just a crack but started the path to a renaissance.