Dreamscapes of the Aspect Lied II

“I have already perceived my own death,” the aspect voiced to the vacant landscape, “and it is neither this hour nor this place” his voice barely above a whisper yet carrying far into the wastes with an authority all its own, an authority born from the deepest recesses of primordial wellspring. ”

If I am truly to die, let it be in the lands of my own creation, let it be among all I have breathed life into so I may at least witness that which may surpass me”. the stirring and snapping of discarded dead-fall and brittle sage ceased, his echo seemed to distort and reverberate in a hollow discord, distorting further with each repetition of his command. He did not know whether or not he expected a response, in truth he did not know what to expect in these unfamiliar lands, but the sudden stillness about him served as an answer all it’s own yet did nothing to either identify itself or grant clarity to his predicament.  “Had I only granted tongues to stone and language to dirt” he mused to himself. “Maybe then I would be provided some sort of guidance, then again I do not think I would find much help in these parts. Whoever is responsible for this defilement is no kin of mine.”

He stood there for a while, waiting for whatever creatures to reveal themselves, running his hand through his dust strewn hair as he gazed into the horizon. The uneasiness of this place began to take a toll on him, it seemed to get worse the more he progressed. The  discomfort had began as a slight pulling in his heart and a thickness in his throat, like there was a serpent coiled around his throat that prevented him from swallowing. powerful as he may be the dread of the unknown bares down on all who draw breath God(s) he may be but still susceptible to such mortal fears.  The serpent’s breath bore a chill in his stomach and a ragged hole in his chest, widening the more he acknowledged it until it seemed as an abyss that eclipsed his body, forming a gravitational pull that sucked his thoughts and lifeforce into an endless vacuum that threatened to devour him and spew him forth into a starless void where his principality and prominence would be irrelevant and powerless.

Unable to bear the serpent’s coil any longer he again set his jaw and addressed his vacant surroundings,. futility was a feeling  with which he was all but unacquainted with, he did not like this creature or this place that refused to heed his call. aware that he would most likely receive no response to his command he nevertheless rose his voice to a fever pitch, eyes flashing like firmament’s flames adorning celestial bodies unknown to man.
   “I have withstood the long, slow defilement of all I have loved by its own hand.” The Aspect proclaimed with a voice terrible to behold, “I have perceived the slaughter of infants and rape of whole generations. I have bore witness to every anguish and every spilling of blood that flooded the earth in crimson river’s calling out my name, all finding origin and genesis from these veins! Every skull split atwain, every entrance and exit of the human body raped and mangled beyond recognition, the beating heart who’s steady march is cut short by the malice and blade of man. All created and brought into being in my own image. After every holocaust, after every long, sleepless night where it seemed the earth would consume itself, still I witnessed the sun rise in the morning just as I ordained it to be many aeons ago.

As his voice finally faded the despair had changed to a mounting jealousy. Who had created this place without his knowledge, was there another God(s) birthed in preparation for his coming demise? One that would cast such profanity in response to what he had created and tended to all these aeons? He wished to seek him out and slaughter him, rend his flesh from his bones and devour his very soul to sustain his own and maybe grant himself another thousand years or so of omnipotent rule.

“My creation and I have withstood all we have brought upon ourselves, I will withstand this place and after, banish it to the void between dimensions.” His voice raised higher to an invocation that seemed to split the sky in two and call the sun down from his throne within the clouds. I will rip these lands from existence and sweep all trace of its filth into oblivion, this I vow to you. This time the land seemed to receive his message. The heaviness subsided and somehow, all about seemed to abate, retreat within itself.

Reassured by these stirrings the Aspect opened his left hand and gazed at the glyph carved upon it. He clenched it tightly before setting down on one knee, seeking a flat piece of earth. He drew his sword and slit his right hand with its blade, muttering spells and stanzas unknown to man as the blood flowed down the rivet carved in the center of the blade. With utmost reverence he rose up and began to draw a circle upon the dying land. The blood so hot it scorched the earth, causing tendrils of smoke to spiral up to the sky. When the circle was complete he began to carve marks and runes of various origins unto the earth, invoking the spirits of the earth to hearken to him and submit to his iron will. His sapphire eyes glazed to a translucent ivory as he completed the spell and set his left hand firmly upon the earth. He wove the inherited wisdom’s and antiquated ephemeral crafts passed down throughout the generations, as powerful as they were ancient. He gazed through the rift and opened his mind to that which lay within, feeling the world within with the familiarity an infant holds with his mothers breast.

The circle seemed to vibrate beneath him, a warmth flowed forth and brought vitality to the little patch of land he knelt upon. eyes closed in reverence his mind perceived the various spirits he commanded to rush forth and join him. Lidless eyes of various indescribable creatures seemed to appear about him and flitted here and there. from the distance the clomping of hooves could be heard, stomping and gnashing at the earth,  snarls and bellows of some inhuman entity voiced it’s disdain and defiance to his inescapable will. Primordial cries and throaty, guttural moans punctuated by the snapping of jaws resounded forth, filled the silent air with a terrible tumultuous clamor .

He could catch glimpse creatures of horn and fur flitting in and out of the tear between dimensions he had created. Sulfur and burnt flesh filled his nostrils along with the scent of pine needles and morning frost. Spirits of the forest were the best when unsure of where to go, the way-lines and paths of the earth formed the architecture of their being. However they were often the most feral and temperamental. The beings he summoned were often ambiguous in nature and sometimes resented his authority over them, they would do his bidding as they were bound to do, but not gladly and often voiced their wishes to cast off the ancient yolk he had set upon them with a thousand snapping, rending teeth. But It was because of this hatred for his authority that he loved and respected them the most. For how different was he from the likes of them? Being bereft of any bindings or master it was the creatures resentfully spilling forth, braying their desire to devour his flesh that he related with more than any other, a strange kin to love from a far.

they continues their reluctant spial dance, drawing forth the esoteric wellness of  the earth to flow into the designated place he had carved upon the wastes. As he his palm rested upon the earth life seemed to flow towards him and into his body. It began as a warmth and soon little sprouts of grass formed underneath him, ferns unfurled towards him and bluebells sprouted with unnatural speed. The beings about him ceased their defiance and scorn and began to gaze at him in trepidation, they grew in clarity and for brief  secodns he could see these manifestations of his creation. With skins of oak and eyes of glowing emerald they looked at him with abject reverence. As the vegetation grew more and more vibrant they raised horned skulls to the sky and cried forth exaltation in a terrible sound that was both a wolf’s howl and the mournful bray of an oxe. They ceased there clamour and stood in respectful silence, acknowledging his dominion over them once again. He smiled and dismissed them, glancing down at the patch of life he had set up in contrast to the death and despair all about, a God(s) simple solace in the shadow of Death’s hand.

“I will leave this here, he muttered to himself, as a testament to my divine power and will, whoever is master of these lands is no god of mine and will soon bow to my countenance.” His smile abated as he began to feel something, a pulse lay beneath the earth, a sort of churning like waters flowing, a stream of sorts. A pulsing, resounding beat reverberated beneath his palm. He got down and placed his ear to the earth. He could hear it, a heartbeat and some sort of stream flowing beneath him, it seemed to beckon him, draw him forward and into the horizon. He stood up and gazed once more at the land before him, the creatures stalking him now a distant memory, a mistake that would reveal itself soon in the journey to come but for now? The Aspect had found his way





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