CDWillson

United States

pretty much 19, so imma be slapped off this site soon and i don't have access to my old email so i won't even know when it'll happen !!!

he/him but sometimes he/they

something written is not always something believed.

Message to Readers

no we are not going to talk about my pfp change or my pronoun changes.

the mantle of authority [fiction, work in progress]

January 2, 2021

FREE WRITING

6
Morgaelis Red, leader of the orden city of Obsilheim, filed down her silver fingernails with a rod of black iron. Her quartz skin reflected the light of the white sky as she looked at the black sun.
Preservation lingered not far away, the seven calls of their kind rotating above his head like a crown. It was still a strange feeling to know that her god was a mostly human man. She always imagined him as some fabled dragon of legend, much like the other gods. But recent events had proven that what her kind knew to be true was just falsified faith. At least, that’s what she chose to believe now.
Others, like the warrior Hadarin, had kept their faith in Preservation despite seeing his weak flesh and inferior mind. He had created the ordens, but to Morgaelis, that meant nothing. Family meant nothing to her, as she never had a mother like most others.
“I wanted to tell you,” Preservation said quietly. “But revealing your true nature has proven to have shaken your people, and they will not last if they do not unite.”
“You kept our entire lives secret from us,” Morgaelis said without looking away from the sun. “Kept us on this forsaken world for trillions of cycles, only for your plan to fall apart at the last second.”
“You were the only suitable candidates,” Preservation said. “Your old bodies had the strength to survive the transformation, and y--”
“My people are not skitterers!” Morgaelis shouted, throwing the iron bar away and stepping towards the god. “We are not some lesson to be taught to the rest of the dreamscape. I don’t even care about who I was before,” Her red eyes burned as her call tried to calm her. “But what you have done to us since our creation has been vile and cruel.”
Preservation looked away, dejected. He wouldn’t attack her-- it was against the will of his mantle. Instead, he simply slumped down in a nearby chair and stared at the stone floor.
“We will not follow you anymore.” Morgaelis said with tension still in her voice. “We will be free.”
“You say that,” Preservation said, eyes distant. “But there are those who will choose differently. Now that my bindings are loosed, your people can choose to follow you or not. Choose to follow anyone. You are no leader anymore. Just another one of them.”
“You were just another human before ascending. What makes you think I can’t take command again?”
Preservation took a moment to respond. “It’s because you’re cruel, just like me, Morgaelis.” he coughed, then met her eyes. “That’s why I chose you. Your iron fist was enough, but now that they have tasted freedom, they will not follow your tyrrany, just as they will not follow mine.”
Morgaelis scowled, then turned to look back out of the room towards the Onyx Fields beyond. The Warriors and Defenders were still shouting at each other, legions of them fighting and crying for help. Someone would need to reunite them.
And despite what Preservation said, Morgaelis knew it would be her. Because who would they listen to? The daughter of the betrayer? Or their long-term leader and master, who had never failed them?
Obviously, it would be her. Hadarin was powerful, yes. But she was not experienced. The others would listen to reason. Of that she was certain.
***
Reformation and Restoration stared at each other, dumbfounded by what had just transpired. Reformation, who currently looked like an obsidian skeleton wrapped in glittering red robes, blinked as the orden left.
Restoration, the giant black-iron spider-like entity with three glowing green eyes, hissed and retreated back into the darkness after a moment, leaving the other god alone in the throne chambers.
Authority’s corpse was still nailed to the back of the golden throne by the orden’s sword. It certainly wasn’t anything that Reformation had planned, meaning the strange effects on Preservation extended, to some extent, to Reformation as well. Bothersome.
“Well old friend,” Reformation said, rolling with the punch. “It appears that I have bested you for the last time, as you said.”
Authority’s body didn’t move. It was cold already.
“It’s a shame, really. You came so far yet in the end, it didn’t mean anything. For all your intentions and plans, you--”
Authority’s eyes opened. Violet light faint behind the whites of his eyes began to grow stronger. The rest of the body flinched, then the head slowly looked towards Reformation.
“ERROR. ERROR. ERROR.” The corpse said in a robotic tone, even though the mouth didn’t move. “RUNTIME ERROR DETECTED. REBOOTING.”
“Well,” Reformation said. “This will be interesting.”
word count: 777

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1 Comment
  • happy butterfly

    this confused me yet i understood it lol hmm. i love it a lot!


    4 months ago