Gods and Empires: Jewel (prologue)

Prologue: The Game

         The library candles dripped noiselessly, their combined light illuminating the floor-to-ceiling shelves lined with books of other Ages and Times. There, in the middle of the room, stood a Being, a chronicler of tales. His lips drew back in a smile, teeth flashing as his head lifted sharply, shoulder length black hair rippling with the movement. Something new was beginning, a tale that would influence the times ahead.

         From within the Being, three aspects reached forward to gather up one of the tomes from the expanse of shelves and place it on an age-darkened table. His eyes flickered from golden-brown to bright blue and then to a dark murky green, before returning to their original color.

         His lips moved as he murmured to himself, eyes switching to that impossibly bright blue. "Another story?" The voice was young, far younger than a man who appeared to be in his third decade, boyish and full of excitement.

         "Yes," he said again, answering himself as his eyes once more changed to golden-brown. "Another story, boy." His voice was older now, more mature. "And we will watch as it records, as we have always done."

         "And always will do," he snapped, sounding ancient and impatient. The now dark green eyes burned with irritation. "Get on with it, young man! Time cannot wait for you two to discuss it!"

         Once again, his voice was that of a young man. "Very well." They stared down at the large tome and he waved his hand over the glossy wooden cover.

         The tome opened to the first page, a blank expanse of paper ready for filling. A soft chuckle rumbled in his slender chest as words began to appear on the empty page...

         In the hollow that is the Essence existed all the materials for life; Power both Pure and Tainted. Millions of stars embedded in the inky, midnight depths cast their pulsing light upon the armor of the celestial armies that faced each other across a barely-formed battle ground, restless hisses echoing from both sides. At the front of the feline army a soft light began to glow, sending a quiet sigh of adoration up through the ranks. It thickened, a form becoming clear in its center, encased in armor...

*****

         The Blessed Lady Sharess, also called Kashiera, Lioness Daughter of the Mighty Sun, Divine Instrument of His Wrath, and Reverent Mother of Felines, removed Her helmet and stared across the vast expanse of the Essence, tail twitching with barely disguised eagerness. Soft, tawny fur covered Her face, blending in at the temples with waist-length, black hair. Perched atop Her pointed, tufted ears was the solar disk that crowned Her - an entwined gold and silver circlet.

         Her armor burst alive with light and colors when She stirred restlessly and lifted the Sacred Spear in slender hands. The Ankh of Life carved upon the golden tip flared brightly as the Goddess stood in all Her magnificent glory and anger. Her Opponent neared and Her emerald eyes darkened.

         In a show of great power the very stuff of life and chaos writhed and clashed, forming a tear in the Essence that expanded rapidly. On the other side of the rip was an endless darkness, untouched by light. Where the star-studded, bluish depths of the Essence met the edges of the rip, chaos reigned supreme; like maggots feasting under ripe skin, the edges boiled and twisted as unseen creatures struggled to bring themselves into being.

         Great, black, leathery wings rippled with the ease of motion as the Dragon flew from the tear; the light of the stars seemed to shrink away, leaving Him in shadow. His dark yellow eyes, hooded by great, scaled eye-ridges, narrowed upon the opposing army as His tail passed the opening, which began to knit itself back together. His armor was scales like liquid midnight and large as a horse; talons sharp as a dagger’s blade were His weapons. A mighty clap of thunder sounded with a flap of the jet-black wings and the Lord Dragon settled slowly upon the hazy ground, unceremoniously dropping the trussed Being held in His claws.

         Large and beautifully masculine was the God, glaring up at the Dragon with flaring golden eyes. So strongly did hatred burn within them that the Lord Dragon flinched in momentary fear. Deep black hair fell in waves to smooth, muscular shoulders, and His skin was the color of molten gold. Even tied as He was, His towering height was evident in his long legs and torso. From the top of His head to the bottom of His feet, truly was Misra perfection.

         The darkly shadowed sinew of an Ancient Wyrm bound the mighty God, twisting, shifting, and tightening around His wrists when He yanked. Alas, even vibrant Misra, the Eternal Sun in all His wondrous Glory, could not break that indestructible substance. He struggled against His bonds, roaring out His anger. “Seth! I demand you free Me, you inconsequential, insubordinate worm!”

         Cursed Sekra, or Seth as He is oft called, God of Chaos, Lord of the Northern Sky, Voice of Thunder, Eternal Enemy of the Mighty Sun, and Father of Serpents, hissed softly with laughter. His eyes slit with an emotion that could almost be described as malice, almost as jealousy, though either word lacked the true depths and dimension of the animosity felt for the Being facing Him. All manner of crawling, slithering reptiles stood behind Him, forked tongues testing the air with undisguised glee.

         Blacker than a moonless night, His massive leathery wings snapped back with a loud echo. Wisps of Darkness trailed from their clawed tips as smoke curled from the Dragon’s nostrils. Snakes, growing from His long, serpentine neck, slithered in agitation over His scales, the rustling noise vibrating in the Essence. His forked tongue slurring His voice, Cursed Sekra spoke, saying, “You are in no position to demand anything, Misssra.” Cold was the Dragon’s heart, and no caring did He have. Then did Cursed Sekra, full of malice, strike the Eternal Sun with a mighty paw.

         Blessed Lady Sharess, beloved by all, watched with frustration and helplessness as Her Father was flung away. He landed with a groan, then lay still. Eternal He may have been; impervious to pain He was not. Her head lifted with a snap and She glared at the Dragon.

         Manipulating the chaotic stuff of the Essence, the Blessed Lady Sharess formed a shield on Her arm, growling in warning. Her voice prowled out, low and throaty. “I come now to take back that which was stolen!” Her tail whipped back and forth and She hissed in anger. “Return My Father or you will be smote down where you stand!”

         Repulsive laughter burst from Lord Sekra’s dark chest. He waved a clawed hand then lightly kicked the unconscious God. “Misssra is Mine, whelp! Defeat Me and your precious Lord will be yours once more.” Roaring loudly, He narrowed His eyes. “But know this, Sssharesss,” Sekra's voice lowered with menace. “Should we do battle," He continued, "Me and Mine shall destroy Creatsssion!” He paused, sensing Her hesitation. “And what of your children then, Mother? Shall they be destroyed for the sssake of one God?” Sekra asked, taunting Her.

         Frustration curled Her fist tight around the Spear as thoughts rippled through Her mind. Knowing that Misra must be freed Beloved Sharess was still unable to close Her motherly heart and mind to the thought of millions being destroyed. She hissed softly and proudly raised Her head, calling out to Him. “A Challenge!”

         Lord Sekra, always willing to have a chance to work His wily ways, paused, interest flickering through His serpentine eyes. “I hear.”

         “A game of strategy. Should I achieve the goal, My Father is returned, never to be attacked again.”

         “And ssshould you fail?”

         “Should I fail, He...He will be yours.” A quiet hiss escaped Her lips, fear unfurling in Her belly. She continued bravely. “His Life will be yours.” Verily did She know the consequences of such a game if She lost.

         Then did the Mighty Dragon gesture, pulling Power from the Essence. His Form shifted and shrank, becoming a thin, bony creature with a serpent’s head and a long, slithering tail shooting out behind Him. The wings of black whipped out to cover His vile Army and then closed tightly with a resounding clap, dragging the amassed reptiles within. With a twitch of the shoulder, His wings became a long black cloak swirling around Him. He sat down in a hazily formed chair, His mouth cracking into a venomous leer. Darkness spilled from His serpentine, masculine form and warped, twisted Power oozed from His scales, creating turbulent pools of malicious hatred.

          “Come forward, pusssy cat,” He sneered, gesturing to a chair forming across from Him. “Rid yourself of your armor and gird yourself with Wit and Wisdom. For, make no mistake, this, also, isss Battle.” He paused, waving a claw. “With Misssra as the spoils.” Between Them and off to the side, a golden cage appeared and the Lord of Chaos grinned evilly.

         Light flashed around the Lioness and She materialized in the other chair, the feline army gone. A disdainful smirk curled Her feminine lip at Sekra’s distasteful showmanship. Her sleek, unarmored form, now draped in a gauzy robe, glowed with an Inner Light. The fur of Her face also covered Her body from head to toe. Pure Power flowed from Her in rippling shimmering waves of warmth and love. Her tail curling around Her, She turned Her gaze to Sekra, resting the Sacred Spear in Her lap.

         Her eyes flicked over to the golden cage where Misra lay on His side. The slow rise and fall of His chest reassured Her, and She turned back to the Dragon, hissing. “I am aware, abomination, of the cost of failure. Let Us get on with this. My Father is restless.”

         "Your Father," He stated with calm heartless cruelty, "is unable to move, much lessss be restless." In mockery of His Opponent's pose, His tail curled around Him also. “The game?”

         Her breath caught in Her throat with anger as She bit back a retort. Fear tightened its fist in Her gut and She closed Her eyes. Who do the Gods pray to when They are in need? She straightened proudly, opening Her eyes and growling at Him. "Empires."

         Sekra rasped his bony hands together gleefully. "Empires it isss." Many opponents had lost their people to Him in a game of Empires. Lives is what the game was all about. "The board?"

          “The world of Jewel.” The Goddess enclosed Her palms in a circle. Great was Her Power and greatness did She work, bringing forth a world between Her hands. It grew, filling the space between the two of Them until land masses could be seen.

          “The pieces?”

         “Our children.” The Goddess spoke and Her will became law. The world moved, growing indistinct around the edges and focusing upon a small continent.

         A breathless hush fell on the whole of Creation as the Gods’ decision was weighed, balanced, and duly noted. The stakes were high. For Misra, the Eternal Sun, brought Life to the world of men. Dark and Light gathered Power, heads bowed in concentration, and the Essence trembled.

         Four and two-footed felines poured from the blinding radiance of the Light. Proud, noble lions like the Goddess Herself, beautiful, exotic cheetah-like creatures and still others with the tufted ears of the Lynx. The Goddess stretched forth Her hands and gathered Power, slowly forming the shape of a creature with Her likeness.

         Then did She place upon it Life and Wisdom, giving it Her own name of Kashiera. For surely as the Goddess was Light, so too was this creature, this world-walker and this vessel for Her Spirit. “I name thee My Avatar, that you might carry My Essence throughout the world.” And blessed was Kashiera, Avatar to the Divine Wraith, and proudly did she perform her duties all of her days until her Life was once more called back to the folds of her Mother’s love.

         In answer to this glory, bubbles arose from the vile pools of hatred that surrounded the God of Chaos. A noxious odor exploded out as they burst, spewing forth atrocities of all manners; slithering, oozing abominations of serpentine nature with the torsos of many other creatures and the heads and tails of serpents.

         Lord Sekra reached into the muck, pulling out an upright creature with slithering vipers for hair and eyes of crimson blood. “Mine,” He hissed. The creature looked up to Him, growling harshly in hard, clipping syllables. And so, too, was Seth created, the Avatar of the God of Chaos, Cursed Sekra...the twisted, warped reflection of all that is Good.

         A river of furry bodies poured from the Goddess, just as a slithering mass of reptilian flesh came from the God. Small portals opened into the world and the different creatures stepped, slithered, jumped, or fell through. Lord Sekra’s cold yellow eyes glittered and He hissed softly. “Begin.”