(DRAFT)
“There was a darkness in the Heavens; a darkness that blocked out the stars, as if they had been plucked from the sky by primordial hands. Only a charcoal black horizon devoid of the cosmic light of the gods remained; a horizon that the denizens of Planet Gliexe would gaze at with disinterest, if they even looked up at the sky at all, that is…”
“The darkened fields of dust and ash that stretched about the landscape further painted a dismal scene of desolation and ruin. In the early days, before the birth of God King Nerotek, the fields of Gliexe were abundant with shimmering flowers and violet-tipped stalks of sweet, scented grass. Arch trees littered the landscape, and there were even whole forests teeming with flora and fauna. Today, there are no trees, no forests, no flora or fauna, no tulips to soak in the light of the twin blood stars or singing birds to float adrift in the breeze. 2000 years after the descent of Nerotek from his crimson throne in the sky there is now only ash, dust, and death.”
The man who read aloud the words scrawled on the parchment in his dirty, gloved hand paused for a moment. He turned his skeptical, one eyed gaze to the other man that sat beside him and shouted, “Get a load of this bull shit! The old man fancied himself a writer! Ha!”
The other figure, a hooded man shrouded in the dark corner of the candle lit room, said nothing.
“Trees? Flora and fauna? A time before the Eye of Nero? What drivel is this? Living out here alone in the wastes certainly fried this bastard's mind! And look!” The one eyed man pointed to a stack of papers, dusty books and yellowed scrolls sitting on a wooden table near the entrance of the room. “More of the poor souls ramblings. I tell you, we did the world a favor by killing this lunatic.”
He stood up from his creaky chair and walked over to the corpse that lay on the floor in the middle of the dimly lit room. The dead man was dressed in gray, tattered robes. He appeared to be in his fifties or sixties perhaps, and was nearly bald.
“Rest in oblivion, you old fool.” One Eye spat vehemently. “Now then, we should be moving on soon.” He stooped down to search the corpse for any spoils. “The Augmentors will be on patrol soon, so let's take what little else we can carry and burn this stink hole down.” He rose to his feet, stuffing a translucent pouch of shimmering coins into his shirt pocket. “I’ve got my fair share of what I came here for, so I’ll see you outside, Aydrian.”
The hooded man called Aydrian said nothing as his companion exited the small, desolate shack. For a moment there was silence, and then Aydrian rose to his feet, the rotted floorboards creaking beneath his weight. As he stood up, the glow of the lone candle in the room seemed to wane by his presence, the shadow of his being overcoming the light and almost consuming it. He slowly approached the pile of parchments in the corner of the room and eyed them cautiously, taking a dusty book and opening it carefully.
Upon the yellowed pages of the manuscript he read more of his victims writings: Strange texts speaking of ancient, invisible temples, primordial races before the time of man, mystical congregations of planetary bodies in the sky, and so many more cryptic writings that puzzled him greatly. Aydrian was not a learned man by any stretch of the imagination, but even he knew that what he had happened to stumble upon was, perhaps, something more than just the ramblings of a madman.
Maybe I can fetch a good price for some of these, he thought. They seem rather old and valuable, and even if they ARE just the writings of some decrepit hermit, I’m sure I’ll be able to find some gullible bastard to take this off my hands. Passing on the delusions of the dead to the foolish living, huh? Seems like a small part of him will still live on after all…
Aydrian closed the book and a small cloud of dust fluttered from its withering pages into the air around him. He stuffed this book, along with a few others that appeared interesting, into his bag and walked to the entrance of the shack. Before he exited, he turned to look for a final time at the result of his work. The ransacked home with its former inhabitant lying motionless on the floor and the mess of papers and furniture strewn about was a grim sight indeed. For a brief moment, as he gazed at the destruction he had brought into this stranger's home, he felt a sharp pluck of shame that struck the chords of his heart, playing a subtle, melancholic note that trembled in the darkness of his being. This melody of regret was brief, however, for a hardness came upon him, and the music was silenced abruptly. Aydrian clenched his fist tightly, and turned his back to the suffering he had caused. The wooden door rattled on its rusted hinges as it slammed shut behind him.
The decaying shack that Aydrian now emerged from was built half concealed on the side of a large outcropping of slate colored stone. For many miles, the surrounding areas were barren, with stretching wastes of gray sand dunes as far as the eye could see. The monotonous ashen terrain was occasionally interrupted by massive, rocky spires that emerged from beneath the sands like the gnarled, reaching fingers of some subterranean giant yearning to taste the light in the world above. Yet further beyond these giants, a shape could be discerned among the sand dunes: a monolithic tower obscured by storms of ash beckoned to those that glimpsed upon its ghastly visage. The denizens of the wastes called this edifice of shifting stone Terra Gehenna, the hybrid machine city from which forth rode the Augmentors of Nero at the sinking of the twin stars.
Aydrian shuddered at the sight of this horrendous thing, pulling his tattered robe closer to him in a futile attempt to warm his chilled body. “Sunset is coming. We need to leave.” He said to One Eye beside him who waited with a torch of flame in hand. “Took you long enough. Let’s get the hell out of here.” answered One Eye with a slight hint of fear in his voice. He hurriedly set the old dwelling aflame and slung his sack of stolen goods over his shoulder, motioning for Aydrian to follow him.
The two men fled the scene, scrambling up a nearby sandy dune with anxious haste, almost slipping on the steep, uneven surface many times as they ran. They did not dare look back. Even when the smell of burning wood and melting flesh pursued their nostrils like hell hounds hunting sinner prey they kept their gaze forward. Even when the sands of ash and dust of ensuing storms hungrily licked at their heels, and the distant, synthetic wails of the Augmentors echoed from forbidden Terra Gehenna. The two men dared not turn their gaze, for what lurked in the rapidly approaching darkness brought limitless horrors beyond the small world of human thought. Horrors that transcended earthly fears born of instinct and pain. A long time ago, these men had learned a valuable lesson: that to survive in this accursed world it was sometimes better to remain ignorant of what lurked beneath the murky seas of the unknown; that an unprepared mind peering into such depths could only lead to annihilation.
So, they fled from these haunted waters, never once looking back to get a glimpse at the source of the almost humanlike mechanical wailing that vibrated in their ears; never finding a reason for the horrid, acidic stench that followed in the presence of the Augmentors. In the end, the two men had wordlessly agreed that they did not want to find out, choosing to remain in ignorance of what lies just outside the limiting spheres of human understanding. The only thing these mortal beings could do during such a moment of terror was pray. Pray that the transcendent Eye of Nero would pass over them and look elsewhere in the wastes. Pray to whatever gods remained to live another day under the light of the twin blood stars.