The Color of Myth

This is a story of hidden potential and our search for purpose in a universe of chaos and uncertainty.

Bells and alarms were going off with a high pitched screech. She could hear the distant popping of munitions going off as a psff psff sound as she ran down the darkened corridor. She could feel the heat radiating from the center of the complex. There was a sense of urgency and she was able to follow the trail her twin had left as the team had run down the corridor. She felt her energy focus on her twin, Damask. She knew she had to find him. She stopped suddenly. The blackness swirled in circles. Someone was trying to get her to lose her way. Her vision sharpened. Her normally violet stare turned a brilliant blue as she turned toward Damask. The heat emanated to the right. A spectacular sight of oranges, reds, greens, blues and finally pinpointing upon the white she ran toward it. She flew her hand out in front of her and she propelled through the door, shredding it as she entered and came to an abrupt stop.

The cavern was a huge crystal. Her vision fell upon the center. Upon a rock plateau stood a dark figure. In his hand was the crystal pyramid. Its brilliant colors twinkling all different colors, casting light, and shadows against the walls. She stood paralyzed for a moment. She saw the Javan’s spread in a circle around the figure, weapons drawn, all except Damask. She was surprised at the anger she saw on his face as he stared at the dark figure. She started to creep forward, when the figure turned toward her. A jolt of surprised rocked her as she recognized the man from her visions. She recognized the slight sneer on his full lips a second before everything exploded and she heard all the Javan’s scream, “No!” before she was lifted up into the air, all the molecules in her body exploding. For one split second she thought she was dead. She reached out for Damask, and she felt she was floating.  Her body crumpled to the ground, she floated above it, wanted to cry out and then blackness enveloping her.

Chaos Mechanism

One of the finest aspects of life is the chaos.

Brought together with the fulsome heady smell of ivy-soaked gin.

The smoky haze of cigarettes, herbs and incense floated in the air. The room had a heady damp feel. As if the walls were bleeding. The windows did not exist anymore, covered over long ago with dirty film and dust. A music played floating softly through the air. As my body moved silently through the room seeking him, I could not help but admire mortals and Kytians alike their sense of ignorance.

Time slows down in the Sagittarian form.

Searching and seeking. I have been on the prowl for a thousand years looking for this specific specimen. When I got a whiff that he had finally been sent to this planet I was excited, at first. Then I had to wait. And wait and wait. It seemed endless, the waiting. I found the other one. She was snug, in the arms of her adoptive family. I didn’t need to focus on her right now. Well, I did but not right this minute. Back to the task at hand. The mortal I am looking for has the idiotic name of Damask. Damask is a flower, I think. We don’t get to name our children. Parents don’t know the names of their child until the resurrection form and parental rights have been signed and the birth verification has been delivered. A child’s name is revered. A gift from the Elders of the Sacred on High. More on that later.

I sniffed, well in this form you can feel, see, and generally smell but are not seen unless you are one of the sensitive mortals or spectral wraiths and they are just a little creepy, even for me. So onward I pushed through the haze to find my mortal! There he was, all tucked in the corner, with a hand knitted beanie, his knapsack, and some blue drink in hand. Ah conversing with his adoptive brother.... Sabbath...the green one. As I meandered over, I noticed the spiral horns just starting to sprout. Midian mature slowly, so this one was probably around seventy, whereas Naturian mature a lot slower than Midion’s, so I approximated they were about the same age. So wrong, so so wrong. Anyway, I was not quite ready to show myself, so I eavesdropped.

“You cannot tell me that Sabbath and not expect me to react.” stated Beanie Boy. 

“I didn’t tell you a damn thing you don’t already know asshole. Besides, don’t you think you should at least come to her aging ceremony instead of hiding out in seedy bars?” 

“Is that rhetorical or an actual question? Because the last time I came home, the Forrest Dwellers hauled me off to their boot camp for three months.

“That is because you fucking almost killed someone Damask! Do you honestly think your sentence was hard? Before you tell me, it was not your fault, I know!”

I heard the green one sigh and go on. “Just come and see Rhyme for once. She misses you and she is sick of me. Plus, I think we need to discuss what to do with papan’s and maman’s belongings. They didn’t have much, but the cottage is ours.”

“Alright, alright, you are pretty boring, so I could help Rhymie out with that.” Damask laughed and took a swing at Sabbath who laughed in return and they both drank from their tankards. I started to worry about this weird bonding ritual, when I heard Damask say, “Sabbath, I have been having dreams again. The ones about Premonition.”

Sabbath blanked his face, it is the only word I can think of that he did, as my classical or galactic language isn’t always up to par. 

Damask shrugged his shoulders waiting for Sabbath to respond. Sabbath drank from his tankard and said, “Yeah so have I.” Not the response I would have expected. 

 Sabbath lit the end of a cheroot and inhaled the sweet aroma and blew it out. “You know, we don’t know if this Premonition actually exists. It isn’t only any of the navigational charts and Rhyamian says that it is not on any of the star charts either. And...:” 

“You brought Rhyamian into this? How could you? Wow, Sab”

“She is the best damn researcher we know Damask. Plus, she would have killed me if she found out what we are going to do and she wasn’t involved.”

“Do the twins know? Ah, of course they do! Why state the obvious. Fuck!” Damask explained loudly drumming his hands on the table. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sabbath asked clearly confused by Damask’s angry reaction.

Damask grabbed his tankard, downed the contents and tried to stand, stumbled, steadied himself on the edge of the table and said, “Nothin’, I am going to go to sleep. See you soon Sab.” and walked away, climbing the stairs to his rented room.

The green guy sat at the table for a little while, sipping his drink, while the music blared around him. Instead of following Damask, I chose to watch the one named Sabbath. I was curious because his tattoos changed to a dark black when he was explaining his point of view and then faded again back to muted grey. He finished his cheroot and stubbed it out, grabbed his jacket and moved through the room toward the door with a grace that was predatory for one so big. It was more determined confidence. My mind started to wander into possibilities when I forced myself back to the task at hand. The child….

I wandered through people, well avoided touching any of the people. You really do not want to walk through people when astralling because you pick up their humanity, if they have any, feelings, thoughts and wants and desires. Ugh, so I switched tactics and moved around them. I found the child face down on a bare mattress covered in what appeared as dirty blankets. An empty bottle dropped from his hands, so I knew he was asleep. If I could have, I would have been rubbing my hands together.