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LITERATURE

EMISSARY OF RAPTURE
SPY OF HEAVEN

In the beginning there was nothing. Only after awareness of what lies in ones own heart will there ever be endless light. All times, past, present and future in one glorious day.
Even nothing has substance, emptiness a heart...

Aloft amongst the sun bathed clouds of the heavens sits an Angel. Her thoughts stray to the layer of crystalline fire trapped within the thin cylindrical marble, diamond and silver banded podium she rests upon. A fire brought into existence not by Gods, but by the countless thoughts of the souls she watches over tirelessly. It restlessly dances, encased below the diamond, illuminating symbols on the outer of her dais reminding her of the choices she has faced, and the decisions she has made. Tears swell in her eyes, slowly they spill and glide down her soft cheek as a loneliness equal to that of a thousand dying suns fills her heart…
For she is the first, the last, the only one of her kind.

She is an emissary of rapture…

She is a creature of exceptional beauty her long bronze hair flowing like a river of silk down her naked back. Her graceful streamlined silver wings are awash in golden light emanating from her Dragon Familiar who in an eruption of flame has taken flight from the insignia inked on her lower back. The familiar ever watchful of its mistress, and capable of empowering her with the element of fire rears above her right shoulder.. It senses an unease in her.

Her Familiar is not the only company she keeps on her platform atop the sky, for she was not always an emissary of the heavens. It was a choice, an offering she accepted. A selfless act of unparalleled benevolence. A choice that now seams so long ago. Behind her ever under her protection before all others are her own children...

The children, two infants forever preserved in time kept safe from the corruption of the dark , stained world below.
Within an intricate veil of ancient Biochronic technology seized by their mother in a war that lasted eons they rest. Ruby coloured tears of heavens finest Angels processed through a maze of vials keep them both innocent and suspended in an ageless sleep. Forever at peace, forever oblivious to the peril and menace she faces.

The only other creature in her league, guarding her children in her absence, her faithful Lemaca. A small canine like creature, rescued from the shores of Styx a millennium ago. Forever ready to defend her offspring, for it itself has no life to give. After centuries adorning amour forged in the dying breath of a daemon, the Lemaca is void of life, immortal and the perfect guardian. Smiling at the thought of her children's safety, her attention is drawn to the stricken world below.

A desolate, ravaged planet full of despair, yet it is not dire emotions she feels calling her. It is a distinct consciousness. Much stronger than any anguish. It is passion… She feels a burning fire of thought that awakens memories of her decision to ascend to the heavens.

If only she could remember the reason.

Yes… It was a word. A simple, four letter word, and yet it carries the weight equal to that at the centre of a black hole. A single word that changed her forever and has defined her for an eternity, her purpose for being... Love!

Looking at the world below with a heavy heart she wonders if there can be such a thing as love left in this place. Yet the feeling of passion remains, it is calling her... Only time will attest to both the future of the world below and the loneliness that has so filled her heart for an eternity. For now there is work to be done… Change may soon be upon them all…

Kelt 2009


THE VESTIBULE OF UROBOROS
EMISSARY OF RAPTURE II

Not all things have dawning or limitation. Some remain endless, ageless, a vortex of substance, interwoven as tightly as fine Egyptian cotton… Threads of existence that will forever be transfused in a fabric of incalculable time. Both a beginning and an end that will remain infinite. Life, love, death, the Uroboros forever feeding upon itself...

Heavens only emissary has been drawn to this arctic wasteland in search of an age old monument, summoned here by a passion she has not felt for an aeon. Its precise source eluding her yet filled with a familiar but unfamiliar love.

Such a simple word is love. Yet equally complex an entity, in that Mortals, Angels, even Gods are not immune to the musical ensemble of notes it writes continuously across the stave of existence. Long ago she was once in love, a time that bore her two children. Now only solitary isolation remains after timeless servitude to the heavens. Love, not lost to her in its entirety, the love for her children remaining infinite, but her own affections shifted by the sands of time to a new perspective. The love she has now, only for the unfortunate souls she forever watches over and protects on this forsaken planet. Still beckoning on the horizon of her solitude, change lingers in wait.

Not since her ascension to the heavens has she experienced an emotion so pure with such conviction. What ever this calling of heartfelt sentiment may bring to light, she has been drawn to this realm of frozen desolation to seek answers.

Beneath her feet a pristine microcosm of the solar system mirrors the celestial bodies in the heavens above. The six planets in perfect harmony, moving in unison with the precision of finely tuned clockwork around the golden orb of Solaris, radiating the warmth and light that maintains life.

In contrast to the serenity of these celestial spheres, rising from the ice before her stands the very reason she is here.

The Vestibule of Uroboros...

Built in tribute to Gods, now fallen and forgotten to the frost of this wasteland, this portal to countless realities is capable of turning the tides of war and altering paths of histories as yet unwritten. Continuity is of no consequence, this ancient monument born of technology from beyond the stars, able to tear the sinews of time and reweave its threads into newborn realities. Changing timelines, destinies, even the fates of worlds.

During its construction the Biotechonic core of this shrine was infused with the dark souls of three ancient prophets. Each viciously murdered for their forbidden love of a Goddess, their souls torn from their bodies by the God Zian and imprisoned within the Uroboros for eternity. Their names now lost to the world but their corrupt minds remaining ever present within this sanctuary of lunacy. The prophets three effigies forever keep watch over the portal entrance their eyes bound from the sights of this world, yet their minds forever open, their knowledge of foresight and time, limitless and unequaled.

Centuries have driven their souls to madness imprisoned within a perpetual loop of endless time, their eternal damnation facilitating in breaching the restrictions of methodical physics. Her arrival here is but destiny playing out its cycle, her name fixed in archaic text above the portal entrance. They have watched the stars for her coming, they have waited, and now finally she is here. They sense her deepest desires, her darkest fears, her absoluteness, and they have answers to that which she seeks.

Every fiber of her being is alert as the continuous chattering of the prophets fills her ears, the sound like that of a thousand locusts simultaneously taking flight, the resonance almost intolerable, yet she remains serene. In response to her calmness she is presented with an apparition looming above the gaping yaw of the Uroboros and the bound vision of the prophets. The setting familiar to her as a temple of the Goddess Lucidia, the figure at its center humanoid, its body stripped of flesh, barely alive and bound by the same technology responsible for this spectral vision. This tortured soul as defined by the prophets, unquestionably the source of her calling. The clairvoyance of the three prophets of the Uroboros has proved invaluable, she now knows where this journey will take her.

Advancing towards the ancient monolith of Biochronic technology her silver wings outstretched to bathe in the rays of the forever arctic sun, she walks with the grace and stealth of a stalking feline. Each step inexplicably defining her natural beauty as she defiantly approaches the looming spire of madness rising from the timeless dominion before her.

As she gathers her thoughts in preparation to pass through the open portal, a sigh escapes her lips as she studies the vision of divination before her. The decision to adorn her armour upon her slender shoulders proving wise, for other than her black as night leather boots it is the only clothing she wears. In extension to her armour, trailing behind her, two interlocking chains cast from the molten slag of the last gate of Gehenna, the chains consummating in razor edged blades, a gift for her covert services during the last great campaign. Lightning fast, lethally obedient, deadly accurate and tuned to her thoughts alone.

These are her weapons of war…

War, has both a beginning and an end. Her fight however remains endless in bringing safety to the inhabitants of this world, but at what cost to her own sanctity? Now it is not a mortal that needs her, whatever this creature is, or was, it has called for her, of that she is certain. As she approaches the threshold to this gateway of madness the insignia inked on her lower back dances with golden flames of rapture. Her Dragon Familiar stirs in anticipation of what is to come. Her thoughts weighted by the realization, she has been here before.
An ominous sensation fills her mind, the prophets imparting a final message.

All things have a time and place. Even Angels…

Kelt 2011


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