Creation, Destruction

The matte black dragon swooped over the castle keep and flew high into the red sky and let out a mighty roar that shook the world below. In a tower, oh so very far away, a fireplace that never dies illuminates a study that’s been left still for too long. Dust has collected in a fine thin layer over books, shelves, desks, old parchment. A single window looks out to a great lake below reflecting moonbeams from the lovely pale Luna high in the sky. The elements of Fire and Water, forever at war, turning and swirling in the sky above the great lake, balancing the world by means of an intricate dance, once known by man but now lost to time. A lone sentry at his post with a white shield and gown, devoted and  never without honor and courage.  Always at his post and forever unquestionably guarding a white room for which no man comes out of. He looks into the distance and sees a soldier in silver armor walking through the trees carrying the battered helmet of his son, lost in battle. He’s accompanied by some sort of spirit. Perhaps the soldier’s son walking beside his father assuring him safe passage home, wherever home may be now. The soldier isn’t weeping, no, he doesn’t need to. His eyes say everything and before the sentry could study him more, the soldier is lost out of sight never to be seen again. On another planet, somewhere far away, a small creature with large eyes and odd garb looks up and sees a sliver of light silently descend closer and closer to the creature until the unknown object is hovering almost straight above the perplexed figure. The creature stares at it and points not knowing what ever to make of it just knowing that now it should be asking a lot more questions about everything. The dragon makes his descent and thunders down towards the castle, the study starts to slowly shake and tremble, shaking the dust that’s been left undisturbed for so long. The opposing elements that are both friends and adversaries, finish their dance. The small silver spaceship, knowing that it’s presence of just being there has now done the job of opening up a new species’ eyes, starts to fly away just as silently as it left. The sentry hears a noise and he does something he’s never done before. Putting up his guard, shield and sword in hand, trusting familiar and strong in his hands, the sentry turns to look in the white room. A knife, much larger than the sentry has ever seen pierces through the door and slices through the sentry and the knife drags its razor sharp edge through all worlds in one fell slice. The dragon, unable to change course, flies right into the gash in it’s world and is lost forever in one dying scream of rage and fire. The UFO loses control and is pulled into it. The little odd creature, bewildered, it’s mind desperately trying to make sense of yet another strange and frightening new thing, runs Inside his home with the delusion of safety. The planet immediately begins to crumple in on itself. Walls fall in towards each other and bend in odd angles. The quake increases in strength and a log rolls out of the fireplace and all of the study, filled with timelessly old books and parchment, is now up in roaring flames licking the sides of the walls and engulfing ancient tomes and sacred words in it’s merciless crave. The elements are thrown off of course and blindly fly off in different directions and the forests start to melt into puddles of green and brown color. The world, tattered, sliced, scorched and melted finally is still and slowly starts to lose it’s color and fade away. The sentry is all that’s left now. Lying in a white void, panting and dying. The floor was of a coarse fabric underneath him but sticky with blood. For the last moments in his world, he looks up and sees a kid with long black hair holding a razor, weeping over his fallen Sentry. In the sentry’s last dying breath he whispers, “You will learn one day that destruction is a form of creation and I will be back one day, stronger than ever to serve as the guardian of your imagination once more…in time.” And with that his eyes closed, he chest fell still and he himself began to melt. His face turned unrecognizable and distorted. The sword and shield lost their durability and strength and finally the sentry was no more than a puddle of red and white paint and faded away just as his world did. And everything was silent.