A Sordid Venge
By Xenene (Tipped by 2 people!)
Annus-Dominus Vance, Prince-Mancer rhymes:
Withdrawn mind, he paces daily:
Bleaker aire burns whence he stands:
Dark havoc soul, long silent dance!
Restless brooding, chained-sent, howls:
"I'll bide in palace lands!"
Zero Move in garrison: a seeming-cry,
"YOU WON'T ADVANCE!"
His soul promises he'll keep;
striding thousand-Hexes in sleep,
Sere-gaze trance with no surrender;
nor slumber when still;
Map dream-urge; his rage form-render:
Murder, for a crown; his kill:
Erf, bending to his will - in reaps:
Peace by vengeance may bring the end.
Not through love, but through revenge.
- - - - - - -
Inhuman will: that force en-scene.
Offspring of the deathless soul,
Hewed its way to any goal;
Through walls of granite intervened.
Was not impatient in delay,
As one that understands,
When spirit rises,
Fate is ready to obey.
- epigraphs writ of Vance: Traitor to the Side and Deus Rex, Comet Fragment.
♦ ~ ♦ ~ ♦
Vance, Prince and Caster, in his first turns, slew five of six brothers - a succession bid reckless, costing tongue and freedom. Popped without Loyalty, unwilling to marry, poison to diplomacy - garrisoned in a winter palace remote from Side activity, as if deliberately forgotten: only his father's neglected administration forestalls disbandment.
(Yet tales like that do not end easily.)
Vance feels the tug of a faint call one turn:
Unspools memory: flickering detail blooms and colors swirl in his mind:
of pompous books, read in the library of his hated station - older, more candid tomes;
and a story hinted at by inference: that his side holds an origin myth -
(It stopped his feral pacing, as usual alone, in place:
He composed poetry, dictating in the silent voice of the orator.)
- King-suppressed heresy in latter turns, that which came to him unbidden.
- - -
A shard, half buried in dirt, torn from comet-mother -
exploding with new heat.
Fell Life, innate Mancy - yet hating Life and Freedom:
So bitter in trap: heavy its grounding.
Barbarians, unlucky followers of a brute named 'Loss':
He, offered crown and capital site for service, for secret prices:
His vicious misrule of the tribe, made many: for star shard's pleasure.
King Loss, brought down, to its mild disappointment.
A new leader! - distant hexes summoned by a dark voice,
Cruelty downfall: a cycle from Titans' time.
A sly, sadistic successor; a foolish Caster's love -
Strong enough to see his future - yet not hers.
A King sending to his tribal allies:
for a sword with Mancy to cleave a bond - a sacrifice.
A sword held proud; Signs make the King fat;
With too-red cheeks: neglecting all but pleasure.
A trapped star finally forgotten - a city in flourish.
- - - - - - -
A voice distant, old as stories - red as rust, dry as sundered loss - harmonizes with his Thread given to the Magic. He fancied it real enough to speak to: his mad intuition, richly rewarded.
Memory - I. Against All Things Ending
(When a Meteor Red and Left To Die On Winter Beckons... thee Recipie ys this:)
’Come here, now... refresh my wedding
With the ground
I 'VENGE FOREVER, round
Small, womb-severed - proud, fettered.’
In "pop", I lanced; dissevered
HEX FROM HEX! - now simmer, vexed.’
Text: a voxelated whisper: "next. . "
For blood-trials, crowns: reality found in war's dispel.
’My form's scream: "FEAR":
Founding sites stained: verse numbers curses
I, Deus Rex sum FIRST:’
Memory - II. Deus Rex' Mantra
'BLOODTHIRST..' - feed my ache? -
Coagulate: DESIRE, WRITHING - for my ire-rites?
I'm writing icy; are your eyes blind?
Still see; alight-with-fire sky, AI!
Mancy - III. A Murmured Response
It is recognized to be the case;
However: Kingship is my Fate.
Ah - your strange words
May be counsel to my "betters".
However, one cannot be left
To fend - for oneself, it's
A cold way to this end - or with
A girl, or with a chef's knife.
One, a second son of court
Have never truly known the sun
Have never been allowed to run
One bides, waiting for:
Kingship... that deadly Fate
Heard that Predicta-girl gave once
A sly word, and Titansword
To a lord (a boy): oh, then he flew.
"My King", "Father"; if him one knew
One would beg a question: "Why?"
He! A dreamer, Titans-blessed - one mourns!
And that one yet yearns for Deus Rex.
Straight fights, one cannot win again
Though one's the second son because:
Heh - popping seventh wasn't fun;
But one never held gold tongue again.
Nor held advantage in time's race:
Twin non-combat specials do not rate.
King's consort, "Queen", she's feral bitten
As she gave me, too, to fetters.
Well, all now know: one's reft
A mind torn by war n' winds:
It feels as if a toxic sieve,
Yet one ever knew one's strife.
I stop in place,
Your presence turns me:
I lift my head;
but am not proud
I know what I am waiting for -
Kingship is my bitter Fate.
I heard a time
you suffered not to live
any Titanspawn a toy:
then you withdrew.
I sing to you.
Of if I met you, dim
before neglect did cause
This rend-mind caress,
I am torn
Here, Deus Rex,
you would be gold.
I would admire you,
th[r]ough all hate
Were in your gaze:
I am croaking here,
would walk again
No cooling skin;
gifts of strife, might:
A holy cause,
teach gore to run
(though we're G+)
They took my tongue,
but you can hear me.
I know not my soul,
but we still feel things.
and / LET / we / US / might / NOW / JUST / FIND / OUR / SOUL.
Symbiosis - IV. REQUIEM.
Gemini twins in rage n' Fate,
Who dares t' say: "You shall [not] a.d.vance"?
In blood wedding, we dance -
We instrumentals, seizing chance.
Peace by vengeance brings the END.
Not through love, but through revenge.