Chapter 203: There Was Once a Man Who Could Not Die (III)

Chapter 203: There Was Once a Man Who Could Not Die (III)

Chapter 203

There Was Once a Man Who Could Not Die (III)

There was once a man who could not die. His songs were unsung, his words unspoken, his actions forgotten within the realms of time. The tiny, spirit motes would whisper ere and there, and their whispers winds would bury, for it was heresy to speak of that which cannot be spoken of.

There was rage in the high skies, anger within the observing eyes. Though far, they saw it nearand they feared, protested, struggled. But they could not approach the man who could not die. He was above them, as they were above many others. He was beyond them, as they were beyond most others.

All they could do was watch the story unfold in silence, holding their breaths, wondering how it would end. For, unlike the man, they could die. They were merely old, but they were not eternal. Few things were, and fewer still were of living. Rage, lifetime by lifetime, became envyand envy was ugly, rooted, festering like an infected wound, all-consuming. They punished the man who could not die, but that punishment was hollow. It was empty. Pointless. Petty. Human.

There was once a man who could not die, his wings of life eternal. His name was spoken into the aeons of nothing and it was known, though never truly uttered. All those who breathed wished to meet the manbut the man was beyond them. He was within a dome cast of things that terrified them. They could not approach, not by eyes, not by lips, not by feet.

For there were red eyes of the wolves, and the sapphire eyes of lions, and beasts beyond description watching them. The secret was within the touch of their lips, yet seemed incomparably far away. They could see, but never acquire. Forever tempted, eternally denied.

Sylas stood upon the cliff overseeing the capital city once again, his expression indifferent, eyes glazed in years eternal. By his side, Asha was playing with a cat they picked up along the way, petting the furry little creature as the latter meowed in protest whenever she stopped.

Im going, he said.

Good luck, she replied as he jumped off the cliff and landed on the open plains.

Mere moments later, a figure like a phantom appeared from the rift in space, clad in armour even thicker than the last time. He appeared stout and determined, the look in his eyes one of fearlessness.

Again? Sylas chimed in as the world around them began to bleed, just as the last time, transforming from the idyllic plains into the infernal hell, long since forgotten by the time itself.

Again, the King replied with a nod and a brief mutter.

...

Its childish and stupid, I know. But I always believed if there was one element that might stand the chance of harming the gods, it was lightning. I was wrong, obviously. It can barely harm you.

... I wouldnt put too much thought into that, the man replied, seeming to draw the last few breaths in him.

Why?

Im pretty sure Im much, much harder to kill than the gods, the man replied as a torrent of shock swam through Wyvenul. And, unlike me, once they die they die. They dont come back like an annoying hound to bite you back. Alas, it seems my time has come. This time around, anyway. If you dont have more cards in your sleeve, I will kill you the next time, o ye mighty King. Dont make it so boorish. Surprise me more and more.

... do you see me simply as entertainment? the King asked with a wronged expression.

I see the rest of this world as white noise that may as well not exist, the man replied with a sombre smile. You being entertainment well, it is leagues beyond that. Farewell. Until next time.

The man drew the last breath but, unlike the last time, the King didnt feel the twine of time drag him back through hell. Frowning, he looked around when he spotted something that chilled his souljust a few yards behind him, there was a milky-white doe and an ebony-black crow on top of its head, standing and staring at the man.

We will help him, dear doe? the crow seemed to speak suddenly, but Wyvenul couldnt say a thing. He knew who these two werethey were with her. On par with her. The namesakes of eternity.

We will help them both, dearest crow, the doe responded, its beady eyes shifting away from the man who had died to the King. One to die with dignity, and another to experience joy at last. Let there be a battle never forgotten, not even by time itself.

Let there be so, dearest doe.

No

It is fine, the crow interrupted as black tendrils began to shift out of its feathers. I wish to curate one last spectacle, dearest doe. One last spectacle. Will you allow me?

... let it be the grandest spectacle of them all.

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