It is how all games are played
when two are involved
or two sides
if it is called a draw a Truce
it
will not prevail
eventually it will be
corrupted
as all things governed by Time or an Age
or sleek Consciousness
One will possess the Other
and the Other will not forget
the Hermit
that
is how it was with He
He was enormously
attractive
not physically
His ideas
His manner of
discourse the query
His mystique
overtly
magnetic
what remains unsullied remains naturally Eternal
the moth perishes
that is not the
flames intent
the flame that was the Hermit
was
filled with Intent
and
Malice
Disruption
and coddled every bit as
much His Intent devised Healing
Coalescing and Good Will
still he did not trust the Hermit
the Hermit would not trust him
the gulf between them would not
grow wider
nor would it narrow
they were faces Now
to each other
and neither would dare turn
aside lose the ally of one eye or turn their backs
it was eminently ridiculous
if the Hermit rushed him he
would not survive His onslaught
he might be able inflict a
wound to cripple or disfigure Him
more
than He was
they never fit
they were intrigued
but Intrigue eventually
collects its due
the Lantern blazed
and cast His shadow from the hillock onto the valley floor
the tree tops cringed
it ran mercurial and elastic on
top the strong river water
its fish sank deeper into their
pools rubbing their bellys on the gravel
and stone
the fries silver in the shoals cowered to the undercuts and beneath the
overhanging
boughs
which also chose to bow reverently and not raise up to see that which
threw a
blacker night over them
the beasts they either fled or stood or lay still in those places where
they were
uniquely camouflaged
uniquely camouflaged
Ah --
he laughed -- to be an innocent beast or a brute
the Hermits shadow fell just
shy of where he sat
its flicker was appealing
its
sudden thrusts curtailed its retreats
hesitant
to torment
if He could
He could not
only fear can
be tormented
he did not fear the Hermit
the Hermit knew that
He knew that when they had sat across the same fire satiating their
benign hunger and
thirst
the flicker
a doppelgangers reticulin a curvaceous languid spasm
their patient wait was at its
end
he stood
while he could stand
he looked up into the night sky
above the charred orchid umbra of flame and Light
pushed by the Lantern
above the pyramidal void of the Hermit
the stars would be his witnesses
they nodded their acquiescence
the flicker ceased
the Hermit stood before him
except for the starts of His
eyes the folds of His hood hid His countenance
he knew what he looked like
seeing His face would not make
any difference
His eyes were enough
there were no words to share
he did not know what He waited
for
-- Fool
a single utterance
his reply came with a flick of
his wrist a sharpened and hardened stick
slashed His
face
he hoped both eyes
he blinded His right
the Light He held
retaliated
a searing
brilliant blade cleaved -- his joints shrieked --
his shoulders cauterized
his arms fell to the soft worked dirt
his
fingers dying wormed and rooted in the earth
his heart twisted in his chest listening to its blood emptying somewhere
from collapsing
veins
cleaved again --
joints screamed -- he toppled backwards over his freed legs
and yet staunch pylons they stood guard over him
the Hermit kicked them over as
he strode above him
His
robe coarse against his trembling thighs
one bright start remained
clothed inside His hood
His beard snatched and recoiled like thin black anemone tentacles
the Light sword plunged into
his breast
he could feel his heart draw
and
exhale
its last gouts of panicked blood in two
separate pieces in his chest
over His shoulder
he saw odd stars gathering peering
never blinking or turning their
gaze
he joined them
on an inky black writhing
riding a snake
1347, Friday,
25 7. 14
