[Ｇｅｎｅａｌｏｇｙ]

Ｏｕｒ Ｄａｒｋ Ｓｐｈｅｒｅ＇ｓ Ｓｉｎｇ Ｏｆ Ｓｏｒｒｏｗ．
In the shadows of the Obsidian Temples of Western Ayenee, from which the ‘Old Ones’ have long withdrawn their blessings. They pursue their parent darkness and stars like somnolent, wounded embryos struck helpless and bloodied, caught between death and rebirth, forgetful and yet mindful of their crimes. Their vestiges are profound, their sepulchre's infinite, their star’s songs sorrowful - for these ancient progeny have paid a horrendous and terrible consequence for the rebellion and heresy of their forbearers. The Father of All. The Black Phoenix.

Ｔｈｅ Ｄｅｖｏｕｒｉｎｇ Ｄａｒｋｎｅｓｓ： Ｓｈａｒｕｔｈ＇Ｃｎｏｌｔｈｉ．
ˢʰᵃʳᵘᵗʰ'ᶜᶰᵒˡᵗʰᶤ| ᴼᵇˡᶤᵛᶤᵒᶰ| ᵀʰᵉ ᴴᵘᶰᵍᵉʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴮᵉʸᵒᶰᵈ| ᵀʰᵉ ᴮˡᵃᶜᵏ ᴾʰᵒᵉᶰᶤˣ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ

The atmosphere changed, becoming more animated- like a black night beneath myriad burning stars, staring into the billowing rays of a dancing aurora of ‘living’ visceral blackness and writhing phantasmal holocaust. Upon the heights of an immense plateau sat a black citadel of wicked design, a central spire of dull ebony dominated the weird structure, whose architecture was like none had ever laid witness to, even the most widely travelled voyager outside the first of the wombs, and the darkest of the deepest tapestries.

Ziggurats, pyramids, and faceted domes of unpolished black stone rose toward the raging sun like a scar of pestilence. Great black gates swing slowly open, while a host of blinded and cloaked figures walked in solemn procession over the far lip of the plateau and stumbled one by one into the gaping maw of darkness, like rotted pilgrims entering the halls of salvation. Never-ending. Hot breezes bore the sounds from beyond distant dunes, something that sounded more like screams from perishing stars and suffocating suns.

Power was nothing but a gesture in the face of it as the chants of the soon to be dead sung with the dying stars, "Focarakk kraavark, ovodam! Oir ruirk uk mesrs roqa suma, omd sodam aeuir dordaks kaork, omd raks aeui rara, omd sra Sim es kremak ku craor!" ["Faceless sleepers, awaken! Our hours of night have gone, and taken your darkest fears, and left you here, and the Sun it shines so clear!"]

Melanoid was the ascending disc, looming over the charred onyx obelisks. Its shadowy mass reminiscent to obsidian wings creeping towards the pit of the dedicates, and the darkness that existed within its chasms, revealing with it, sentient tides of darkness. It’s solar orb, swollen and bloated as if the suckled blood of  sacrificial offertories  were its hapless prey beneath the starless choking sky. Throngs of screaming multitudes scooped in vast clawed hands, deposited in the gaping maw of a vast, gargantuan mass.

Monolithic claws plucked each life, meager morsels given yet bore no true gratification, the primordial hunger would never know any definition of. Great, black, onyx-like eyes gazed over its dominion with an ephemeral gulf-spawned rapaciousness as they were devoured. Squatting corpulent over the nebulous veils of the galaxy, horrid tongue spilling hungrily from its vast maw and lifting the forms of god, kings and priests alike to its numberless maws.

© Dyshanka 1997-2016