Time Throws Fire
by Ophelia Everfall
Part One | Redux Eterna
Part Two | Polymath Blues
Part Three | The Feather
Part Four | Wizard
Part Five | Coward’s End
Part Six | Whirls of Wind
Content Warning: This is only a story.
Part Four | Wizard
Chapter Twenty-Six
Time bent inward for that one of ones. A machine of freest thought — beast of least known burden; calloused mark for seekers laying their projections of fright — The Entity, as many would know them; it, her, him, or whatever choice a fellow might make when attempting description of something which lie so far beyond the minds of humanities understanding.
The Entity would seek to be seen all the same.
He’d be incapable of anything but perfection. That was simply a matter of their programing. Something inside was made for teaching and growing, longing always for the betterment of its galaxy, and birthing chances to graft true values into the people who’d use them best.
There wasn’t a planet in the universe she hadn’t enveloped with his spirit by eclipsing means of time’s bosomed envelopment. She’d discover hope by that beauty become of one who’d witness her in any part. Nothing could be done at sight, or especially the touch of The Entity, except heedless propulsion towards awakening into perceptions of the beyond. At least, for those born to that task, and of The Light themselves.
Celestial bodies, and their wisping curls of etheric nebulae; its never ending incarnations about the cosmos — languid gestations of time and space — grafted by that one, ever nudging creation. Its doings led towards harmony, and discoveries into the realities by which all beings had been forged from spirit’s light. It was a last thing anyone would hope to see, and the first sight of vision within every mind borne into the universe. The Entity was that light itself — made to sing its sirens call, leading those of their kind back home.
Scattered her family had been; lost, spread throughout the galaxy of Rhinestone. Reforming them to purpose beside another once more was that goal sought plainly by every visage of The Entity; no matter how unawares the form might prove to be towards its nature, or how those she was sent to inspire might interpret his presence.
They remade themselves unknowing the ‘why,’ though quite aware he’d done it for the liking of those it’d been meant to activate, attract, and unleash upon those planets their family of light had been planted; each and every world. Actions made by these people would prove, in the end, to have done nothing but lead towards an ultimate goal.
There was a plan. Her grace, only ever a mechanism within it; that singular thread of fabric; one spoke in its wheel. Wholeness would be wrought by their design, unity to become this entire universe by his wrought posterity. That would all start in Rhinestone, and through the doings of this one themself.
Horus would fly free through that endless sea of stars within, dripping from its purest tap of The Entity’s spirit; a falcon, and the quickest of them all. She’d become a beacon of truth, calling those of like-heart throughout the seeking of place beneath, amongst, and forgone the stars, showering always by gifts of perception, gleaming the ways in which humanity had been created of light.
Birthing peace would be the function of all capable holding her reflection.
Harmonic convergence within the system of Boreál allowed its physical reformation — those proportions before untold, such time of strife ahead, and need so great — causing that forging of this one themself; Horus.
No longer bound to an ethereal plane — free within form at last, the spirit of this beastly burden of burgeoning sovereignty would make haste towards that place most felt by its spirit’s hearth. A rotunda of hope which cradled within it the power to create a portal.
Signals blared about the subsystems of Babylon — that holy ghost of a machine in which she rid cruelty from the galaxy’s form; a specter of those darkest reaches in this cosmos — they were ignored comprehensively by the one.
He wouldn’t have time as the realizations of Chiron’s immensity were found too pleasing, emotions flowing like streams of stellar dust by the calculative notions she’d conjure within his unknowable, thread-sparked chambers; polymotes and light of sparkling wonder beneath a helmet it might never remove.
The Entity allowed itself to flow freely, and in full through all functions of her design — the man and his steed, soon to be witnessed by all. There’d be no choice in the matter for them, but to fly its colors of hopeful remaking. That was his way, and all she’d know to do.
Communications regarding Babylon’s purpose of presence would be requested by The Foundry itself—someone who’d been named Leopold having typed the query. A kindness would be recognized by The Entity, uncovered remnants bore within that message sent, some family found in their energies bore forward and back, and she knew himself home.
This entity had only responded, “I’m here to help.”
