Whispers of the Universe

Thomas dreamt of the moon Previous

It had been a long time since Soma had witnessed such a gathering of luminaries. He’d forgotten how loud and angry these things could get. His fellow Celestials were a capricious lot, prone to anger and filled with pride, forever squabbling over petty positions of authority. Needless to say, a gathering of the planets was never bereft of event. The Sun usually settled such disputes, but he had been growing ever more lethargic as his hibernation period came nearer. When Jupiter and Ceres the Younger had begun an argument over some ancient territorial dispute, with no sign of the Sun showing any interest in pronouncing judgment, Soma had lost all hope of ever seeing this conclave bear fruit — but then out of nowhere came hope from an unexpected source. Just beyond the entrance portal stood an old blindfolded celestial, whispering into the gatekeeper’s ear.

What was he doing here? Saturn never showed up to these things.

“Lord Saturn,” the gatekeeper announced in a sonorous voice that travelled through the hall, “Gaoler of Time, Ultimate Arbiter of Justice within our star system, Disciple of the Lord of our Galaxy, and loyal Liegeman of Mars.”

Soma spat out his drink. Liegeman of Mars! Was this a joke?
“Lord Mars,” the gatekeeper announced soon after, ignoring the suddenly frigid atmosphere within the chamber with superb professionalism, “Who would rather be known to all by his present actions than by past titles.”

Mars looked as handsome and resplendent as he had been during the prime of his youth. He wore his golden chest plate and carried his spear of cosmic wind. A sword was strapped on to either side of his waist, and the Bow of the Galaxy, made of starlight, hung from his shoulders. His quiver contained dragons crafted of light and shadow, fire and ice, their breath effusing a myriad of colours in the sparsely lit chamber. Even Venus, nonplussed by things that could turn even Jupiter pale, would have felt weak at the knees at the sight of this new Mars… if she were here.

Here, exalted rather than diminished after millennia of exile, stood the being who had defeated Tiamat, Taraka and Quingu, he who had bent the cosmic winds around the tip of his spear, he who had captured entire stars in his net during the First War, he who had been fostered by the Seven Sisters to revitalize hope for the gods of mortals. Looking at him now, it was easy for Soma to forgive and forget all his past misdeeds. Soma had always admired the young red planet, even after he’d gone astray and become barren and decrepit. However, the others in the chamber were not as forgiving as he was. Their hatred for Mars ran deep.
Jupiter growled, “What are you doing here? Weren’t you exiled after your damn people ruined the entire bloody System?”

Mars ignored him, pushing past Jupiter and Ceres the Younger to bow before the Sun. “Dear Uncle, it has been a long time since we last met. How are you?”
The Sun shrugged, gauging Mars through sleep ridden eyes, “Almost time for my nap. I hope you’ll be able to manage things here for a while, without killing everyone. It’s such a pain to find the planetary archetypes these days and reconstitute them. Ah, if only immortality was as simple a thing as the humans made it out to be.” The Sun gave a last meaningful glance at Mars’ bow and quiver, and then went back to his throne.

There was a moment of absolute silence in the chamber as every eye appraised Mars, assessing his might, and especially his new bow. Soma decided to take advantage of this momentary respite from the cacophony, “Dear friends, there is a matter of urgent importance that needs to be discussed,” he said. “A dire event threatens to engulf our…”

“Mars, damn you,” Jupiter yelled, not hearing a single syllable Soma uttered. “What manner of trickery did you use to compel Saturn to serve you. Set him free or I swear I’ll crush you, even if the effort kills me. And why the hell are you here anyway? Nobody wants you here!”

Soma ground his teeth. He’d finally managed to get himself heard, and they were just completely ignoring him? What did he have to do to get himself heard?

Mars nodded seriously, “A most deceitful trick indeed, but a simple one. I asked Saturn, and he agreed. I’ll duel you anytime you like old one, but,” Mars glanced at Soma and nodded, “not now. Let us hear what my pale uncle has to say before he grows paler still and blinds us all with his intensity. I suspect that he might have come here for the same reason I have.”

All attention in the chamber turned to Soma. He’d prepared a neat little speech, addressing each one by name along with their numerous epithets, but after trying to edge a word in unsuccessfully for the past three hours he’d finally had enough. “You damn fools, sitting here and arguing over your trivialities,” the usually soft and tranquil Soma shouted, “the Tree of Ash has begun to bloom on Earth, devouring Life and twisting souls. Venus tried to destroy it, but was injured by it instead and is recovering by the Throne of Ceres the Elder (A/N: henceforth called Demeter to avoid any confusion). Trivia has been sealed within its trunk, and her powers have increased the tree’s destructive power exponentially. My light is powerless against it, even my most destructive tides only serve to fertilize its growth, and soon it will be large enough to engulf all life and turn first the planet of Demeter and then our entire Star System into ash.”
Mars grunted, “I confirm this. The Tree of Ash is a threat that we have no hope of defeating without cooperation. The Lord of our Galaxy warned me of this threat two solar cycles ago, and gave birth to me anew so that I may help you in burning down this noxious tree before it’s too late. Its sickness has already taken root within the souls of man. A long time ago you rode your chariots behind my banner. Will you do so again, or will you allow yourself to be consumed by the ash that consumes all?”

Saturn walked across the room and stood behind Mars, undoing his blindfold. Soma followed, meeting Saturn’s gaze without fear. The Sun followed next, smiling absently as he met the mesmerizing eyes of Saturn. Pluto went next, the Lord of the Underworld, ever quiet and mysterious, the gaze of Saturn’s strange multi-coloured eyes not fazing his stride in the slightest. The others reluctantly followed suit, some shuddering under the harsh glare of the Lord of Justice.

“Then off we go to burn a tree of ash,” Mars whooped gleefully.

***********

Callista dreamt of her goddess

Trivia sang….

The moon dreamt…

Thomas lay on the sofa, visions of ice and death cascading before his mind’s eye, coalescing and dissociating to the tempo of his randomized playlist. Beethoven and Debussy had brought images of soft blue ice and barren landscape, Holst had ushered in rains of fire, Dvorak had seen the last remnants of humanity struggling for survival under a sunless sky, and Chopin had brought a ray of sunshine. The AVR then began blasting the guttural roars of Amon Amarth, the roars of marauding heavy metal vikings breaking Thomas out of his stupor, the clash of steel sending his heart racing.

It took a while for his mind to get used to the world outside the dream– to the dew coalescing on his window that blurred his view of the Golden Gate Bridge, to the soft light of dawn, to the smell of coffee that was permeating his little studio apartment, to his stomach that was growling to be fed– it took a while to fully wake up to a new reality.

What was wrong with him, he wondered as he poured himself another cup of coffee and placed two slices of bread in the toaster. Why were his dreams becoming so damn weird? Were they just dreams, or was the apocalypse really coming? The humming birds, that usually came around this time of year, were missing. The sun looked bigger than it should have, and paler somehow. The clouds looked stranger than they used to– like dragons flying through the sky.

There was a knock at his door, a sharp rat-a-tat-tat. He’d have known that knock anywhere.

“John,” he smiled, as he opened the door, “glad you came today. I need a ride.”

“Oh, just buy a Clipper card already, you cheap bastard,” his brother said with annoyance. He was dressed for a meeting, looking sharp in a suit that was creased in all the right places. He’d even put on a lapel pin, which meant he was hoping to bag some baby boomer big wigs today.

“Clipper? You’d stop visiting me if I started using public transport. Could I borrow a twenty? I’m a little short today.”

John shook his head, quoting the only Shakespeare he knew, “Neither a borrower nor a lender be. I don’t want to dull the edge of your husbandry.”

“My husbandry?” Thomas asked, feigning shock. John’s presence always made Thomas cheer up. Maybe John would be able to help with the weird dreams, but Thomas was reticent about sharing the experience. It was scary, and made him sound like a mad man.

“What’s up, little man?” asked John, sensing the change in his mood.

“What if you knew that the world was going to end? That meteors were going to fall from the sky, the sky was going to be so thick with clouds that they wouldn’t let in the sunlight, nuclear winter, and stuff like that. All our money would be pretty darn useless then, wouldn’t it? All our jobs and infrastructure wouldn’t mean a thing. Civilization would be in complete collapse. What would people like you or me do in a world like that, a financial analyst and a history major?”

“Well,” John closed his eyes in thought, wincing through closed lids as Thomas chomped on his burnt toast, “we’d be dead meat if that was all we were. Humans adapt, don’t they? Tell you what, once you’re done with this semester let’s take a vacation to Canada and muck around in the wilderness and learn some survival skills. That would cheer us both up, eh?”

“Eh,” Thomas agreed.

A humming bird flew past his window.

*******************************

The digital witch liked and shared…

Callie caressed the cheek of her muse as she hummed a song. Her inspiration, trapped in the laminate of her wardrobe, gazed back at her through sad and wide eyes that were glazed with speckles of plywood.
“A thousand subscribers in a day,” Callie crooned to her muse. “Thank you, dear one.”
She heard footsteps outside her door, the hard thuds of her mother. “Eat your breakfast,” her mother yelled, with a token preamble of knocking followed by a harsh and forceful dislodgement of her door. Talk about an invasion of private space. Her mother could have taught the Nazis a few things or two about the Blitzkrieg with those moves. It was about time Callie got her door’s lock fixed. “Your bus will be here any minute,” Callie’s mother continued her spitfire attack, her tapping foot heralding the coming of artillery fire. “I’ve never seen a girl as scatter brained as you. Now stop staring into space like a dolt and get moving.”

Callie rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t she wake up to birdsong every morning, and begin the day in peace and harmony?

“Okay Mom, I’m coming. You may take your leave.”

Her mother bobbed a mock curtsey and left, thank the Goddess for small miracles. Callie checked her feed one last time. Her subscribers had gone up by fifty within as many minutes, and her poetry recital video had gone up by a thousand views. How long would this magic last? This would buy her coven two months of premium service on HecatAPP, at least. She blew her trapped muse one last kiss and left the room.

Whispers of the Universe

The Autumn Arc – Night One (Part One)

The Autumn Arc – Day 1