The Way of the WorldForward! I say,
And go under!
Thou hast nothing else.
Forward! I say,
For thee awaits no destination,
For thee awaits no goal,
But forward thou must’st go –
Walk up to that looking-glass,
Gaze upon that there –
Let the flame of thy soul flare up,
Clench thy hands into claws
And tear that down –
Thou canst have nothing else –
From death’s gulf springs new birth,
As in the spring of the Earth!
I command thee,
Become what? Go under what?
Thou sayest, I make no sense!
There is no what in my maddened word-glut,
I say – I truly have no defense.
But my words, maddened though they be
Shall prove themselves – now thou just see!
But must’st thou reply, I do not know why,
“Just shut up and bite me?!”
VictoryThe armored boots of two warriors were planted feet from the edge of a cliff as they overlooked the land and saw a great black cloud sweep over hill and dale. The Earth was littered with the bodies of the dead as far as the eye could see, and wolves and ravens came to take the souls of the slain to the halls of the gods. The Sun was beginning her descent into the Underworld, and firey light shot up from underneath the Earth and accross the sky as she pierced the horizon.
“How many of ours were killed?”
“At least a few hundred.”
“That’s barely a victory.”
“Our people are safe in their houses and the slain go to the halls of the gods, never having to concern themselves with journeying accross the Abyss, except maybe after their next life or so. I’d call that a victory.”
Just hours ago, the Sun shone brightly and golden rays shimmered accross the edges of swords, the tips of spears, the faces of shields; their weapons flashed and
There Must Be OrderIn the region to the northwest of the empire of Galeym, there was a region of rugged hills and low mountains, transitioning into the high mountains, the White Mountains, that the Empire could not pass into, and these hills were known as the Pailti, or, regionally, as the Pailtz, which means “hills” in the language of Galeym, and in these hills were many villages that were not part of the Empire. It was a beautiful day in Spring, with the Sun peaking over the hills as birds twittered in the trees, and the villagers in Sohmk were at their work in the fields, which, being in the hills, were swiddens scattered here and there in gaps in the woods; generally, the people were of such a disposition that their work, no matter how hard, did not weigh them down, and they could be heard singing while they planted:
The fair Sun shines o’er all our fields
Which will soon a great harvest yield
The Earth’s reward for all our toil
On the Pailtz’s blesséd soil!
Sin and DeathI remember now, at that appointment, something I had not even noticed when I was there: a soft, guttural cackling, seeping out from the bowels of the Earth, and I realize now I may have very well unwittingly sold my soul.
“Have you had any thoughts of killing yourself recently?” asked the psychiatrist.
“Yes.” I hadn’t, but if I said yes, I would have my parents under my thumb; no more fighting, no more being called “bitch” or “dumbass”, no more being backed into corners and grabbed and pushed and hit. They would have to feel sorry for me instead of hurting me, they would have no choice if they wanted me to live so they could go on hurting me, or so they thought – so I thought. I’d have to take meds, but that’s really the worst that could happen.
No, it wasn’t.
I don’t remember how I got here, I don’t remember anything for a while before when I got here. Now they’re coming to make me take my