Lady of 10,00 names

2006-12-22T15:24:36+01:00

It was lost. No one could find It, and hadn’t been able to for what It calculated to be roughly 312 earthy years. It didn’t even know where It was or how it had got there.

It was currently wading through some sort of rainforest: only that word makes you think of a world teaming with life and colour, of exotic flowers covering the forest floor, birds with plumage to rival the brightest rainbow and the cheerful chattering of monkeys filling the air. The rainforest that It was trying to find a way out of was nothing like that. In Its forest death reigned supreme, the prince of this land was darkness and the lord and lady of Suffering were in royal favour.

The place was not devoid of life; creatures of the endless night thrived, anything that was cruel, viscous and savoured the taste of human flesh were more than welcomed to dwell in the hollows of black-hearted trees, or in the thorny undergrowth. The brightest thing in the tree-tops were the couatls, bright green plumed serpents with fiery red eyes that pierced through the darkness with malicious intent. On ground level the only colour other than a murky browns, deathly greys, purest black and a dark mossy green were the red tipped darts of the maticores deadly tail.

Before It had stumbled into this life-draining nature reserve, It had scrambled and climbed over mountains that seemed to alternate in being carved of cold, sharp glass and purest hematite with the magnetic power to drag planes down from the sky. The glassy ridges were home to the foul-smelling harpies that picked and spat at the souls of suicides as they tried desperately to escape the circle of filthy bird women. On the black slopes lived the giant eagle-like rocs that swoop towards the ground to catch helpless animals and drop them to their deaths on the jagged rocks. They then drag the victims to their nests, built from bones and parts salvaged from plane crashes.

The farthest It could remember was travelling through an endless landscape of scorching sand, where fires sprung up everywhere, with no warning, bringing with them screaming tortured souls that writhe in the flames. Lakes of fire housed salamanders that excreted toxins that poisoned any clean water within thousands of miles. The deadly basilisk that prowled the dunes, withering any vegetation that dared to grow in it’s domain was the most striking thing to behold in this arid land. The yellow and black of its plumage and scales dazzled eyes used to the red glow of flames and embers.

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Oceansoul Wanderer

Lady of 10,00 names