Across the white desert, the wind blew.
The shadows crossed the peaks of the dunes and motion was lost among them. I felt the sweat under my shirt begin to turn to a chill. The reflected light of a thousand billion galaxies shown down upon me. The cold dark gods watching impassively as they always do.
I stepped forward on the declination side of a white dune, fear wanting me to partake in its insidious grasp. I felt it slide over my mind, eel slippery probing and tasting. The want and abandon fear choking me in its grasp. The pounding taste of defeat before the battle had even begun. The oppressing place that feels like being crushed where you pray for the simple release of a good death.
I felt it.
I felt it all.
My pistol on my hip, a rifle in my hand, I had stopped moving. But neither the sand nor the skies above noted this. This strange planet of endless white sand simply continued to revolve around its sol as it had for a thousand billion years.
The daemons that danced in the shadows and sought your dreams noted it so. Looking for another place to dwell, I supposed. Thier fingers made of the lightest clouds that were visible only on the passage of sleep. A place to dwell and create the disturbances they sought. To replay their losses over and over again.
I started to move forward again. My sword lapped gently against my back as I walked. The blade forged in the heart of a star by the very gods themselves. Thrumming lightly, as if for the taste of blood. Be still my friend I thought, the time will come and soon. When blood will be spilled and wine drank without taste. In those moments, you will know. And it did.
I rested not, but continued to move forward. The sand gradually filling my boots, my pockets, in my beard and into my very lungs themselves. This white desert would own us all. There is no escape, no way back. Yesterday doesn’t exist anymore, just a faint memory and the morrow has not arrived yet. But one foot in front of the other, forward.
I could not have stopped any more than the planet could quit turning. For this is the only way.
Maybe in another time, in another place, Where green was as far as the eye could see, the rivers deep blue and cold. Maybe then once again.
Across the endlessness of the empty morrow, where we will all meet again.
Until that sacred moment, we continue forward. On hands and knees if need be. Weapons hot, sword hand free, destiny calling us forward. They will not stop us, nor slow down the progression. The white desert won’t allow it. The gods themselves twitter and faun, watching a story play out a thousand million ways over and over again across time.
I will take this feeling in my heart and turn it to edged steel. Each swing will bite deep and to bone. These daemons will own me not, nor their master. For I dwell in the dark, hidden among the ruins, my soul shattered from a million lives transgressions. They will know me not when I come for them.
And I will come…