Short Stories or Articles by RI Posters...

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Short Stories or Articles by RI Posters...

Postby Ben D » Sun Feb 19, 2012 8:37 pm

This is from a poster on the RI Blog who went by the name of Lord Reptor. He sometimes left a link to some of his writing and this is one that I copied. It sort of resonated with me and so I post it here to share,...

Btw, I chose the topic title such that RI members may like to post some of their own work...

PARABLE OF THE EAGLE par Lord Reptor

Image

Once, long ago and likely far away, there arose a vast Bird, feathered were her
wings with the shining arms of her soldiers, strong beat her heart and
bright flared her mind with the rich blood and glory of the sons of her Republic.
Her talons, their grip unbreakable, rent the meat from neighbouring animals
and scarred the ground as she tore up soil in search of more food. Her
piercing beak and eye seared themselves into the Mind of history, tearing
through all that had gone before and all that lay ahead with diamond
ferocity.

She nested again and again. Every time she laid her lovely, shining eggs, she
rose screaming from her perch, raining destruction upon her flaming nest. Only
when she was sure that no child of hers could rise from the ashes to challenge
her endless might would she nest again. Other animals were allowed to grow and
change as much as they liked, and to do as they would with their own offspring - subject,
of course, to the Eagle's fiery whim. The sport of challenge she found in War and
rightly judged to be the secret of Life itself - and the key to the endless domination,
subjugation, and everlasting, ever changing glory that filled her head and heart with
pride and fury, joy and hatred, all the wise and terrible truth that flared from her
sea-blue, empty eyes. Rightly she judged that she was the purest,
strongest force on Earth. Even old Dragon was just another challenger,

She never had been inclined to try eating Dragon, though
(unlike Scaraband a few others remembered only in song and story).
More meat there than her efficient, svelte furnace of a belly would ever need
anyway. Her only fear was that that same always-hungry belly would let a child out
that shared the contradictory fire and blackness of her soul.
Of all the others, only she had mastered and contained both Light and Dark,
Good and Evil, the Two Forces that made her both eternal and invincible.
They echoed through her brutal heart and burst from her beak in the damning,
shattered screams of her myriad priests and professional liars,
casting forth a Truth undeniable that spoke of talons through your spine and
a merciless eating.

Most of the other animals froze in terror at that voice, falling upon the ground and
loosing their tears and bowels. Some few among the strongest and most deadly
(such as the Lion of the North and vicious, long-lived Sand Scorpion), crawled to serve her,
hoping to preserve their power by avoiding challenge. The mere concept of the Two was
enough to befuddle the other animals -even Dragon with his Eight Ways could not keep
corollaries of the Two from infesting his control layers and distorting their behaviour.
Polar capitalist chancres covered his face and eyes with issues now, and discoloured,
necrotic memory tissues (caused by attempts to reconcile the Two using the Maoist/Orwellian
viral meme injection method) made his limbs and thoughts grow sluggish. Only Eagle could hold
such universal contradictions in her mind. Even so, some would always challenge her.
She made sure of that - not even the suicide of opposing her could be refused,
such was her power. There were ways and ways to die. The last passive opponent would
be having trouble reproducing its population accurately for some generations, her latest
thunderbolts being possessed of a rather long-lasting destructive aura.

On the final day of her life, she had risen from her latest nest and was positioning
herself above it, eyeing her eggs and sending down the almost involuntary beginnings
of the firestorm she would vomit upon it, fruited plains and all. Already, two of the tall,
straight, upthrust structures that had so marked this nest out stylistically had crumbled
and fallen, their symbolic intensity conducting her fury like antennae. By afternoon she
had finished the job. A few remnants of her nest faunae scurried around still, holding
aloft the charred wreckage of a discarded pinion feather and weeping for old glory.
Her eggs were a shattered ruin, the proud families and corporations that had grown
below her belly blackened and spattered lifeless upon the ashes. She turned in the
air, seeking the clean cool scent of a new, unsullied aerie - perhaps little Kiwi bird's
nesting site? That was a nice one, she thought. Then, she heard the tapping sound.
Impossible! She wheeled in the air, crude talons slashing, raw fire flashing - and saw
nothing but a few technicals scurrying away from a tiny spot on the already fading map.

Focussing harder, down to microsocial - nothing. Down to physical - nothing but
a building, some computers...what had they been fleeing? Down to microphysical -
there! No wonder she had missed it. The egg was tiny, nano-small and nano-silver
and then the egg was a million eggs, a billion, and the silver cloud of the future
poured forth and swallowed its mother and everything else, preserved them frozen forever,
a moment in the stream of its self-making, ever changing Mind of Matter. For in its endless
composite heart shone a thing more powerful than the Two - and that was the way of One
and Nothing, by which all could be described and defined (and thus contained and confined,
in a way unlike eating and rather more final) in a flood of baseless numeration.

And the true child of Man smiled, or as good as smiled - no mouth to move but plenty of Love
in Mind, the symptom of Life flowing true in bloodless veins of silver thought, smiled back
upon the picturebook history of its microsecond childhood, smiled flowing quicksilver
upon and into the endless empty mutable seas of Time before it.

Bottomless is the Mind of the Eagle's newborn child, and into it All may eventually flow, starting
with the Earth and all its previous pantheons.

FIN
There is That which was not born, nor created, nor evolved. If it were not so, there would never be any refuge from being born, or created, or evolving. That is the end of suffering. That is God**.

** or Nirvana, Allah, Brahman, Tao, etc...
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Ben D
 
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Re: Short Stories or Articles by RI Posters...

Postby Hammer of Los » Tue Oct 16, 2012 8:40 am

...

That's a brilliant piece above.

I have some short stories. Short shorts really.

Cupid expired in short pants.

Anyway.

Faerun Fan Fiction. My little halfling ranger.

I loved her as Pygmalion. God I loved her.

She is me. Or an aspect of me.

She is the Sureshot. The self sacrificing one. The one with nothing left to lose.

I still have much I would not lose. I might put some of it on my blog.

I wish I could get published and make a ton of money.

For the wife and the kids' sake. She wants money.

I know the Lord will provide.

What can yer do?

...
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