The Epic of the Chaos Cube

By: Sylvance Posted on: July 30, 2012

The Epic of the Chaos Cube

(or 'Babel's Box?')

------ a fictional story by Sylvance deFleur --,'<@

~ ~ ~

Prologue

Two cities in two hearts, our opening state!

Whilst Sapient feuds find vent in lands abroad.

Two legends vie for one prize, dread and great:

A thing in which the world's future is stored.

Each champions a strict and certain cause,

Yet 'twixt their hearts much history is laid,

And thus they fight, but gradually give pause

And each reveals the toll he blindly paid.

Dark tragedy descends as harsh truth dawns:

Each man, ensnared within his strongest flaw,

Is but a playing piece, a fleshly pawn,

Within a game begun in Chaos and War.

No good e'er comes from the choices we make

When we compete for competition's sake.

~ ~ ~

First Movement (wherein cities collide within brothers)

Steel kissed steel once and again in a merciless exchange of flurries, but finally the two broke apart, each breathing heavily.

The Throne Room was forty paces in each direction, with a raised dais at the far end. Twelve worn pillars reached decrepitly towards a crumbling ceiling that was lost in darkness, some still showing the precise lettering of the ancient Achaean language. Even amidst the dust and rubble, silver and gold lay about, forgotten for an age, plentiful enough to rival the Merchants of the Crown should either choose to loot the place, yet neither man was here for gold. Fearsome gargoyles in the Meropian style snarled down at the pair of them, bearing witness to the duel, seemingly brought to life by the shifting light of Pentrys' firefly tattoo, a halo around his fullplate. At another time, the scene might have been thrilling, foreboding or romantic. Now the atavian scarce noticed it. In all the world there was just him and Tobyn, who folks styled the Dark Paragon, and the pedestal that stood seventeen short steps away from them, bearing the prize before the twin thrones.

Struggling to give no sign of weakness to his foe, Pentrys the Twice-Blessed held the tip of his runeblade steadily pointing at the other's eyes.

"Last chance, Tobyn. Leave now, or die; I swear it before the Te'Serra; I swear it as Caliph."

The Dark Paragon's feathers were as black as Pentrys' were white, a sad reflection of what festered in his soul. "Tell me, Pen, does that golden collar around your neck make it difficult to breathe?"

"No more than the darkness that consumes you makes it impossible to see."

They circled warily, each appraising the other. Pentrys knew his opponent's every trick, but still nothing good would come of underestimating him. In every way they were evenly matched; the slightest thing would tip this one way or the other. Even in the split second that the Twice-Blessed glanced over at the pedestal, Tobyn drew Unsurpassed Darkness and sent a precise slash at his leading arm, which he barely parried in time.

"So, how did you find me, here in Meropis?" Pentrys asked with an insouciance he certainly did not feel. "At least tell me that." Even now, with his life's work approaching its climax, the question that he himself had asked drew his mind towards the sack that hung ungainly from his duffel. Biting his lip, he tore his thoughts away from its contents and kept himself focused on the Blademaster before him.

The Dark Paragon shrugged, hand resting easily on the ruby pommel of his blade, which once again was sheathed. With a bemused grunt, he ruffled his wingfeathers quickly and then smoothed them again. "Stall all you want, Pen. The Chaos Cube will be mine, and when I open it Oblivion will come. Such has it been spake. Go home to your second-hand wife and enjoy what little time this world has left. Go, flutter back across the water to Sapience and see her, embrace her and gaze into eyes as blue as Vastar's greatest gift. Lose yourself in her breasts, brother; run your soft hands through hair like silk, as green as anything the Aalen could offer. Enjoy life, for soon all is ended."

"Do not call me 'brother'. What separates us is far greater than the womb we shared."

"Which one is that, my Twice-Blessed brother? Mother's? Or Marlyn's?"

Anger flared in him, that decades-old image of them returning to his helpless mind, and with a cry of anger he came at his brother with a whittling combination, but strike and thrust were turned aside in the hypnotic rhythm of draw, parry, sheathe, draw, parry, sheathe. With an impotent cry he brought the runeblade swinging over his head and-

In a black burst feathers, Tobyn was gone, and the Twice-Blessed spent the cleaving blow on the ground in a shower of sparks and suddenly-frozen debris. A tiny chuckle from behind him as the Dark Paragon landed softly on the ground once more, hand resting easily on his pommel.

For the first time since Tobyn's arrival, Pentrys noticed the hefty kitbag his brother was wearing, in addition to his usual artefact pack. Something about the way his brother wore it, as if it were as heavy as Sapience itself, sent a chill down his spine, and once again he thought of the sack that he himself wore. "What's in the bag, Tob...? What have you done?"

"I paid the toll, brother. And now the Chaos Cube will be mine."

~ ~ ~

Second Movement (wherein Tobyn's Tale is spun)

The Crystal Leaf Inn had been a-buzz with talk of the upcoming 600AF celebrations. A low ceiling of smoke mingled with the bittersweet smells of sweat and ale, all to the accompaniment of a frustratingly good string quartet come down from Ty Beirdd to grace the stage. Mingled with the roaring, fragrant music of the famous shell-strewn hearth, it was an honest smell, and a cheerful sound for a generally honest and cheerful establishment. Pentrys sat in a booth by himself, receiving a wide berth from everybody who heeded the cry that escaped Lord Thoth each time an adventurer was sent to His realm. The gaeity went on all around him, and an uncharacteristic smile sat upon the Blademaster's lips.

Some hoof-and-horn fool had dared to brush past him when he'd entered, and the entire Inn had gone quiet, and cactus weed was hastily emptied from a hundred pipes and replaced with skullcap. But even that had not been enough to goad him into drawing steel. The recent news that he had beaten Pentrys in the rankings still rang proud in his ears, so rather than transforming the cloven-footed Jester into the world's least amusing corpse, the Dark Paragon had ordered that food and drink be bought for everybody present at the Inn.

An hour later he was in his booth, watching the drunken festivities around him. Watching the hypocritical joy of life only made the knowledge that it would all soon be extinguished that much sweeter. A movement brought his hand to Unsurpassed Darkness, but he did not draw it. Why spoil such a perfect moment? Besides, it was far more deadly in its sheath...

"Good evening," said the buxom siren who had seated herself opposite him.

Tobyn stared at her implaccably for a full minute, seriously considering the merits of removing her impertinent head from her shoulders. Two sleights in a single evening were challenging his good cheer. "You have two heartbeats, maybe three, to remove yourself from within the reach of my blade, woman."

"And you've as little time to convince me to give up the location of the Chaos Cube."

He blinked. "I've no clue what you are talking about."

"Then I apologise for wasting your ti-" she began, rising to leave.

With the tiniest shove, he pushed the table towards her, knocking her easily back into her seat. "You will probably be dead in five minutes. That artefact is nothing more than a legend... yet the fact that you know I am looking for it bodes ill for you. Tell me everything and I may make it swift."

"It's in Meropis. Here is a map to the ruins. But there is more: Pentrys has a full day's head start, but he's taking the land bridge. The runes on the map will give you the key you will need to open it. So, will you waste precious time chasing me, Dark Paragon, whilst your brother heads towards an achievement that will make the combat rankings pale to nothing? Or will you leave now and maybe catch him?"

~ ~ ~

Third Movement (wherein a similar tale is told in brief)

A single tear trickled down Pentrys' cheek. "The key?" he asked.

Tobyn clenched his jaw. "I did whatever was needed. The Seven Truths are seared into the hearts of every true Mhaldorian, brother; this is no longer needed." He switched his stance again, patted the kitbag.

"You stole the sacred tablet, writ by the very hand of Sartan. Didn't you? You took the greatest and most sacred treasure of your House? You fool, Tob... you treacherous fool."

"I will bring them something far greater in return: The gift of Oblivion."

"You'll be hated and hunted from one end of Sapience to the other. And spout what you will about Oblivion; you loved them. They took you in despite your mad obsessions, they-"

"She told me I would need it!" Tobyn screamed, stepping forward with rage in his every feature. "She told me that I could only gain the Cube if I-"

"Sacrificed the most precious thing you had," Pentrys finished sadly. "And for you it was your membership within the Maldaathi, the only family you have really ever known. They, who took you in despite your being a Nihilist."

"How... how do you know what she said?" Tobyn breathed.

With a flick of his wrist, the Caliph unclasped the sack at his belt and let its contents tumble out and roll towards his brother's feet. Tobyn gasped, his mouth an O, as his eyes unbelievingly took in the sight: a human head, full with matted hair once as soft as silk, that was still as green as anything the Aalen could offer; eyes that, even open in frozen, silent horror were as blue as Vastar's greatest gift...

"I know..." Pentrys whispered, "because she told me the same thing."

~ ~ ~

Fourth Movement (wherein truths are told, and twins face their greatest test)

"We've been played, Tobyn," Pentrys finally said. His blade clattered to the ground, then he fell to his knees. "What have I done?"

"You killed her... you bastard!" roared the Dark Paragon, hand flying to his hilt and-

A movement, from the arched door that was the sole entrance to the room, and the brothers turned towards it as a third figure sashayed into the light. A siren, as beautiful as any creature ever was, her every movement a study in allure... except for that wicked smile. "You have done well, boys. You have broken the seal upon this place."

"You!" the atavian twins screamed, united in indignation. "You made me kill Marlyn!" the Twice-Blessed moaned. "You lied to us!" hissed Tobyn.

"You lied to yourselves," she chuckled easily, sauntering towards them. "I told you that you must sacrifice your most precious thing before it could be yours. You imagined, Tobyn, that that was your House. Pentrys, you thought it was Marlyn, who, for love, you stole from your brother's bed. It is not. The thing you each treasure most is your rivalry. It is what has driven you your whole lives. It has been your motivation, your pleasure and your pain. So if you want truth... here it is. Give up your rivalry. Surrender this foolish spirit of competition. Whichever of you sheathes his weapon and allows the other to take the artefact... he himself will own it. That is the final riddle."

The Dark Paragon spit contemptuously, flexing his sword hand dangerously upon the ruby pommel. "How can you know that?"

"Because..." the siren said... features shifting... "The prize does not actually belong to Lord Babel. It is Mine."

Where a curvaceous beauty had stood just moments before, a preternaturally youthful figure now hovered a full pace clear of the ruin floor, Her dimples, ebon curls and perky nose silently decrying the doom of those beholding it. The coy smile was replaced by a wicked grin that held humour and menace in equal portions, and the scintillating rainbow lock at Her brow was simply entrancing. But nothing screamed Her identity louder than the mercurial, fluid silver of Her right hand.

"Pandora," the brothers gasped in unison.

"Indeed," She giggled, turning a tittering somersault. "For centuries I have tried to get into this place, to retrieve My Box, which the Logos hid away in this chamber, then sealed it off such that it could not be found until both Darkness and Light sought it. By virtue of coming to this place, you opened the way for Me. Yet a single seal remains, for he that wants Pandora's Box cannot open it. It has been spake. I say again: Whichever of you will stand down, he himself shall have it."

The twins looked at one another, then looked at the large, black cube that rested on the pedestal, somehow looking playfully enticing despite all that was going on around it. Sapience held its breath as each man weighed up all that he had sacrificed for what he'd believed to be the Chaos Cube, all that he had struggled and endured. The Twice-Blessed looked on it and saw the end of Babel, Whose followers would leave Him when the key to their insane mission was denied them once and for all. For the Dark Paragon, the Cube still represented the end of all things. The end of an existence of ceaseless futility. The end of the messiness of creation. The end of pain.

Each of them gazed upon it a time longer. Then they flew at one another and did the act of blood.

Pentrys slapped his shield tattoo at the last possible moment, using its protection to snatch up his fallen sword, and then they came together in earnest. Their blades moved quicker than was possible, and with more force, and when the ground could no longer contain their fury they took to the air and continued the duel until finally neither had any more to give. They landed, panting, bleeding, cursing, trembling with exertion.

"Last chance... to leave, Pen," Tobyn managed as his eyes flickered over the rivulets of blood that coarsed down his brother's arms.

Pentrys seriously considered it. His blade began to lower... then stopped. "No, Tobyn, my dark brother. Even if I believed Her words... We have each come too far to lose. It ends now."

They charged at one another, their warcries filling the Throne Room. Batting aside his brother's storied blade with a mighty roar, Pentrys shouldered him to the ground, then thrust his runeblade into the Blademaster's prone body, impaling him. With a savage snarl, he jerked a crimson path through his Tobyn's innards, watching the wound freeze shut in its wake as the hugaluz rune sucked the very warmth from his core. With a grunt, he withdrew the steaming, dripping, freezing blade.

Turning crisply on his heel, he took a step towards Pandora with bloody murder in his eyes. "And now, a duel I cannot win. But I will spill a drop of whatever flows in Your veins."

"One day, brother," Tobyn coughed wetly from behind him, "you will learn to check for Starbursts." The Twice-Blessed turned, just in time to see Unsurpassing Darkness burn with a fierce, argent light, then gasped as Tobyn stepped to the side and slashed with four precise strikes, the flashing hum of steel weaving around him.

Confusion touched the Twice-Blessed's face as the Dark Paragon sheathed his fabled blade for the last time, then fell lifeless to the ground as his bleeding overcame him.

"Tobyn... you... missed?" Pentrys asked disbelieving, then turned to Pandora and glanced askance. Yet even that tiny movement was enough to upset the perilous balance that was all that held him together, and his fragmented body fell to the ground in belated subjugation by Unsurpassed Darkness.

~ ~ ~

Fifth Movement (wherein Pandora soliloquizes in close)

A quizzical smile rested on the Divine's lips as She cast an easy gaze over the fallen brothers. With a few unhurried steps the Goddess reached the pedestal, lifting the Box from it with scarce-contained triumph and holding it aloft. She could not open it, not yet, burning with desire for it as She did... but now She had it. The rest would come in time, somehow.

Tucking the Box under one arm, Pandora beheld the scene around Her once more before speaking:

"Truly are mortals risibly deceived

(Moreso when drawn by ambition or greed),

Yet not by Me: each fool his heart believes!

Simplicity achieves the greatest deeds.

Like ants in swarm you fill the world We made,

Yet, curiously, you each toil unique

And thus never shall I tire of pranks played

That show folly in structures rigid and weak.

You entertained, then died. Now, that aside:

What once was taken's now returned to Me,

And, soon, so soon!, I'll have what's locked inside.

And then mischief unparalleled They'll see!

See malice if you will, this truth remains:

Doom is the prize of folks too strict to change."

Stepping back into the shadows, Pandora melted from view and was gone. For the next month, a series of increasingly unlikely events rocked Sapience's organisations, yet on the whole very few folks realised that a whole new chapter in Achaea's tale had just begun.

FIN