DIVA: Anakh the Jackal-God and the First Man DOUBLE ISSUE! #1/#2
deucexm at gmail.com
Sun Dec 7 19:24:24 PST 2014
It's a special double issue because that's all I have written and it's convenient to smash it into a single thread for commentary on the whole, since I don't have any more written yet.
I'll save the second half for the second post, but for now, feast yer glazzies on...
Anakh the Jackal-God and the First Man: A DiVerse Legend
by Colin Stokes
A long time ago, before the Great City of Dur Lachesis was built, the jackal-god Anakh fell from the sky in the dead of night and rose from the sand with the sunrise.
Anakh's powerful eyes pierced through the rising sun and scoured the world's surface, finding it barren and lifeless. But Anakh knew he stood upon ground destined for him, land promised to those who would follow him; and so Anakh drove his Singing Glaives hilt-first into the sand, one on either side of him. Then Anakh knelt, closed his eyes, and waited.
The sun did not burn Anakh, neither did the sand abrade him. Anakh waited.
The chill of night did not freeze Anakh, neither did the wind move him. Anakh waited.
The smell of magic assaulted Anakh's nostrils. Anakh opened his eyes to see a hole torn open in the sky. Anakh watched as a man, the First Man, fell out of it, screaming as he plummeted to the sand.
Anakh reached out to catch the First Man, and spoke. "/Peace/," Anakh said, and the First Man quieted himself and bowed his head in humility.
"I have waited for you," Anakh said, and placed the First Man on the sand, where he stood tall and raised his head.
"What is to become of me?" the First Man asked, gazing up at Anakh and his eyes of burning gold, brighter than the stars.
Anakh bared his teeth in a grin. "That is for you to decide. But I, Anakh, tell you that your destiny is here in these very sands."
"This is to be a difficult destiny, then?" the First Man inquired with a sigh.
"Just so," Anakh confirmed. "And the city you bring forth shall be called 'Dur Lachesis', your difficult destiny. But I shall help it endure."
The First Man slowly turned around once before looking up at Anakh once more. "If there is to be a city, there must first be a foundation of unshakeable strength."
Saying nothing, Anakh took the First Man and placed him on his shoulder, five times as high as the First Man's head was above the ground. Still saying nothing, Anakh grasped both of his Singing Glaives and lifted them out of the sand. Finally, yet saying nothing, Anakh pointed his Glaives at the sand between his feet and gently tapped their blades together.
The First Tone was struck.
The sand beneath Anakh's feet shrieked as it suddenly liquefied, then just as suddenly turned to black glass.
Unperturbed, Anakh took the First Man from his shoulder and set him upon the glass. "Upon this rock you shall build your city, and from it your kingdom shall arise."
The First Man stamped his feet upon the glass, and was satisfied. "How shall I repay you, Anakh?"
"You shall not, for this service to you is my payment to another. I shall shape the blocks for your city as I have shaped its foundation. But," Anakh cautioned, "if you must call upon my powers for another reason, I shall demand payment, for to do a service without cost is to do a disservice."
The First Man pondered Anakh's words for a time, and nodded. "Then those shall be the guiding words of my kingdom," he finished, walking off and returning with a white rock in hand. The First Man knelt, and as he chipped away at the glass to engrave the words, he spoke them as well. "Service... without... cost... is... disservice."
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