"Last Days 01" by William Teo aka Eterna2

Last Day of Today, If Only ...
© 2002-2003 William Teo

It was a stormy night, multiple streaks of lightning crashed onto the dull weathered rocks that filled the valley. Thunder roared their fury, but at the eye of this unnatural storm, a lone tower stood unmoved, untouched by the anger of the gods. They were helpless, they could do nothing, the world is ending. The eyes of all were on the tower, on the lone cloaked figure who dwelled within. The wizard, who was born and was breathing his last within this dark tower, within the solace of his room.

Grasping weakly for his scythe, the emancipated man convulsed violently as yet another spasm gripped his ancient age-mottled body. Blinking his tears away, he sighed, as the pain in his heart gradually eased into a dull throbbing ache. Spitting the tangly metallic taste of blood from his mouth, the ancient necromancer stood up straight, despite his age. It's time.

His eyes, burning crimson with unnatural fervor, the pale necromancer stroked his silvery runic scythe gently and slowly began his long journey to the peak of the tower, to the altar where he will cast his final spell. If only..., the weeping wizard whispered as he made his way to his final destination. If only....

The freezing winds howled, whipping through the narrow corridors seeking for the man who would bring about the end of everything. The storm grew stronger, desperated. Raindrops hissed as they struck unrelentlessly against the cold fossilized bones of the tower. Rain of acids. They burnt, they killed all that they touched, man, animals, everything. Nature had gone crazy. Wild laughters erupted from the slender frame, My life is mine and no others. The world must end. But if only... He shook his head sadly, his eyes filled with unspeakable sorrows, his long white hairs rippling gently despited the wild gales that sought take away his life. If only... The ancient wizard lifted his foot and took yet another step.

With every step the wheezing old man took, the earth shook. Great cracks appeared throughout the rocky landscape. The earth shook. The sea heaved, and raging torrents of oily fluid gushed through the great gaps of the wizard's valley. Pausing a moment to catch his fading breath, He's eyes roamed the valley which had been his home for the past decades, when it was still green and full of life. But now, like the rest of the world, it is dead, nothing grow upon it any more. The soils was poisoned, the air noxious and the rain acidic. The grasses that he once tenderly groomed, was gone, only clumps of vicious mutated plants remained. He sighed, his once peaceful grove had become a place devoid of harmony, only chaos remained.

Brushing his crystal tears away, the necromancer shivered slightly in the extreme cold that had permeated his valley. Gingerly flexing his stiff joints, the stubborn wizard continued up the stairs determinedly. I must... The great torrents of poisoned water from the sea kept pouring into the valley, pounding mindlessly against the barrier He had risen around his tower. In anguish, the ancient man averted his crimson eyes as he casted a bolt of dark crackling energy towards the swarm of finless shark-like monsters that sought to break through his mystic barrier. Oh, they screamed, each and everyone of them screamed their hatred for man, for their losses, as they slowly died under the merciless grip of the necromancer's spell. I'm sorry. Forgive us...

A blink of an eye, or an eternity, no one knows. The weeping figure with a silver scythe had finally made his way to the peak of the ancient tower. Mystic energy gathered about the wizard, as he began his mournful song. He sang of a world where the sun was gently nurturing the young seedlings, a world where the air was rich with the songs of birds, rich with the aroma of roses and a world in harmony. But now, the world is dying, in great pain, agony. Rising his father's runic scythe, He whispered a short farewell and smited the heart of the dying world.

NOOoooooo!!! Someone screamed. Pausing, the necromancer then realised that the voice was his. What right do you have to end a life, even if it is in pain, suffering? None. NONE. You have no right! Is it mercy? the voice demanded fiercely. He screamed, his fingers crutching at his face, inflicting deep bleeding grooves. NOOOoooo!! The wizard dug at his eyes, for he could not bear to see. The world is suffering. He struck the pulsing gem, the heart of the world. If only...

A blinding light. The world was silent. A soft sigh escaped the weathered old figure still on his throne of bone. It's time. The ancient necromancer remarked as he reached for his scythe, a single tear falling from his closing eyes. But if only... the old man whispered as he breathed his last, a journey ending before it began.

Perhaps the birds would come again.

If only man ...

08 Sep 2002