Twilight Oracle

Listen to me, oh Seeker, and know the follies of our path to mutual self annihilation. I shall set things straight, yet, forgiveness is far from accepting us at this time.
"~Ethiopia One~
Upon the unleashing of the Twelfth Legion,
The sky was filled with a blinding screech,
As the sound of a million dying infants,
Became as one.
The Numberless Horde attacked the jungles,
Of a primitive, yet older, world,
The colour from the eyes ran down the faces,
Of those who stood,
In the domain of the Holy Tower,
And the secret it harbored.
The worshipping places of the Unclean,
Felt the conqueroring boot heel,
Announcing the arrival of the Eternal Emperor,
Doomed were those who wore not the red cloak."
"~Rome Eighteen: The Restrained~
The earth spewed forth an endless brotherhood,
That swarmed the cities,
Bludgeoning the minds of the souless herd,
The children became insane,
And the suicides of the priests filled the air,
The form of the emperor was not far behind.
The Drunken God saw fit to send the Restrained Conqueror,
Cutting the razor hide from,
The Conqueror's wrists, neck, and feet,
He had released upon the world,
A type of enlightenment,
Mankind would soon regret."
"~Athens One: The Weeping Duchess~
Once she had finished expelling herself upon him,
He ceased his mortal path,
And she rejoined the Grand Council.
She wore the Expectant Dragon upon her exposed corset,
A stream of blood from the corner of her mouth,
Connecting the stream down her leg,
An armada leaves port,
And the legions advance her standards,
From all roads stretching from The City,
Announcing a new canidate in the running,
And from her mind is born a child,
The world shall come to fear."
More to come...or so it is written. The writing may be a forgery, as it is said.
We can only hope...
At the start of the Axion Revolt, Zaylyn Alexandros knew he had to march upon the cities themselves, which no free thinker was permitted to do. Those that had in the past became mere helots of social tyranny, of one form or the other, or consigned themselves to their own exile after some years. Some whispered him as the son of Eris, others Phanes, some even went so far as to say that he had never been born at all. Nevertheless, he stole the filthy laurel leaves lying beside a desolate country road. From there, he crowned himself the new Caesar (Kaiser) witnessed only by abandoned factories. The Twilight Oracle of Axios left us with a chronicle of what happened next:
How swiftly Zaylyn had surmounted the dilapidated farmhouses and trailer parks of the barbarians’ savagery. He knew that, in the Americas and elsewhere worldwide, once the old “frontiers” were conquered, another one was set in its place. In his mind conceived immense upheavals and a greater struggle. When he reached the gutters, clearly through the murky night appeared a mighty image of his country in distress; Grief in Her face, Her white hair streaming from Her tower-crowned head. With tresses torn and shoulders bare, She stood before him, and sighing, said: “Where further do you march, Axions? Where do you take my standards? If as warriors, and not citizens bound for slavery, this far only is allowed. Unfortunately, the gutter is your border.”
Trembling struck the leader’s limbs, his hair grew stiff with fear, and weakness checked his progress, holding his feet at the gutter’s edge.
At last he speaks: “Oh, Thunderer, my Darling Axios, surveying the great cities of where You do not yet exist, I stand upon the ruins of Pella with one boot, covering Athens, Sparta, and Rome with my frenzied shadow, and with the other boot do I stand upon the tribal lands of the Americas. Oh, Green Muse, encircled in dragon smoke, which touched me, with her delicate hand, did I receive Your Divine Madness. Oh, great artists and thinkers, dying by the scores as nameless children, carried to the Eternal Temple of Uselessness. Those noble and honourable warriors I know, too, raped by the society they are forced to support.
Oh, Axios, equal to the highest form of valor, favor my plans! Not with impious weapons do I pursue you. Here am I, Zaylyn, murdered son of harlots and drunkards, Your own warrior and offspring of the Great Unseen! Now shall I be everywhere, too, if I am permitted. The ones who make me Your enemy, it is they who will be the guilty ones!”
Then he broke the barriers of war, and through the littered gutters, swiftly he took his standards, the banners of the blackened Expectant Dragon emblazoned upon a red field. When Zaylyn crossed the flood and reached the opposite bank from his own Hesperia’s Forbidden Fields, he took his stand, with his bloodied legionaires, and said through enraged, clenched fangs:
“Here I have abandoned peace and desecrated law! Fortune, it is YOU I follow! Farewell to treaties and following social rule of the barbarian! From now on, STRUGGLE shall be OUR judge!!”
“Ave` Kaiser! We who are about to bleed curse you!”
~Axion Chronicle of The Twilght Oracle
(Rights Reserved, Twelfth Door Publishing, 19 June 2005)
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