Priya Echo's Adventure - Part 12

CHAPTER 55 - PHANTOMESS SKIPS ON CLOUDS

Location: Earth

Date: Present Time

Phantomess jumped across the simple clouds looking for anything that would satisfy the soles of her feet. Below was a rather inspiring sweep of land. A benevolent place to witness the trials of humanity. Phantomess felt her heart linger on a certain cloud. The breadth of it was enticing. It incensed the very nature of her being. The patron drew near to it. She knew what had to be done and with a great jump pressed her heels deep into the supine mass of it. The touch of it invigorated her feet, even within her high heels. Now the sapphire sky was shining clear. The space above was more like home than it ever was. And the bitterness of it swept in. Through the stiffness of cold she ran. The wind made her shoulders hard. In her world youth was but the starting point and it grew greater every year. More bravery. More perplexing joy. In great surrender two clouds crashed into each other but she was expecting that. Like a dancer she leapt up and arched over the whole event. A vortex of air almost threw her off course and when she came down her feet were surprised with a thud on a rather hard cloud. Compared to her shorter sisters, Phantomess was the elevated one. They had always complained about her height. Slender and lithe. And the very very long legs. That one got to them alot. She had a white skin tone. Short, tomboyish red hair, with freckles stippling her face. Often, she wore an aqua-marine blue dress, the type with a long skirt. Sometimes replaced with a vest but not today. Aside from the gear, she had a string of small rocks levitating around her person, like toys. Using magic, she could increase their size for skipping purposes. Courageously, she leaped from one cloud to the next, feeling the spring in her leg, the impact on her feet. Her blue dress looked like a souvenir from a dream. At the impact, a gush of dust tried to capture her. Yet she leapt again, outpacing it. The dust around her dwindled until it was a memory. The sky was like a safari that day, filled with ivories. The sun flung its light over heaps of yellow drenched clouds in the most devil-may-care fashion. The girl arced among them, wearing a jaunty smile on her face. It stirred something inside of her. Her chest felt spacious and cheerful. A grotesque happiness beyond words tantalizing her being. Fresh wispy clouds with the blemish of tangerine light. White and ossified to the core. A cloud spasmed as it received a gust from the north. As she descended, the clashing force of the wind against her figure instilled its icey lash. This way and that, the wind decked her cheeks with its frozen blows. The patron traveled for miles.

An hour passed. An auspicious sky welcomed her into its empire. The uncluttered thing was more than enough to explore. The far reaching blue invigorated her, knowing it would stretch across the entirety of the world. Again, Phantomess felt the onslaught of the wind on her face. It twisted with an inhuman strength. Manifold evergreens carpeted the landscape. She had no quarrel with the beauty of earth. From her viewpoint, she could see a dozen metropolitan areas. From this distance they looked like baby cities. Miniature rectangular prisms in ordered rows. Below, she could see the enemy in the field. Bellicose armies marched on one another. Fires dotted in their wake. Multiplying their hostilities across land and city. Fighting with bulldog determination. A word light tipped upward to catch her in its magical targeting system. It screeched with intensity, and blasted a focused beam of light towards her. Phantomess fell through the air, high heels first against the enemy. She had one leg pointed towards it, and the other bent at the knee. As the bean hit, in all its gleaming potency, it was deflected as she spun like a top, the very tip of her high heel making contact. Phantomess alighted on the word light and leapt back upward as hard as she could, shattering the whole of it. As she rose up, she could hear the cheering roars of the men who had witnessed it.

Tucked in between the folds of the cloud was a greeting card. Delicately, she bent over and plucked it out. “I do not ask you to fight. The most important thing is to keep the memory of the echo realm. Do not let it fade - ‘Dramatic’ ” it read. An ally of Echo’s of course, but as the war raged below, it was a curious petition, and its full intent was unclear. Phantomess broke off her advance as she noticed something out of place. At the outskirts of a final cloud, she discovered a blue figure crinkled up like a dried leaf. She drew near and at once it was apparent how the ice upon its person enfolded. In her thoughts, she realized how the lone soldier had fallen from orbit. The battles there would have been intense, blazing with lasers from spaceships of unprecedented design. It would have gifted the earth this casualty. Draped over a cloud, layered with cold ice, like an animal trapped in winter. Phantomess chose a finger and touched the bulk of it. A blue body with ribbons stretching from the shoulders to the back. One strange horn protruding from the forehead like a satyr, and the other a stump. Soon cracks formed on the surface, releasing all the agony of the past … and its injustice. The casualty was so frail, it simply transformed into a heap of blue and purple dust. Unlike the others that came before, Phantomess stood silently, and let this one capture her. The blue and purple swiveled in constant motions. She lifted a hand and molded it into a fist, “We will win the day … this time”.

CHAPTER 56 - SNOW STANDS UP FOR HERSELF

Halfway between sunrise and sunset, afternoon unleashed its handsome greenery. Grass and fields. Trees who were never apart in the myriad crowd. Confessing earth’s secrets in the form of leaves. As if humanity was entrusted with its beauty. Atop that roof of green, the blue sky ambled on. Vapors returned to the heights where they would be recycled. As a cloud lifted, a more elegant light was inflicted upon the sensibilities. Its path would continue unabated through a channel below, where a city stood as evidence of an adult society. An architect had worked long hours to draft the buildings to a shape of halfhearted semi-perfection. They were astute in their modernness. Designed for good measure against the antics of time.

Even so, the squirrels were holding the local population hostage. They installed a puppet mayor, and the real one was being smacked in the face with a bushy tail. To meet the challenge, the University 115th Student Regiment marched up the hill. They wore beaming smiles and sharp military uniforms. Earlier that day, there was a graduation from training with honors and confetti and goodbyes. A few proud families held back tears to dignify the solemn occasion. All the battles they had between them melted away. It was the start of something new, and everyone knew it. Except of course for the imposter in the ranks. She marched along with keen movements, patting her leader on the shoulder to keep him pacified. Shouting some fighting words. Everyone was fooled and didn’t question the waterfall of pure white falling over her shoulders. Snow blushed at the thought of trespass. Being of regular proportions she could easily huddle with the academic crowd. As the regiment crested the hill she made a break for it, towards a lesser inhabited space on the fringe of the city. Her slippers made quiet hints of her presence through the wood, as she canvassed right and left. Around her the trees stood firm in the delirium of green. An interlude in that tapestry gave way to an open area. Snow smiled with delight at how wily she had been. Ahead of her were metallic buildings and bordered up doors. A bolt could not curb her desires, and so she reached for the sugar packet resting on her back, and sliced open the edifice in a crosswise motion. It was thicker than a sword and did much greater damage. “This is it” Snow thought, relishing the darkness that awaited her. The very touch of it brought out the sparkle on her arms that proliferated to every inch of her body. An abandoned place with inconspicuous shapes in the dark. The sort that would stop a lesser patron in her tracks. A muffled sound came from the woods behind her, but she knew it was only the day escaping. “Ow '' thought Snow as she easily bumped her head on a sleek steel door. Some fidgeting about in the dark led her finger to a button that flashed red. As the elevator plummeted down … Snow took another moment and considered how sneakily sneaky she had been. Those poor soldiers did not even notice a thing.

Further away, a soldier was caught unawares and had to flee from the field. He made his way through a thicket. Above the ground were geysers erupting from the swollen body of the earth. Their outpourings in long, effortless motions. A gargoyle of fear trembled in his throat. The sight of it harpooned the heart. Thrusting too and fro. Shimmering walls with privacy behind them. The university soldier spied the frantic arms of conversation, drenched in a silhouette of the geyser’s invention. It could have been anyone who found themselves in the center of a conference on a warm summer day. Unprofessional winds lingered in the open air, waiting for any sort of direction to plunge them forward. A less absolute feeling of surprise made his hands quiver with the force of it. He took a step back until the field was in stricter proportions. Now the multitudes were clear. Silhouettes in every room in every geyser. It was a good day. Fine enough to see the ascent of angels. Harrowing enough to see the dissolution of clouds … and the theories that compose them. Thereafter, it would be a murky night that pulls the entrails of the clouds to the horizon. And the horizon would become the angels and they would be reborn as spirits that haunt the geysers below. Agape in conversation, like people in the park when they are not alone with their thoughts. And the angels were really fragments of spoiled clouds. The blue intensity of the sky almost split his head in razor sharp pieces. The gargoyle came out of his mouth as a voice but it was numb. He went to the wall and an insubstantial arm popped out and held onto his arm. They pulled him inside. While the other soldiers were playing with squirrels.

A cordial ding from the elevator announced the end of her journey. The doors slid open and she was ushered from that good natured confinement. Feeling no resistance, the doors closed behind her. Across the woman’s body she could sense the dry enfeebled air. Snow suddenly hovered as the floor was unremarkably absent. It was a more open space. That feeling of the drop down heightened in her chest. Inside, its effect magnified and lauded her torso. Now the room and its contents were bare to see. Extra sized acorns stocked up in neat rows. A path between for leisurely walking. At the foot of any subject was the name tag of the hapless inhabitant who had been transformed. “Sarah Cox” bit brightly into her mind. “Darryl Finnegan”, “James Harland”. The names would not end. To think that deep below the crust they would be stirring. Adults hugging the woody shell of that egg. “Are you going to help us already?” came a beautiful voice, tinged with solace. A layer of short brown hair. Linden Dream rose from the ground alongside his partner, his motions unimpeded, his presence like a flash of insight. Snow looked down into his circular glasses. The subtlety of his golden armor paled in comparison. “Not today. I wanted to talk to you about something important” she declared, wiping the frost from her palms. Linden stood still, unchanged by the intent of it. “And what is on your mind?” he answered. “I will tell you what I think, and I need you to do something about it” she demanded, as if the forces of nature were at her behest. Behind the woman, her hair swayed like a white picket fence in a storm. The body produced momentary stars in earnest, as if time was no obstacle. “Are you looking this way for a reason? Tell me what it is. I will do my utmost”, Linden offered, saying the words that would ultimately lead her to a decision he had already made and planned for. An ardor flared in the woman’s eye. It could not be expunged so easily. “Have you not seen what is going on? The war is blazing outside. Towers are falling. The soldiers are doing their best'' Snow protested, rich with the insanity of anger. She thrust her arms outwards, so that a cool draft iced the walls of the room. Still, Linden was firm. A blank expression that could not be lifted. Upon his person a light of unspecified type flourished like an enigma. “The patrons will be victorious against this assault. You know they have witnessed many before” he implored, forcefully to satisfy the matter. Ahead of him, was the charismatic beauty of a crystal life form, and it would not subside. “It’s not enough! The dreamer is out there fighting alone. The patrons are scattered. We even propped up some kids with magic for the fight” Snow railed, the weight of it falling from her shoulders. With fierce contagion the ice made its way to her iris. The look of disgust was palpable, clamoring from her lips. “Yes, this is a great confrontation to be sure. It will take all their strength”, he explained again, making the sound as crisp as it would go. The memory of endless wars hummed in his psyche. They had been unlikely, their enemies relentless. Like sands on a ravaged beach. His people sent them all to the light of the echo seal. “The fight is out there! Why are you here instead of helping. I get that the acorns have to be gathered, but that’s a job that you can give to anyone” She pleaded. This could not be permitted. Her heart dissented from its ordinary bounds. The winning features of her face screamed out in anguish. In an unusual moment, her skin stopped dissolving like the snowflakes that fall from the sky. Linden sighed and knew he had met his match. The visage before him was full of clandestine light, tinged with the embrace of ice. Beacons of that sort could never lead a man astray, “Alright, do you want to know the reason”. Snow descended a bit to hear the words. Magic swelled in her breast. A feeling of wet sogginess slipped through her fingers, “I do! Tell me everything”. Linen closed his eyes for a second. In restful awakening he thought of the dreamer. The many perils she had faced. Visioness of the Infinite Black Rainbow. Hogarth the Beheader. Armies of the Alliance. Each had brought her one step closer, “Priya does not need our help. This one is personal. This is her fight”. The insult made its way in circuitous motions about her person, carving away the final locks that held back her impulse. “Are you serious? You should be out there alongside her, turning the enemy to dust. You have the powers. You’re avoiding us!” Snow shouted, loud enough to tremble the room. The fires that had brought them here. In this room, on this day. She looked back at him. An unenviable gaze that would not yield. “I meant it Snow. This is for the future of the realm. Priya must do this alone. Any force from us would only interfere” Linden continued. He could sustain this argument forever. A glimmer swept down the length of his armor, like a waterfall, beyond the thick of clouds. The sinew in his muscle tightened. A modest face with the knowledge of destiny. This was a man of caliber. “You meant to be our leaders! Now you’re turning your back on us!” Snow cried, in quick motion pointing to the man she thought she knew. Copious with tears. Pining for release from the struggle. Melina looked to her husband, as they were not accustomed to such defiance. “It’s for her own good” Liden uttered, putting down what had been sought for. Now the patron was fraught with merciless grief. Her white hair fell by her waist side. It would give no courtesy to the wind. “I will give you something good!” she promised, lifting both hands to their possible heights. Around them, frost crept meticulously across the walls. The air heaved with an unwelcome bitterness. Linden could see the plasticity of the magic around her, unfurling. Snow invented a blizzard before their eyes. Wild masses of soft homogeny. Sharp like the coldest day. Eddies of alabaster flowing like waves. She tossed it upon them and the Couple was encased in ice. In the aftermath of that, a rising feeling itched the inside of her throat. Hovering in midair, she came to her knees. Tears filled with units of salt, equal in measure. In undulating movements down her cheek. A burst of power, then a thought that racked the body. Emancipating all that came before. Snow dropped down towards the arms of the ice sculptures and continued the progress, releasing all she had. A hand sheltered in that sleek material broke through, and placed it upon her shoulder. The crust of it fell from their figures onto the waiting ground. Linden and Melina placed their arms around the back of their granddaughter. “I’m so sorry Snow. It just had to be this way” Melina whispered. “This isn’t right, It goes against everything we’ve fought for” the cold one offered. Melina felt a cheek that was colder than space. She craned her neck up to the other’s eyes, “But you know it’s necessary. Priya must get stronger”. Salt reached the tips of her fingers, “Are you going to leave us? After all the ages?”. Linden put his forehead to hers, “Come here”.

CHAPTER 57 - THE ARMADA

“Priya would kick your butt one million times over !!!” Timecurrent championed at the top of her lungs while slapping his knee. Telenon was starting to get amused at the constant impotence of his opponents. He leant his head back and gave out a half-hearted snicker, “That’s a laugh, Time. I could destroy her in any way I wanted. It wouldn’t last a day”. Time gasped at the thought of it. The world conquered by this beast … she would have to change her wardrobe, get new photo ID’s and smile for the camera when they say cheese and everything. “You wouldn’t dare!” she challenged, hands collapsed together in frantic petition. “It’s absolutely hopeless Time. I’m the leader of the Voices of Reason. I have powers even beyond your belief” he sighed, his mind beaming with the thought of their acquiescence. The day after. The things he could do. And their boundless optimist crushed to dust. Time sat there for a moment, thinking intently until she came up with a productive idea. From her kneeling position on the ground, she sprung up and landed on his lap. “Well buddy … How about this? You spare my friends and let Priya go, and I will do something for you” she began, piercing him with sharp, academic eyes. “And what is that?” Telenon sought, feeling the weight of the patron upon him. For a diligent whisper, she leant in close to his ear, “I can use my time lapse powers to make things go really slow …. if you know what i mean”. Those cyborg lips and baby blue hair. They were coming in fast. His heart beat quickly like a jet pilot spiraling down and about to eject. Telenon gawked at the wall for a moment since the pedestrian stone was becoming increasingly more interesting. A bit of drool fell from his lip. Time sat in patient silence, waiting for an answer. But just as that was about to happen, a new portal revealed itself in front of them. “Why now? At the very hour of my triumph” Telenon wondered aloud. It was a novel planet somewhere in the galaxy. Attired with fertile intercontinental bridges. Dense with aquatic globules. A speciality of the planet. Cities shrouded in individual hills of wispy cloudstuff. And revolutions that wouldn’t cease. Time looked up from the placid surface. A group of vessels were assembled in orbit. Their hulls were savage and blustery with turrets. There was a synergy amongst them. All together for the action against Telenon. Myriad forces. Enough to face their Nemesis. “Who are these guys?” she thought aloud, while sliding back to the hard custody of the floor. “Another world that finds fault with my rule. Just a distraction to be sure. The Haiphians won’t steal this moment from me” Telenon vowed. He leant forward over Time in his chair. Now salivating with barbarian pleasure. The raw hedonism of violence flared in his eyes. Awakened by the sound of an instrument, the tails of the assembly flicked on with ruby red cones. They headed to the edge of their solar system. “I will give you what you seek. Pure destruction!” Telenon screeched mockingly. He hurled his right arm towards the portal and its view. To match the glory of that fleet, another sent by the Temple drew near. The escaping fleet could not leave the confines of its sandbox. They had been caught. Big bowling balls zoomed forward, each of which with three big holes. From them thick serpents emerged, hissing wrathfully. Time watched as the ships were bitten into, their hulls gored with a predatory strike. Riveting cascades of flame leapt from the wounds. The vessels exploded in kind. Lasers tried as they could to pierce the black spheres and their energy shields. Soon enough, the snake pit from galactic hell had cleared the floor. The beasts approached the planet. As they reached formation, their eyes lit up with a stunning blue flame. “What?” Time gasped. Telenon leaned down and pressed a hand tightly against her shoulder. Pristine wrinkles accelerated through another dimension, jolting everything at once. A blue transparent flame like the most subtle star ignited upon her body. Telenon felt the heat of it as it flickered. “Aaaaah!!!” she screamed. Carefully, the world below began to spin. The time-lapse upon its surface quickened. With insurmountable force the channel was established. Telenon pumped more energy into it. Time felt her spirit refracted like white light through a prism. Years of social movement passed before her eyes. The populace slowly aging and degrading into the finest atoms. The days rushing by like a horizontal waterfall. As the ball spun a hundred times a second, Time observed the gradual emptiness. The shrill hiss of the serpents in orbit, looking down with ocular excitement. Blue infernos in their eyes. And then they were alone. The portal shrunk to nil, and it was over. Telenon and Time regained their composure in unison. With poignant convulsions. An army march of sweat glided down her neck onto her chest. In reply, she leant her back onto the throne and its rough comfort. Few words were needed to describe what had occurred. Guttural grunts did the trick. Atop the chair, the man was inspired. “From now on … no more interruptions” he breathed, happy with the aftermath of things.

CHAPTER 58 - HOPE

Location: Wonderstruck Synthesis and Earth Matryoshka

Date: Before The Rikiral War

Participants filed listlessly into a basic council chamber for a routine matter. Awaiting them was a long oval table of dark blue, and stout chairs carved of the same stone core. In the heart of Wonderstruck Synthesis, they were safe from prying eyes. Among the cohort were the designated ministers of the Voices of Reason and their leader Telenon. How the most purposeful of them became head was a twist of fate. An astute yet ill-tempered man, he sat at the front of the table. The others bowed to him, knowing with full awareness the scope of his abilities. Its transformations flawless, its essence precious. Below the gates of Wonderstruck the outer space of various matryoshka rumbled with potent, newborn stars. A crisp energy hovered about him, ready for the day’s work. “Are we ready to decide on the trials?” he questioned. The others nodded in agreement. For the majority of them it was a pleasant start. Yet all of a sudden, a sullied renegade trod in. He was voiceless as he stood and took a stance at the other end of the table. Telenon grit his teeth. He should be in a dungeon. A dungeon with a million dragons. “Do we have the honor of hearing from Dramatic?” he offered delicately. The old gray beard stepped closer. A breeze ruffled his robe, “Indeed we do … brothers and sisters. Just recently I have returned from an interesting survey of the earth matryoshka. The world turns and the people are in good spirits. I walked the cities. I felt the air on my face. But as I did the future fell into my sight. They are coming my friends, the citizens of another Elementum. The Rikiral. Fast through space in their tireless ships. Soldiers of a planet one hundred times the scale of earth. And they will find our people. Astounded by each other, the meeting will be harmonious. Due to this, human and rikiral will interbreed and their imagination will become more powerful. A salience beyond anything. Free, pure thought. The focal element in its true realization”. “Enough Dramatic!” Telenon barked, “The masses know I am the greatest warrior of imagination. My fist is the hardest. It turns everything to embers”. Dramatic did not flinch. He scanned the audience and cleared his throat for rhetoric, “Voices of Reason, hear me, even as we speak an ordinary human born today has an innate ability greater than all of us, and as time passes our children will surpass us”. A buoyant laughter circled around the room. Ministers looked to their neighbors in mirth. “Clever sport old man. Did you come here to challenge me?” Telenon dared, rising from his seat. He scowled, thinking the others' speech was null and void. From there they all arose and went to the adjacent room, where an arena jutted from the ground. There, Voices clash by manifesting a display of imagination in turn, each stronger than the other, until one is of greatest energy. Ministers spread out, greedy for the sparring to begin. They had their favorite, and in thoughtless passion they had already guessed the winner. Telenon gracefully lifted his arms and sailed his hands through the air. Along his fingertips trailed a fine delicate powder of pulverized magic. Effortlessly he brought into the foreground a vision of fire and of blazing monsters firing cannonballs from their backs. Raptured, the crowd patted each other on the back. But Dramatic was not impressed. He had seen his friend’s work before. He had seen him fashion the Spheres of Zest. He had seen him cause the Machiavellian Eagle to burrow into the sands of Loyasa. He had seen him halt the Vessel of a Thousand Leagues from its transit through Multi Proxima, although its thrusters were the size of mountains and the turrets were plasma cannons. This was a meager display and he wouldn’t recoil in the way a lesser man would. Dramatic took a deep breath. Now it was his turn. Rhetoric had failed so he would need to deliver something else. Something that would open their eyes. Telenon crossed his arms in contempt. What an ill-mannered brat. So, the old man channeled all his enigmatic force into a single hand. A glint in his eye alighted. The robes upon his person danced with ripples. And he reached into the future, where there was the first man to find love with a rikiral woman, and reached into his spirit. Mahandran Echo gasped. “This is it '' Dramatic knew. The ministers waited for the display, and they were not expecting such a push all the way back to the wall from light itself. Mahandran felt his hope for the future fly into the air, departing his body. The quickness of time arrowed through the room. Atop the platform a world appeared, the future as the couple sought. It was earth, lit with bright cities of human and rikiral alike. “THIS IS THE FUTURE !!!” Dramatic burst, his voice deep like the ancient voids of space. Energy left the minister’s clothes in shreds. The brightness of the hope-earth paralyzed Telenon for the first time ever. He had never felt this way. The trembling fear. In seconds the thing dispersed and they were alone. For the room, what had been witnessed could never be unwitnessed. A defiance against those that had whispered into the cosmic trees. And him who was their chieftain. Not a single domain had ventured to oppose them and lived. Telenon regained his senses once the image was gone, “You were once my best warrior, my best friend” he cried, “You want to help the humans … then become one!!!”. The chieftain rushed to Dramatic and grabbed him by the robe on his chest, thrusting him forward. Crashing through stone, they plummeted onwards through Wonderstruck back to the land of stars. Dramatic peered behind him. Like a downed spaceship, they were headed for a crash landing on some lush forgotten world. Telenon roared as fierce rage shriveled his countenance. As that happened the mighty wizard bashed the other through the world like a wall, and onto the second world in the solar system, and the third. The triplets exploded in kind. They had been barriers. Meaningless. Dramatics’ eyes flared like newly minted silver coins. He punched his aggressor back. The chieftain craned his neck. The old man had grown to fifty times his size, his robe billowing with the chill of space. He stared down with silver that had become flame, its tail flicking into the unknown. Yet Telenon knew he dwarfed the other. He stood still, waiting for instinct to dawn and make him a warrior … then silence. Dramatic was surprised. He kept his eyes on the man to see what it was. Magnificent continents whirled past into the depths of space, their tips glowing like toy infernos. Planes of gravity shifted out of their regular order. Its effect swept through neighboring systems, sending strange orbs to new quarters. Without fellowship, the star became a relic. Then it happened. Swiftly, unexpectedly. Wet tears made a mad descent down the man’s face. It was a quirk the old man did not anticipate. Telenon pointed with his right, outstretched arm, “I will give you one mercy, go to the humans, never return”. The sorrow pounded deep in his chest. Rich like drum beats. As Dramatic saw the chieftain his eyes returned to normal. His size decreased, “I will go, but I will find a champion, and they will reclaim the stars”. In gusto he turned, his robe flapping in kind. In moments he would escape in faultless acceleration through the aether. His feet would be on earth. His bare soles on mild grass. No … he stopped. That was not enough. With eyes no longer engulfed in metallic flame he looked back at the man who was his friend, who was his comrade, who was his leader, “I enjoyed that day in the park”. And they would part ways. Days later everything was set in motion.

Location: Planet of the Voices of Reason

Date: Present Time

It was an awful memory and Telenon descended his throne. Like his compatriot, he had feet with bare soles. It was a long flat, featureless place. In that manner he approached the chamber of the Maelstrom Allegiance. It crackled with energy. A tornado of enterprising wind, its funnel swirling up into ecstasy. At intervals along its length were rings with ghosts of the ministers chanting their endless assertions, giving it strength. His toes pardoned from walking. His soles relieved of painful labors. Letting go he let the draft uplift him. Passage through the heights filled the man’s body with beautiful calm. Alleviation in the realest sense. A kindness wrought in the focus of his being. He scaled upwards. Unceasing, as the rings of ministers chanted. Their hibernations would continue for many cycles, beyond the current strife. Priya Echo. Why did she have to be such a know it all? That long jet-black hair … When the man found the right distance he activated the spell, and the cyclone reacted, forging a space blueprinted of imagination. Telenon found himself on warm meadows. A fine planet. Strong, effeminate trees. Clouds that would make a geisha blush. Telenon continued on his way. There were trees at intervals. Their hapless leaves discarded at the rush of a northern breeze. Fickle animals reclined on grass to doze away the endless days. Telenon stopped and admired a charming horizon that stretched for miles. From the fountainhead of one cloud a rainbow poured. It drifted to the ground, making a full arc. Telenon closed his eyes, picturing the adversary and her tactics. The way she shattered that mirror and forged the mirror sword. The swing of the blade. Its glimmering action. “Priya Echo, do you think you’re the only one with mirror powers” he called. With the wave of his hand the ground split and from it a gigantic mirror rose, climbing to the sky. Now the portion of the landscape was doubled, including the rainbow. Like a narcissist studying his looks, his eyes considered the handsome bridge. “Let me envisage my very own Priya Echo and put her in shackles!” he laughed. Telenon tried as hard as he could. Sweat from the endeavor lapped down his resilient body. Drawing substance from the world, an eddy of a portal formed ahead of him. Expectations rose. Beyond it, the complexion of the forest shifted. Adorning the portal, a shameless blue of rippling force twirled. Then the model stepped through to greet him. Its foot with high heels snapping the first blades of grass. “Bonjour. Would you prefer a gelato” offered a woman. A beret tilted on her head. Any hooligan with a decent globe knew that France was several nautical miles from India, “Is that like Priya?” he thought. Telenon was dumbfounded and just stood there for a moment, wondering why he couldn’t get it right. To add to his disdain, the model started swinging around in some kind of skirt. It got in close and looked him up and down, smirking with a dry smile. Telenon dispatched the first one and tried again. He tried a few more times but with no luck sent them back from whence they came. It was all useless. “I can envisage anything, why can’t I envisage her completely” he lamented.

So, he fled the scene, pivoting up to a corridor fraught with chaos. Dashing, his flight followed a coiled path. Along walls whose motion was a blur. And stealthy, predatory winds that cycled about him. “All hail the maelstrom allegiance” rising from the depths. From his head adrenaline kicked in and a new world presented itself. Its skies angry. Its clouds brimming with lightning. All at once from every angle the world was destroyed by strikes on its surface, turning to rubble. Telenon soared through the disarray to find a temple the proportions of a space station. It had very long columns. But the chase was on, as the clouds that had assailed the planet pursued him, lasering their lightning strikes at his heels. The chieftain swerved and missed them every time, their bolts crashing into pillars, snapping them. “Persistent are we” he confessed, gritting his teeth. Although they could not get him, their maneuverability was unimpeachable, trailing him through various rooms. Blue stings of their lightning crashing into anything that moved. The words “Not good enough!”, like a true emotion expelled from Telenon’s throat. He escaped the threshold, skyward to a new earth, and seeing a chasm on its surface become a key to unlock it. Telenon turned, unlocking geological locking mechanisms that drifted away, higher than the mountains. In the vault a light emerged so painful as to warrant both hands outstretched for shelter. Rays like spears with a vendetta. Then it was subsided and incorporated into three objects – a tiny sun, earth and moon. His body shuddered from the sight of it. A moment lingered as he waited for its answer. After the rampage of the clouds … this vault and its treasures. The three bounced carelessly, until the selfish earth absorbed the sun and moon. Fire truck red ignited on its continents, along with white lunar seas. Alarming fires sprouted from its geometry. “So, this is it,” thought Telenon. The solar system earth turned to meet its aggressor. It fired a column of flame right at him. Telenon knew he could not give. He made his chest stiff for the blow. At once the column came, its four corners lapping around him like so much insubstantial crimson. Defiance welled in him, “I WILL HAVE YOU!!!”. He stood resolute and the planet took its chance. The column of flame became a waterfall. The orb expanded in all directions, embellished itself with grandiose size. Now the climb became more punishing, enfolding him in abstract flame. The heat intensified, fresh with landforms hotter than the sun. Even so, the man was already thinking one step ahead. “I must become ice to combat the solar earth, '' he whispered. Still, the column extended. The waterfall dropped more of its lifeblood onto him. Yet the arc of his passage was unconsumed, shining through the veil. It was the only move. There would be no negotiation with the inferno. As he reached the limits of the continent his body turned to sculpture. Solid Ice. A flash voyaged from his eyes, blinding everything it came across, extinguishing what was red. He closed his eyes. The insult of the spell was agonizing pain. His chest heaved, invalidating the pressure as it softened. Telenon looked out onto the terrain. An aura thick like tar rose up from the earth. Smoke meandered ceremoniously to the sky. Through his fingers. Around him armies of the inferno with their key swords fell to the ground. They had been ready to fight till the ends of time. Now they would find the ground and sleep in beds of ash. Still his eyes shined, and his body of ice glistened. Mechanisms of many locks unlatched in strange motions inside his spirit body. Tingling and twisting. Adorable rhapsodies. He eagerly smiled.