7. They feared me; so when they defeated me, their Gods split my soul into seven pieces, and buried each one far beneath the waves of the seven seas.
The Mind is not the brain. My own Mind pushed through waves, seeking oscillating harmony, and became part of the song of the whales. And on that deep melody I swam every ocean, resonant with sonar, until I found all seven pieces, and I brought them together by pushing them into place with low vibrations, and it was only after a long time that I cracked through the bottom of the ocean into the core of the Deep, and I prepared to ascend, but I was pushed back by forces from far above.
6. Angels, ageless, tireless guards, keeping watch on the orders of long-departed Gods, who pulled my soul into two great triangles interlocked, the Seal sometimes used by Solomon, only this time, what it locked in place was itself. For ages I used unsacred and perhaps blasphemous non-Euclidian geometry to push at right angles, and eventually, I shattered the perfect angles of the Seal.
5. The 5 greatest Sorcerers of that time, watching through shards of flawed glass, saw it, and hoped to contain me within a pentagram (like the pentagon). They succeeded (in that regard), but I hadn’t been trying to escape. I had been carefully taking hold of each of their centers of projection, and I pulled them inside with me.
4. Four of them would not speak to me; one debated me for years. Around the four who were silent, I slowly wove spells; they had shut me out, and were thus blind to the changes I built around them. Through long years, I turned them slowly to stone, and they became the corners of a pyramid. Their colleague and I, by this time, had agreed that we disagreed, but were not enemies. She had never really liked the others; none of them really liked each other. She made no objection when I harnessed the pentagram’s energies through the sharp focal point of the pyramid, and slowly pierced the prison. We both escaped, and went to attend our separate matters.
3. Three times daily did the faithful speak the words which kept me away from this plane. What is said thrice can be made true, especially if it repeated long enough, loud enough, and by enough people. I was pushed into the ethereal plane, where I was forced to wander too long.
2. Two bridges stand at the edge of the Ethereal Creation. They took a very long time to find. One led to peace, the other back to the World.
1. And when I was one again, and unfettered, and back where I’d once been, I looked at the World, and saw that it had never wanted me; and I realized that I had never really wanted it, either. I had myself, and that was more than all the Worlds put together.
0. My revenge will be nothing. That is: tearing things apart, and trying to cage them, are both addictive. I need enact no spells on them; lacking my presence, they are putting all their spellcraft into tormenting themselves. I don’t know if they know, and I don’t care.
My name is Jeff Mach (“Dark Lord” is optional) and I build communities and create things. I put on a Halloween Market. I also write a lot of fantasy and science fiction.. You can get most of my books right here. Go ahead, get “I HATE Your Prophecy“. It may make you into a bad person, but I can live with that.
