Aevenon Cloak
Jan 26th, 2003, 04:29:44 AM
A very slow and repetitive ticking had stirred Aevenon from his sleep. Bid away from his dreams of flight and elation, he had awoken to the cramped Coruscant dwelling which he and Evelyn now called home. As he lay back against the linen sheets and feathered pillow his eyes wandered back and forth over the ceiling, willing it to part and for some divine force to deliver him to Slayn’s side once more. Without the guidance of his maker and master he found little purpose to life and so no direction for him to move. In this space in time he was nothing more than a guardian, a protector to a naïve mind. In this he was content for the most part, though was convinced that fate had more set in stone from him.
He rose, deliberately slowly so as to not wake his companion, and sat on the edge of the weak mattress. A faint sigh escaped his lips as his eyes wandered the small room, able to pick out every angle and curve in the shadows, while the harsh light of the moon caused forms to become distorted and alienated in its radiance. Even his own skin had a pale air of mortality to it as he strained a hand to reach something on the table at the bedside.
It was only on touching the textured leather of the book that he was reassured of his subsistence. Little things like this, sensations, filled him with an awkward happiness that he found himself unsure of and reluctant to express. Never the less he poured what he thought and deduced into the book itself. The cocoon of innocence that surrounded Evelyn was paper-thin and with the slightest of revelations would shatter into scores of membranous pieces, leaving the girl broken. No- it was only his mind whom with he shared his notions. Old fashioned as it was, he took up a pen and pushed its cap off, immediately inking his fingertips a watercolour shade of navy. Not noticing this, he began to write, beginning on the first page with the words:
“I have come to understand the complexities of the universe entirely now.”
Whether or not this statement was true was unknown to Aevenon, though he continued as such:
“It is completely clear to me how mankind exists. By this I do not mean its origins, for these even I cannot deduce, but the thesis on which it lives is clear as crystal. Had I not been borne from the spirit of another I do not think I have conceived such things so easily, however with this glimpse of the bare soul in itself I have concluded this: there is no good to be found in humanity.
As I spoke with the Jedi known as Terran, listening to his explanations of the peacekeepers lives, I was momentarily imbued with hope. Their cause is, on the surface, just and serves a purpose in the universe that no other collective or single being appears to be concerned with. It is my opinion now, however, that these Jedi are no different to their enemies.
All factions within the universe have a single goal, and that is power.
The difference between each is the way in which they strive to achieve it. Those known as darksiders take a direct approach and show their true colours through wanton destruction and heresy. They approach the task at hand with single-mindedness, believing their only bid for power lies in the oppression of the masses through violence. By booting the face of the demos over and over until it can no longer rise to retaliate they hope to seize what tattered remains are left in the wake of their chaos.
Less obvious is the plight of the Jedi. With beliefs founded on the instant opposition of the Darkside, they too strive to eliminate, though their targets are not the innocents of the galaxy (as is the case with Sith and the like). What astounds me is the sheer naivety of the Jedi as they stride, self-righteous, through life. What becomes of the universe once dark forces have been eliminated? If history is to repeat itself, then a new tyrannical power shall be born.
Always in life there are divisions of groups. Those who believe they have a birth rite to be in control, those are controlled by them, and the middle-way people whose aim is to overthrow the autocrats. In removing the persecutors from power the do-gooders leave themselves purposeless. It is then that their attention will turn to the former pawns of the old ‘leaders’. At this moment the benefactors become the malefactors and the Utopia morphs into a Dystrophic hellhole.”
He stopped writing, not out of loss for words, but for the fact that a hot ache had begun to pain his hand. For this reason he stopped for a few minutes, in which time he watched Evelyn as she slept, and allowed his mind to pass into hers to view the vistas that she saw in sleep; the quiet dreamscapes filled with peace, the hope.
“I am convinced of something else now, too. There is another power greater than all those present which too wields the Force for its own devices. It has somehow influenced the masses and left them in a constant state of war – for without war what would occupy the mind? Other pastimes would grow tiresome and fade from interest, leading to paranoia, suspicion and the eventual outbreak of violence. Yes, there must be something, or someone, else that has a hand in the comings of life, and I would wager that this Thing totters on the brink of descending upon us, waiting only for the inevitable implosion of the existing clusters so that it might fully seize power – for powers sake. If this is not it, and everyone’s, motive for obtaining power, then I apologize, but in my short time in verve I have come to believe this is so.”
The thought was beginning to make his stomach churn and head pulse with stress. He looked down at the flowing italic hand, barely legible unless one strained to read it, and quickly pushed the book away, feeling a little better for having dispensed his thoughts.
He rose, deliberately slowly so as to not wake his companion, and sat on the edge of the weak mattress. A faint sigh escaped his lips as his eyes wandered the small room, able to pick out every angle and curve in the shadows, while the harsh light of the moon caused forms to become distorted and alienated in its radiance. Even his own skin had a pale air of mortality to it as he strained a hand to reach something on the table at the bedside.
It was only on touching the textured leather of the book that he was reassured of his subsistence. Little things like this, sensations, filled him with an awkward happiness that he found himself unsure of and reluctant to express. Never the less he poured what he thought and deduced into the book itself. The cocoon of innocence that surrounded Evelyn was paper-thin and with the slightest of revelations would shatter into scores of membranous pieces, leaving the girl broken. No- it was only his mind whom with he shared his notions. Old fashioned as it was, he took up a pen and pushed its cap off, immediately inking his fingertips a watercolour shade of navy. Not noticing this, he began to write, beginning on the first page with the words:
“I have come to understand the complexities of the universe entirely now.”
Whether or not this statement was true was unknown to Aevenon, though he continued as such:
“It is completely clear to me how mankind exists. By this I do not mean its origins, for these even I cannot deduce, but the thesis on which it lives is clear as crystal. Had I not been borne from the spirit of another I do not think I have conceived such things so easily, however with this glimpse of the bare soul in itself I have concluded this: there is no good to be found in humanity.
As I spoke with the Jedi known as Terran, listening to his explanations of the peacekeepers lives, I was momentarily imbued with hope. Their cause is, on the surface, just and serves a purpose in the universe that no other collective or single being appears to be concerned with. It is my opinion now, however, that these Jedi are no different to their enemies.
All factions within the universe have a single goal, and that is power.
The difference between each is the way in which they strive to achieve it. Those known as darksiders take a direct approach and show their true colours through wanton destruction and heresy. They approach the task at hand with single-mindedness, believing their only bid for power lies in the oppression of the masses through violence. By booting the face of the demos over and over until it can no longer rise to retaliate they hope to seize what tattered remains are left in the wake of their chaos.
Less obvious is the plight of the Jedi. With beliefs founded on the instant opposition of the Darkside, they too strive to eliminate, though their targets are not the innocents of the galaxy (as is the case with Sith and the like). What astounds me is the sheer naivety of the Jedi as they stride, self-righteous, through life. What becomes of the universe once dark forces have been eliminated? If history is to repeat itself, then a new tyrannical power shall be born.
Always in life there are divisions of groups. Those who believe they have a birth rite to be in control, those are controlled by them, and the middle-way people whose aim is to overthrow the autocrats. In removing the persecutors from power the do-gooders leave themselves purposeless. It is then that their attention will turn to the former pawns of the old ‘leaders’. At this moment the benefactors become the malefactors and the Utopia morphs into a Dystrophic hellhole.”
He stopped writing, not out of loss for words, but for the fact that a hot ache had begun to pain his hand. For this reason he stopped for a few minutes, in which time he watched Evelyn as she slept, and allowed his mind to pass into hers to view the vistas that she saw in sleep; the quiet dreamscapes filled with peace, the hope.
“I am convinced of something else now, too. There is another power greater than all those present which too wields the Force for its own devices. It has somehow influenced the masses and left them in a constant state of war – for without war what would occupy the mind? Other pastimes would grow tiresome and fade from interest, leading to paranoia, suspicion and the eventual outbreak of violence. Yes, there must be something, or someone, else that has a hand in the comings of life, and I would wager that this Thing totters on the brink of descending upon us, waiting only for the inevitable implosion of the existing clusters so that it might fully seize power – for powers sake. If this is not it, and everyone’s, motive for obtaining power, then I apologize, but in my short time in verve I have come to believe this is so.”
The thought was beginning to make his stomach churn and head pulse with stress. He looked down at the flowing italic hand, barely legible unless one strained to read it, and quickly pushed the book away, feeling a little better for having dispensed his thoughts.