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E * N * D * G * A * M * E
PROLOGUE
Game's Beginning
THE REPORT
It is hard, this waiting. We know the Event is near. All signs point
to it. He is coming, and he cannot be far away. Emrys says his horse
is pure white, a color that reduces even our purest snow to a dirty,
dingy gray. Emrys says a lot as he stands at the window peering out.
Aaron sits in the corner, pensive, waiting, his dark hair flopping
disconsolately over dark eyes. There is a definite uncertainty about
him, even after all he has done. He led the Resistance against the
forces of the dragons; he reassured; he wrote; he prayed--and yet he
is disconsolate. He knows he is ready, but he also knows his own
thoughts, both pure and unclean. How will he meet his King? The
question is written on his face, even if it remains unspoken. Katrina
remains with him constantly, her presence reassuring him only
slightly. I see him crying on occasion, and I cannot blame him.
I feel like crying myself.
We stand in the presence of incredible, overwhelming glory, but these
messengers and soldiers are nothing compared to the King who comes.
If we are overwhelmed in the presence of these, what shall we do when
he comes-- the prince whose eye can pierce any heart; who knows the
thoughts of all men? How shall we face the one who defeated the
dragon-king in single combat?
If it is hard to wait, it is even harder to believe we once doubted
the truth of our tale. There were many times when I wondered if I
were fighting on the right side. Were we really right, or were we
just battling the enemy over a bunch of myths? It is hard to know.
The question weighs even harder on Aaron, I'm afraid--or not the
question, but the fact that he asked himself, and spent months
agonizing over it. Now, he is faced with the warriors of the light,
and he wonders how he could have ever asked it.
I've told him several times that we all wondered, but he was the
leader, and he judges himself harshly.
I've talked with the General at length. He will not tell me much
about the War's beginning, but has told me a lot about the war's
end -- those parts we were not able to see, the small intricacies of
war that mean so much. And, though I don't know if anyone will be
able to read this, I have attempted to set the details down.
He will tell me nothing of what is to come after the war's end, but
maybe someone will find good use for this text--if only to acknowledge
how the war began, how it was conducted, and how the genius of a King
and his love for his subjects conquered the most evil foe that ever
existed.
This, my reader, is the Great Story, the story after which all others
are modeled.
It began, as with all tales, in the beginning.
THE KING
Before anything existed, the King lived.
They were three in one, and one in three, perfect in unison and
harmony. There was the Father, the Creator and Ruler; the Son, the
Prince of Peace and Love; and the Spirit, the Counselor and Overseer.
They were like nothing else, for there was nothing else.
The King did not choose to be as he was; he simply was. He was
uncreated.
And he was happy.
The three elements of his spirit dwelled in perfect harmony, each
loving the other equally and boundlessly. Their happiness was
great, and endless, and yet they decided to expand it even further,
by creating.
"What shall we create?" the Prince thought.
"Love," the Father replied.
The Spirit grew still in reverence. "How shall we create that which
we are?" it asked, not in dissent but exploration.
"We shall make a miniature copy of ourselves," the Father thought.
"This copy will not be like us in its stuff--it shall be finite, or
with a beginning. But it shall be like us in that it may choose
between love and unlove."
The Prince thought with excitement. "And we will be able to share
with it, and laugh with it, and dance with it, and we shall be happy!
And perhaps we shall make more, and they shall dance and laugh
together!"
The Spirit thought next. "We shall think this through carefully, for
we shall have to make the perfect stage for our great drama."
The Father imagined for a moment. They were dealing with something
that had never existed before, and the rules must be made carefully
and perfectly. "We are uncreated, yet this shall not be so. It shall
have a beginning. Therefore, we must create something that will
measure it. We shall create time, so that the drama may move in an
orderly fashion."
"They shall need a place to live," the Prince thought, "a stage upon
which to act."
"We shall create Space," the Father said aloud. "Let it be!"
The voice of a human is insubstantial, and yet it can be recorded,
and replayed, and the recording passed on to others. The Voice of
the King is recorded in the Galaxy. The command for space was the
first spoken word, and from it sprang a small playground. The Voice
became what humans would later call matter, or stuff, and it was a
subset of the King's own being.
"Now, let us ponder our image," the Spirit's thoughts whispered as
they moved over their creation. "He will need a purpose to life; a
reason to choose between Good and Evil."
"Will he not simply be Good?" the Prince wondered.
"Love must be given freely for it to be of worth," the Father thought.
"Will he not give it? Is it not Wise?"
"But he will be finite," the Spirit thought. "He will not know
everything, for he will be exploring what we have made. He will never
reach the same plane of knowledge as ours, for we have existed long
before him, and we have created all he must learn. Forever will he be
exploring our character, of which his is a reflection."
"This is Good, for we are Good," the King thought. "And we cannot
create him with all our wisdom, for we are uncreated. No one can be
like us."
"So he must have be given examples of love," the Prince thought. "He
must be given a reason to love us."
"Life shall have three elements," the Father thought. "Physical,
mental, and spiritual. The spirit shall be closest to us, with the
choice to love us. The mental shall have an understanding of the
world about itself, how he must act in order to live, and be an
interface between the body and the spirit. And the physical shall be
the farthest from us, and how it deals with its world will be a
reflection of the love the spirit shall feel."
"This is Good," the Prince thought. "Then, let us create the world
first, and place the one inside it."
"They shall have five senses in their physical bodies: sight, sound,
touch, smell, and taste," the Spirit thought.
"Light, then, is first," the Prince thought.
"Let there be light!" the Father Spoke.
And light sprang into existence, caused by the Voice of the King.
Darkness fled before it. The Creator flowed in the light, and
thought, "It is Good. The light, then, is Day; the darkness is
Night."
They walked in their creation for the space of a day. In what the
King termed the evening, darkness returned. With what he called
dawn the lightly slowly came, bringing the first dawn. They sang
with the beauty, pleased with their creation.
With the next day's work before them, the King began. "Let there be
a separation, and let one side be called Heaven and the other Earth."
In an instant, the universe and the heavenly realm were formed.
Each witnessed to the glory of the King, a creation of unmitigated
beauty. One, the smaller universe, was silent and dark, like a
crystal jewel. The other, Heaven, became the seat of the King's
glory, and shone all around with His light. And he found it Good.
And in the universe, a small planet was. "This shall be the Great
Stage," the spirit whispered. "Upon this shall we place our image,
and give him life."
"Yes," the Father whispered as well, but his eye looked away, and saw
something more.
On the third day land was formed on the tiny planet. "Our image," the
Spirit thought with glee, "can sit here on land, but he can swim in
the oceans as well, and he shall take pleasure in this."
"And our next creation shall need land to grow, but water to feed,"
the Prince thought. "So this is good."
"Let the earth sprout grass, and brush, and trees, and fruit, and
seeds." And it was so. Life sprang up on the earth--the very first
life. The trees waved their branches in the wind, praising their
creator.
"Is this our image?" the Prince wondered.
"No, this is our creation, but not our image," the Spirit thought.
So the third day passed, and the fourth dawned. "They shall need a
source for the light that surrounds them," the Prince thought.
"Let their be lights in the heavens!" the Father Spoke.
The sun, moon, and planets sprang into existence, and in the distance
more lights appeared as well. The angels took places in the sky,
surrounded by glory and light which humans would later call gas and
thermonuclear reaction. In heaven, angels took other places, as
servants before the King.
"Are these our creation?" the Prince asked again.
"No, these will be the guardians of creation, who shall preserve
order. But these are spirit, and they have more power than shall our
creation."
"It is Good," the Prince thought.
On the fifth dawn, the Father announced, "Today we shall make life."
The Prince shouted for joy, and the Father smiled. "It shall not be
our final creation, but these shall serve as pets and parts of the
world for our image to wonder at and love us for."
"Let the waters teem with swarms of living creatures," the Father
called, "and let birds fly above the earth in the open expanse of
the heavens."
A great cry was heard, and when the Prince looked, he saw what would
later be called an eagle. A fish jumped in a lake, and a whale
cruised through the depths. "It is Good," whispered the Spirit, as
they watched others pass by them.
"Be fruitful, and multiply," the Father blessed them. "Fill the
waters and the seas, and may the birds fly through the skies and
roost in the land."
On the sixth day, the King rose to pass over the land. All was
still at his coming, all bowing in deep reverence. Today would be
the last day of creation; the last and greatest of them all.
Tomorrow they would rest, but today they would form their image.
"Let the earth bring forth living creatures after their kind: cattle
and creeping things and beasts of the earth."
The Voice spoke, and all was as commanded.
They watched the animals for a little while, and then the three
collected on a small hillside. The King, the Great Three in One,
the Great One in Three, the Omnipotent, Omniscient, Immortal spirit
from whom all knowledge and substance came, knelt on the ground of
his creation. Carefully he dug out a supply of clay. He paused
before he began the careful sculpture.
"Let us make man in our image," he said slowly, "according to our
likeness. Let them rule over the fish of the sea, and over the
birds of the sky, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and
over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth."
Carefully he began to sculpt.
He took time. The job required more than half a day -- not because
he couldn't have simply spoke man into existence, but because he
stopped often, adding an artistic touch here and there, feeling the
clay between his fingers, molding his creation to be not only right,
but good.
Finally, he stepped back, and picked his creation up in a single
infinite hand. Holding it down by its feet, he drew close, eyeing the
tiny face carefully. The King at last nodded in satisfaction, and
whispered, "I am--and, therefore, you are." Carefully, he breathed.
Man opened his eyes.
THE DRAGON
Time would pass. The angelic guardians kept order in the universe,
flitting back and forth, watching man as he grew. Adam kept Eden
carefully, he and his wife, and they walked with God in the garden.
Lucifer watched the throne. He was perfect in his creation, the ruler
of the angels. He was a dragon, and he was beautiful. His great
wings spread over the throne, protecting it although there was nothing
to protect it against. It was an awesome sight: the great dragon
hovering over the incredible glory of the King.
But it was not enough.
Lucifer wished to rule. He watched angels and humans calling the
King, "Master," and wished they would say the same to him.
At length, he spoke with another angel about it. The angel was
flattered the great Lucifer, the son of the morning, would speak with
him, and he barely listened to the implication's of the dragon's sweet
words.
Slowly, Lucifer began to build a following.
THE GENERAL
Michael was an archangel, like Lucifer. He led the armies of heaven;
the guardians of the realm, and the General began to notice something
was out of place.
The angel began to notice something about Lucifer's song: the beat
seemed to draw more attention the the dragon's light-reflecting wings
than to the light itself. Moreover, as Michael watched, several of
the angels were watching Lucifer, rather than the King.
He wondered if it were just his imagination. Quietly he approached
the throne on the far side, where Lucifer would not see him, and
discussed it with his King.
The King's voice bore a quiet tone. "Evil is working."
The General stopped, perplexed. Evil, in Heaven? But the King knew
all things, and the General knew better than to question. Without
speaking to anyone else, he began to keep a quiet watch on the dragon.
THE KING
"Father, why?" the Prince asked, and for the first time, there were
tears in his eyes. "Lucifer is beautiful! He is the finest of the
angels."
"Remember, my Prince, what we said--that our image would have a
choice between good and evil?"
"Yes," the Prince said.
"Sooner or later, one would, even must, choose evil."
"But how could they?" the Prince asked. "Why would they? It's
so... so unwise."
"But they do not know that," the Father thought. "They are not
infinite in their knowledge, and do not understand the consequences of
evil. They see only what they gain immediately."
"Can we not show them what evil is, and will do?" the Spirit
thought. "Can we show them how it will lead to death?"
"We cannot force a decision on them," the Father thought. "And
someone would eventually make the choice, no matter what we
demonstrated. But if one makes the free choice now, others will see
what happens to him, and they shall take warning."
"So we lose the most beautiful of the angels?" the Prince thought.
"He will become the most beautiful of examples," the Spirit thought.
"We must not cast him away yet," the Father thought. "He has not yet
fallen."
THE DRAGON ARMY
Lucifer began to conceive a plan in his mind. "I shall be like the
Most High," he thought. "I shall ascend into the heavens."
Carefully, working with followers, their actions hid from the angels
and thought hidden from the King, Lucifer began to craft swords from
the darkness, answers to the King's sword of light.
THE SPY
Arrel was a close, trusted friend of Michael's, and the first to whom
the General revealed his fears. Arrel repledged his oath of loyalty
immediately, reassuring Michael that the young angel was still on the
side of the King, and then began to carry out the General's orders.
So it was that he, hidden in the brush, was the first to catch sight
of Lucifer's legions. The commanders of the dragon army led fully a
third of heaven's hosts in the making of new swords crafted from
darkness.
As he watched, the dragon force trained itself in battle and laid
their plans. They would attack the outlying heavenlies in a little
under two days, Arrel saw, coming in from the western side, opposite
the throne, where the heavenly hosts were few in number. They would
plow straight through until they reached the Throne.
Arrel nearly laughed at the audacity of their plan. Throw the King
off the Throne? It would be impossible. Evil had corrupted their
minds until they were no longer wise, and not even intelligent.
Still, a number of angels would be destroyed, unless the information
got to Michael.
Slowly, Arrel backed out of the brush, crept through the forest until
he was three hours' travel from the fallen angels. Careful not to
alert the humans to his presence, he unfolded his wings and drifted
quietly into the sky, heading for the heavenly command post.
THE GENERAL
Michael nodded at the information, then pulled his commanders into
conference. For the first time, he broke news of the attack.
"Several of our brothers seek to take over the Kingdom," the General
told them. "They will attack at dawn in two days, on the western
side."
"The Hosts of Heaven can meet them," Emrys, the second commander
under Michael said. "But if I may--I have an idea."
"Speak your thought," the General said, fixing his eyes on the angel.
"Why not pull all but the frontal squads out of the western side, and
let the enemy move through into the Throne area? When confronted, the
squads can retreat rapidly as well, serving as a further lure," Emrys
explained. "Once the enemy has penetrated to our front door, as it
were, the host of heaven can leap from hiding and surround them."
"It is a good plan," Michael decided. "That is what we shall do."
THE SPY
Arrel watched the commanders depart from the conference, and noticed
one drop away from the heavenly areas and head toward Earth. A sick
feeling in the general region of what would be his stomach were he
human, the angel folded his wings and, trailing no light, followed
after him.
Commander Nemak landed in the forest and began walking steadily
toward Lucifer's base camp. An hour from the camp Arrel stepped out
of the brush and stood directly in the path, his hand on his sword.
"Where are you going, Commander?" Arrel asked softly.
Nemak knew the game was up. Slowly, he drew his sword. He was
perhaps a foot taller than Arrel, but that made little difference. In
rebellion against the King, he could expect no spiritual assistance,
but this little angel could.
"I asked where you were going," Arrel said once more, drawing his
sword as well.
Nemak snorted and lunged. Arrel sidestepped neatly, crossing his
sword to block the blow. Nemak whirled, thought of retreat, then
abandoned the idea. He stabbed again, this time aiming at Arrel's
feet. The angel was far quicker, parrying and returning the blow.
"We shall win," Nemak said, speaking for the first time, his breath
coming in short bursts. "We know your plans."
"Correction," Arrel said easily, not breathing hard at all. "YOU
know our plans. And you shall not alert Lucifer to them."
"When I do not reach him, he will know trouble has risen."
"But he shall not know the nature of the trouble," Arrel replied. He
lunged, his sword dipping to the attack. "Why, Nemak? We are as
brothers!"
The fallen spirit made no reply. His dark beard seemed to quiver in
uncertainty as he traded blows with Arrel. At length, he spread his
wings and shot for the air, but Arrel flew after him. Spirit-wind
gave speed to the angel's wings, and they collided in the air.
Nemak's sword swung over Arrel, and missed. Arrel's sword dipped
under, and met its mark. Nemak exploded in a shower of dark fog and
was gone.
Now breathing heavily, simply for the historical value of the event,
Arrel sheathed his sword and sank to the ground. It had been the
first conflict between the two forces. He rested for a time, but
heard the pitter-patter of human feet approaching. No matter what, he
could not let them see him; could not let them understand what was
happening. Evil had to be contained.
He wondered why Lucifer hadn't already challenged the humans. Maybe
the fallen angel was prepared to rule without changing the rules.
Arrel doubted it; decided it was only a matter of time. The spy in
their ranks, however, had been dealt with. It was time to return to
Michael.
THE KING
"They are fighting, my Prince," thought the Counselor.
"The war between good and evil has begun," the Father agreed.
"My father, must they fight?" the Prince asked. "Can we not stop
them? Can we not destroy evil?"
"If we destroy evil, we take away their choice," the Father
answered. "Love must be given freely to be of value."
"Should we destroy them?"
"They have made their choice, and their death will come to them in
time, as the laws of the universe decree," the Counselor intoned.
"Nevertheless, they can still serve as a lesson to the universe."
"This is good," the Father said.
THE DRAGON ARMY
"Nemak has not returned," Commander Apollyon informed Lucifer. The
huge angel was nearly as large as the dragon, and stood very erect,
despite the sheer audacity of what they were planning. "The heavenly
armies must be alerted to our presence and our plot."
"Not necessarily," Lucifer said. "Nemak may be merely taking
advantage of his position to set something up for us. Are you
suggesting we abandon our plan?"
"No, my lord," Apollyon said, bowing. "Merely that we advise
caution."
"There is little we can be more cautious about," the dragon said
languidly. "We attack at dawn, as we had planned."
THE GENERAL
"They are coming, anyhow," Arrel announced, winging in from the
western perimeter. "The scouts have sighted them."
"Good," the General said. "We can perhaps contain and destroy this
threat for all time."
Both of them looked at each other, and both knew the war wouldn't be
solved so easily.
THE DRAGON ARMY
"The first scouts are retreating!" Apollyon said, hailing his
master. "They fled before our swords!"
Lucifer smiled, his breath smoking. The great dragon looked more
beautiful this morning than ever before, his crystal scales reflecting
the light in rays of diamond-like quality. "Of course," Lucifer
said. "The warriors of heaven are used to peace."
Apollyon held his sword aloft, and it began to glow with a reddish
tint. "Onward!" he cried, and the army of shadows moved forward.
THE GENERAL
"Steady, now. All rest in the glory of the Throne. It will hide us."
Michael stood, his wings held around him, his sword in his hand.
When Arrel glanced at him, he could read his General's lips. "Why,
Lucifer? Why?"
.pg
THE KING
"Will this work, my Father? Will they overcome the Dragon?"
"Not here, and not now," the Father thought. "But the dragon shall be
driven from heaven."
"What remains, then, for the Dragon to be defeated?" the Counselor
wondered.
"That depends," the Father thought.
"I would do anything to save these little humans," the Prince said.
"Oh, I hope they will not turn to serve Lucifer."
The Father remained silent, listening to the Prince.
THE DRAGON
"And now," whispered Lucifer greedily. "Now shall I raise my throne
above the stars of God, to sit on the mount of assembly in the
recesses of the north. Now shall I ascend above the clouds, and
become like the Most High."
THE GENERAL
"Steady. Steady..."
THE THRONE ROOM
The dragon army swarmed in, Lucifer and Apollyon in the lead.
Lucifer lifted his sword aloft and headed for the Throne.
Cherubim swooped down to defend the throne. Lucifer stabbed one,
and it fell before him, wounded to unconciousness. "I have come to
rule," Lucifer announced brazenly, staring up at the King.
The King only laughed. "Little angel," he cried between tears and
chuckles, "reconsider."
"Your angels have fled," Lucifer continued. "There are none to
defend you. I have you outnumbered, and demand your surrender."
"Little one," the King said softly, "how can a finite creature
outnumber infinity? Moreover, look around you."
The rebel leader turned, and found Michael's forces stood behind
him. The hosts of heaven still remained, and they were angry.
Very angry.
Lucifer turned, desperation in his voice. "Die, Adonai!" he
screamed, and leaped headlong at the throne, his dark scimitar
extended.
Michael stepped around the throne. White fire blazed from his sword
as his blow caught Lucifer's and threw the rebel aside. As the
hosts clashed desperately below, Michael and Lucifer hovered above,
exchanging blows.
"Why, Lucifer?" Michael asked, his voice caught with tears.
"Because I wished to be praised. I wish to rule!" Lucifer's face
was a mask of stone.
"You do not understand," the general said. "You cannot be like the
King, for you are a created, finite creature! You cannot rule the
universe."
"No!" howled Lucifer. "I shall rule! I shall be God!"
He drew back from Michael, and changed. Shadows collected around him,
and then the dragon hovered before the angel. Black smoke and flame
belched from his mouth to surround the General. Michael felt the
pain, lost his balance, twisted one of his great cream-colored wings,
and fell. Lucifer turned and dived toward the throne. Michael
gasped, drew himself together, and plunged after him.
A violent wind reached out and grabbed the fallen host.
Anger. Holy Anger. Lucifer felt it whipping all around him; felt the
price of his rebellion and howled in fury. Light blazed around him,
and he inclosed himself in shadow. Still the light cut through,
piercing his guard, changing him, throwing him out.
"You are no longer a part of heaven," a voice said. "You have desired
to be like the Most High, and evil has won you. But Evil has not won
the war."
Lucifer found himself falling toward Earth, cast out of heaven, and
heard himself screaming in agony.
And still he cursed the King.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
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12/18/88 -- JUSTIN LONG
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