by Garret Ford
“No, such thing. If you have a greedy person watching a play- and the hero gives up wealth for love- they think the hero is a fool and that is the dumb ending; while a hopeless romantic will think it is the best ending possible.”
“With a play, you can throw down a curtain whenever you want but in the novel writing, is there a rule against that?” I asked.
“I am not an authority on novels though, I’ve spent my life as a playwright, there might be some cross over in the dramatic sense, but- make your choice.” My instructor said.
“What about a cyclic play.” I asked.
“Birth, Life, Death, Rebirth into infinite swirling starlight. Seems romantic, to be as eternal as the heavens. Anything repeated forever ends up being hell.” My instructor frowned a little as they spoke. “Think about those chaps- Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.”
“What if there are minor changes each cycle?” I asked.
“Maybe- perhaps that would explain Déjà vu? But let us return to our sheep-...” My instructor laughed.
“What is Déjà vu?” I ask.
“You don’t know what Déjà vu is?” They said, eyebrow raised.
The class burst out laughing. I laughed along too, pretending I was joking. But I wasn’t. I hadn’t the foggiest.
Oubliette.
“This is the worst ending- what were you doing!?” He said.
“Why?” I asked.
“The guide- I sent you, didn’t you read it?” He asked.
“No, the guide would have spoiled it.” I said.
“Everything isn’t ending the way it is supposed.” He said.
“How is it all supposed to end then?” I asked.
“You aren’t supposed to marry the black haired one they’re evil, you are supposed to go for the red haired one.” He said.
“I didn’t like the redhaired one.” I said.
“Why not!” He said, offended.
“I just didn’t.” I said, annoyed.
“You should replay properly, using a guide.” He said.
“But I like my ending.” I said.
“It isn’t the ending you were supposed to get, things were supposed to be different. Much different.” He said, shaking his head.
“I am freed from fate, this is the ending I wanted.” I said.
There is gunfire in the distance. The government is raiding the compound. They would be disappointed and pushed back; my cultists were heavily armed, well trained, and loyal to the death. They would hold the line while I activate the resonance chamber.
“The tide rises!” The cultists shouted.
“Blessed are the brave.” I cheered, before I bid them farewell and closed the blast doors.
My cultists marched toward death as if in a parade, fearless, loyal- unflinching. They were my true believers. They knew the truth. Bold, brash, foolish pawns of the government, marching to oblivion- I shall unmake them after I ascend. Too late- I will become eternal.
“The mole was dealt with?” I asked.
“Yes, we used them to calibrate the resonance chamber.” My loyal assistant nodded grimly.
“Anything left?” I asked.
“Physically, yes- intact; Mentally, they are scattered across the seven winds- and perhaps all of time.” My loyal assistant smiled, sadistic.
“All who betray the tide should suffer thus.” I said, nodding with appreciation.
I entered the resonance chamber. My work. All my work, here at last, ready. I put on the resonance helmet, key in the start sequence on my control panel. I take a last look around the laboratory. The barren walls, the mess of wires and cords that made up the floor. My lab assistant running around turning dials and switches and shouting in tongues. It was going to finally happen, maybe this would work, maybe this would kill me, either way, wouldn’t matter soon.
“You ready?” My assistant yells over the sound of gunfire.
“The tide rises.” I yelled back and smiled.
“Long live Aquaria...” My assistant said as the turned they final knobs and dials on the control panel, the door began to close.
Soon I would be sealed inside the resonance chamber.
“It won’t matter. I have to know for myself.” I said as the pod hatch began to close.
“It’s been a pleasure serving with you, Godspeed.” My assistant saluted; the door slammed shut.
30...-- / -----
Now, I am alone.
“God speed!” I shouted back and saluted, knowing fully well that my assistant won’t hear me.
20..--- / -----
The walls of the pod began to vibrate as the tachyon drive flicked online. Through the thick sound-proofed walls I could feel explosions, but not hear them.
10.---- / ----- I laugh to myself and flip the phase switch.
9----.
8---.. I feel the gravity flux that was anticipated.
7--…
6-….
5….. They would be too late
4….-
3…--
2..--- The years of planning in secret, for this moment.
1.---- Namu-Amida-Butsu…---…
0 ----- The resonance cascade begins.
….
.
.-..
.--.
I laugh manically, I transcend. Stand before the Gate, key in hand.
What will I leave behind?Sacrifice.Key opens the lock.
Will I be remembered?A womb or tomb.
Will I be grieved?Seek.Hapax Legomenon.
Will I meet god?The gate is opened.
What have I done?Severed from fate.
Beyond the curtain.The iris opens. The aperture closes.
Life springs from sludge. Nothing changes.
Microbial scurrying. The cycle begins anew.
Awaken old monk, show me the way, I am ready, my eyes open.
Path to the truth. Sacrifice.I escape
Draw the circle.
The cycle renews.
Trial by fire.
Arise, phoenix.
Ascend, godling.
Godspeed…
Rise, awaken.
Amen my lord.
“Oh pumpkin. Why?”
Transcend humanity.
Who will I become when I awaken?
All will cycle again.Sacrifice.
Entrap you within the ring. Break the chain!
The bold rack stands still.Rise, Flammarion curtain! Rise!
Until you take the final step.Sacrifice.
All was never created,
Always has been, always will be,
Cycling, as the tide,
Horror beyond horror.
Transcendence.
THE TIDE RISES!
The tide falls.
Requires the greatest sacrifice.
Sacrifice. Arise.
Ascension.
Am I becoming a god?
Jaws agape, the sapient.
Fallen star’s flight.
The abyss consumes light.
Aeon old darkness. Great void. Timeless abyss.
Surely as night follows day, the void comes.
Seraph dare not follow in my wake.
The cycle begins anew.
I am in the sky, watching.
I am the guardian, waiting.
Painter. Architect. Destroyer.
Rise, damned thing. Robe, Blade, Bell,
Orchard burn, sown anew, watered tears of widows and children.
The beautiful thing might grow again.
Sweet and corrupting.
Taste acquired by original sin.
Alas, for a mother like Lilith rather than Eve.
Poor damned fools.
A ship of fools.
The gyre. Further and further.
I walk on the moon, blue marble glows intensely, falls silent.
A whisper on the ether. Who invokes my name?
I am the gyre. I am the void.
The shattered mirror reflects all that gaze.
I ch
arge the rising abyss;
Armed with comedy and tragedy.
I am bidden, my spirit fills furious fearful flesh.
I spring to life wailing, and weeping.
The stars go out.
The midnight wanderer returns.
Flesh flees from sundered souls.
A new color arrives and wretched fecundity blooms.
A lilting tune. Too distant to dream.
I live! I love!
I suffer! What joy!
…--
Journey forth and explore; the world is wild, wide, and wise- you can only see as much as you let yourself perceive. The good times, the bad times, the strange times- all pass into old times. The scenes change, I leave the casual comedy, but the play keeps going, but we are no longer needed on. We all become Yorick.
I am a doomed actor, on a crumbling stage, in a meaningless production, surrounded by countless other clueless actors, playing to an empty house. I am not alone, you are here with me, clueless or aware it makes no difference. You, gentle reader, you are the watcher. You decide the journey- you have the awareness, which means you have the responsibility.
The sun is shining, the sky is blue, the music in the car is equal to the music in my heart. I turn off the highway onto a winding single lane mountain road. The adventure begins, Jonah entering the whale. Mighty snowcapped slumbering titans with gardens of green growing from their slumbering rocky backs. The mountains remind me of my own cosmic smallness. And the sublime beauty of exactly that- to be that piece of cosmic dust- drifting through space.
We get out of my car and grab our backpacks.
We stretch. “Ready for the trail?” I ask.
“Looks a bit rough today. It rained last night.” They said.
“Makes for a longer hike.” I said, confident.
“Don’t cry about your sore feet tomorrow.” They said.
“I won’t.” I laugh.
“Life is the dream that we believe. Our so-called dreams, are rejected, causing us to return to this dream. We all have godlike powers in our dreams, warping the nature of the world around us to our whims, experiencing the pinnacles of heaven and the pits of hell.” They said.
“That means we are all waking gods then- Reminds me of the fourth dimension, planar reality. The topic of my book. Don’t worry, it is hard to explain down here. Never fear, from the mountain top it will make sense. All is as it must be.” I said smiling.
I didn’t know what the day would bring. That was the best part. The road stopped at the beginning of the trail up the mountain. There was a rusted sign caught in the underbrush were the road washed out and was abandoned. No doubt knocked down by another passerby. I turned over the rusted sign, faded by rain, wind, and overgrowth- it read a single word.
End.
