Posted on June 5, 2004 by Jenna
In the Light, they dwelt, and all was bright.
“This is a place of beauty,” said the Twisted Ones. “This is a place of peace. But there is something in our hearts that does not want beauty or peace.”
“You cannot expect us to adapt our ways to your desires,” said the people of the Light.
“Ah,” said the Twisted Ones; for it was so.
So they built ships to cross the void between the worlds. They were cheap and undercrewed.
“If you ride these to the Dark,” the shipmaster said, “you will die in droves. But some of you will live out the journey.”
“Ah,” said the Twisted Ones; for it was so.
And they set forth, one by one, and they died in droves, but some of them lived out the journey. And they came here.
“This is a place,” said the Twisted Ones, “where we may grow small, and smug, and deadly. We will be soulless. We will be killers. We will be filth.”
Yet there was one who spoke up, and said, “We cannot mandate this. We cannot write our malice into the charter for this world. For if we do, we consign ourselves to a tyranny like unto that we left.”
“This is true,” the others allowed. “We must leave ourselves the choice of brightness.”
The one who had spoken bowed his head, for he knew what came next. And they surrounded him, faceless and cold, and his heart grew quiet; and they dashed out his brains upon the rock, and they left him there as the monument to their choice; and it was ten thousand thousand years before the rock grew clean.