The slow trip through the valley of despair. It is a trip that can only be made alone. In a room full of people the battle is fought, flowing, ebbing, wasting. So close in proximity, so far in warmth. To those that make this journey it is a trip made not of their own volition. The trip is forced by the journey they first started. A journey made difficult by the hazards of man and environment. Life. A life started in pain. Pain of self and pain of maturity. Maturity often achieved too soon.
For some the initial pain only fades to be replaced by more of a greater or lesser degree. Thus the pain becomes a fog separating the traveler from their fellows. Thus begins the trip through the valley. With help the traveler feels the warmth. If they allow the warmth to draw them it will burn away the fog, cast off the despair. The trip is interrupted. Who but the conductor of man could know the depth of sadness and the height of elation.
As the sun sets on the light of my life I realize that the darkness is now closer than ever. The darkness not visible in an open room. Only visible past the shutters that cover the soul. This darkness once exposed will consume all. Now is the challenge. That which will consume must be understood, for it can not be fought. To win the battle life must be embraced. No matter the depth or density of the darkness we weave it is invariably the pain we have suffered that gives us the strength to live our lives.
Man sits in his judgment of the earth and the stars, as if to decide their fates. This is mans first great sin, to say that you rule over a kingdom that you neither protect nor serve bespeaks of revolt. Protect those that served you that is the duty of all faithful children to their mother and father. As it is know that Mother and Father serve all of their children to pain of death.
When the final ruling comes where will the children be. Will they be at the side of mother and father earth. Serving their faithful duty. One can only hope that when that day comes she will be comforted to her death by the company of man. Eased into a pain less sleep.
In the knight the beacon shone, brighter than any star in the havens on this stormy knight. To reach the shore this very knight I had promised my lady fair. Not Poseidon himself would keep me from port this knight. Her heart and soul she promised me for all eternity. I vow now and forever that this, the worst storm of my recollection shall not cause me a solemn vow to break.
Tied to the wheel I watch as waves pound the ship washing all not tied down to was into the sea. I hear my hull buckling under this pounding, I will not accept defeat. I will the ship to hold together. The main mast snaps as a twig under the wheel of a wagon. I call upon the earth mother to welcome me to her warm bosom.
I know that my fair stands just beyond the light that beacons me home. The ship holds course, where it not for that sacred light I know not how I would have found my way home. Shortly I will make port, as low in the water I am getting. She will hold together, as I will see my love.
I am entering port as I behold that my love stands beside the lighthouse, her light, her eternal love guiding me to her. This night I vow to all heaven and earth that we shall be forever wed.
The ship founders, no longer able to sustain the terrible damage being done. I care not, as the light pulls me home, over the waves of harm. To the arms of the woman, my bride, my love. Forever we are together protecting those that work the sea and those that worry over those.
I stand as the last male warrior of my clan the rest lay dead at my feet amongst a virtual sea of enemies, we stood before the first wave of barbarians. The rest now prepare to charge, seemingly reluctant to charge again. I can not imagine that they know fate of my kinsman. For if they did, I do not imagine they would be so reluctant to charge my position.
What our choice on night of that waning moon, our clan was to be forever changed by this choice. Our warriors to stay at the choke point in the pass and hold as long as we could. We would delay the marauders as long as we could, so the clan could escape. I stand now leaning on my sword passed to me by my father as it was to him. A grand claymore many generations old and legends tell that none in our family have died welding it in battle.
I know that I will not fail, for the life of my kin rest in my hands. Fully half of the able bodied men stayed as we entered the pass, our decision to hold where we stood came with no small price. Those that I love would be made to live without me soon. My only ligh in this though was that other they would not live at all.
The wind was shifting, I could sense the change in the air. They would attack soon, of this I was certain. I readied myself not for battle, but for death as it would be my only end at this point. I would take many more with me on my final journey, but their was no doubt in my mind that i would not live to see the next moon rise. I raised my graight sword as I heard them yell. Ten by three they came towards me yelling as barbarians do. The sword was an extension of my arm as it sliced through the air. They had all fallen at my feet when I awoke from the battle frenzy. Not but I could believe my eyes.
Their stood but one warrior as he was not part of the other. He advanced slowly and purposfully towards me. This one alone showed cunning and skill. He raised a shield and a axe. Together he put them pounding a rhythm that I could feel in my heart. His axe and shield began to glow as he summoned their power, with a scream and a leap he was on me. I could not even bring my blade to bear before he was inside my swords arc. I was to be dead when the axe struck my chest. But at theat point my weapon began to glow as well. I pushed the barbarian off me, he fell back in surprise. My sword leapt into the air cleaving him in two. The last of the barbarians had fallen, my job done.
I returned to my people to tell the story of my battle. Perhaps they would not have believed me where it not for the wound in my chest. My last act was to give my glory to the senashal for inclusion in the clan history for my death was near when I returned to my people. I managed I am glad to pass the sword to my eldest son who will I hope be old enough to weild it one day.
I could feel her breath, her lips close to mine. My hand runs lightly down her arm. The sensation of touching her was exilerating. My head pounded my pulse quickened. She didn't move an inch. Her face impassive. No voice to say no. no will to ask for more. My hand slowly reached for her lips. Gently did I brush them. Her eyes closed ever so slightly as she gasped. Oh how I longed to embrace her drawing her close to me, to feel the warmth and heat of her body.
That embrace so far away, so distant. So desired was this embrace, so needed. But the time was not yet right. She burned me with my own desire. Her scent filled me as I moved closer, not touching that which was so much a part of my being. My hands again gently touched her. Her neck so warm, as I felt the breath she took. My hand gently slowly moving to her ear. Small circles my hand made as her eyes closed. Her head tilted back as my arms encircled her. Her closeness intoxicated me as my lips pressed against her neck. One by one my kisses worked their way up her neck.
Her breathing quickened as her arms drew me closer. I can feel her excitement as her breasts move against my chest. The silky feel of her nightgown betraying her desires. My hands gently pull the gossamer material upwards. My hands moving up the back of her leg, shifting slowly deliberately to her inner thigh. Now her desire was as evident as my own. A low moan escaped her lips as my hand hesitated over her warmth. The other hand moving up her trembling stomach en circling first one breast then the other. Her erect nipples tracing lines in her silvery nightgown.
The darkness invades abruptly, the moon dims. Dis oriented, I look to see that once again I am in my room. Once again the mistress of the moon has visited me. Once again I have been spirited off by the concerns of reality, unfulfilled.
I watched her from the clearing where she was sleeping. She was a Khan. Like all Khan's she would have looked human had it not been for a light coat of fur and a short tail. Beautiful by my standards, it was a shame she had gone feral. She was a real man-eater. Her kind had been created for sport, and eventually given their freedom. Added to the endangered species list, and protected on federal game reserves. Only to be killed if they drew human blood.
I had known her as a child, she had been gentle and friendly. Times have changed. And now I would have to kill an old friend. I would have to do it I told myself, but not this day. My business would wait for another day. Quietly I left the clearing. She would not attack again this day, I would rest for what would be a long and tiring hunt. I returned to my bungalow and undressed. I was soon fast asleep. What an exhausting day.
I awoke suddenly reaching for my rifle, too slow. It was not laying against the bed as I had left it. Damn, bad news I thought as I scanned the room. I barley noticed the shadow in the corner. Jet black was her fir. It was her, my prey. She had me dead to rights. She stood there not moving. I didn't move a muscle, she could kill me without a problem. She could easily have thrown me around the room like a child's toy.
I feared her strength. A low growl escaped her lips. Then, suddenly she covered the length of the bungalow in one springing leap. I was pinned under the weight of her body, I was unable to move. She had me, she could do anything she wanted and their was nothing I could do about it. Her jaws clamped down on my throat, but the killing blow never came. She was playing some sort of sick game, sweat began running down my face. When she removed her teeth from my, I felt the warmth of my own blood running down my neck.
She didn't kill me, what could she want?; What could this savage animal possibly have in mind for me?; It was then that I noticed her moving against me. Was she doing this on purpose?; Then my question was answered, as she began pushing harder against me. She was attempting to arouse me. If that happened I would be dead, for that was the penalty for a human mating with any freak. The church had even declared it a sin.
She was becoming instant, growling deeply. Her rhythm was exact, and matched the sound she was making. My body was reacting, blood rushing my color deepening. I could not break free for she was too strong. As I struggled, she smiled. She was reveling in my fear. The more I struggled, the more aroused I became. She was enjoying this, my pain, my fear, my arousal.
Her sweet scent was filling my being. I stopped struggling, trying to move myself inside her. She wouldn't have it. She reared up on her hind legs drawing blood with a swipe of her claws. Reality bashed me in the face, this was real and she could kill me. She could do so on a whim with the hesitation. Quickly her mouth moved to my throat, her teeth closing tight. It was becoming harder and harder to breath. The she took me inside her.
I would have screamed if I had the breath. Her movements where rhythmic, I could no longer think. I was close, on the edge, even as I felt the warmth of my own blood on my chest. The room was spinning. She was beating incredible drums in my head. Her scent filled my nose, her grunting filled my ears, and she wrapped me in her warmth. She kept me on the edge, her mystic powers numbing my body. For hours she was their doing her dance, leading her choir, bringing me to incredible heights. She changed the dance, in that moment I exploded, filling her. Then her teeth closed on my neck.
The last memory I have of that night is a shadow moving across the room and the grayness closing in. I was in the hospital for weeks. When I finally recovered, I went back to the preserve. This time there would be no mistake. It took me a month, but I finally bagged her.
I awoke to darkness, to see nothing, to hear nothing. I don't remember how I got here. Hours pass, or had they. Time has lost meaning to me in this place. I could feal a presence in this place. It fealt female of that I was almost certain.
The great light cathode showed me that life among the stars or here on earth. Could go on with boldness and proceed in total logic. What in this grand view of life could not be done, with all in equality as even today we have not done.
This truth is not without pain. All truth comes with a price, and logic is no different. Life in logic removes its followers from humanity.
I stand on the bridge of the elite flag ship of our people (Elficshi) Guashidira (Emperors Sword) watching the advance of our enemy. My son had been correct all along, and it had cost him his life. He had said that the ancient texts had warned that we would be stuck a might blow should we attempt to conquer the Ogrephem.
It had been our intent to conquer their primitive race and use them as manual labor on our work farms. It seemed a task that they where well suited for. As they are large and seemingly slow witted. This however had not been the case. They had been studying our science teams, as we where studying them. They had apparently achieved much in the way of technology and chose to abandon its use.
It is far too late to worry of such things now. For as I watch the monitors, yet another vessel begins to show signs of fatigue. It will not be long before I am faced to make decisions that I do not wish to make.
I am being forced to slow the fleet to match the speed of the slower vessels. We still outrun the Ogrephem fleet but the margin closes more and more with each passing day. The central vessels in the convoy of ships that are fleeing our home world are Super Transports. These ships where made far too quickly, and where already breaking down. Many of our combat vessels have taken heavy fire, including my own.
After most of our government was destroyed, I as the ranking military officer have been placed as as Emperor. I along with the newly established council have but one goal at this time. Our goal is to escape the Ogrephem and possibly find a new planet.
As I watched warning indicators on three vessels lit slowly climbing the color scale, the computers estimated six hours before they where rendered crippled. Soon we would have to tern and fight while the civilian vessels continued on. Computer simulations estimated a best case 40% loss of civilian vessals and 40% loss of combat vessels. The military mind in him said that these where very good odds. But these where all that remained of his people, they could no longer be considered percentages.