Monday, September 6, 2010

Zxero: The Wandering One


The night was ahush of the ghostly shadow of the moon. Among that, there was a castle as large as life, towering above the trees. It seemed to glow, yet it blended in with the forest, as if it wasn't even there. Around the castle were many organic glowing buildings, white as ever. There were large trees, wider and taller than even the largest sequoia redwood tree. Glowing stairs wound around the trees and led to the top, where there were strange, flowing rooms.

In the glowing white castle lived some of the greatest gods and goddesses of their universe. There were two who owned the castle-- the Goddess of Life, and the God of Death. They represented neither bad nor good, for they were, after all, gods of the known prespectives. They stood among the marble castle floor.
"I'm afraid that Zxero will be slave to the Universe God," said the Life Goddess.
"Of course," said the Death God. "It has failed all the tests, and will end up a non-power. Non-powers become the slaves of powerful gods."
The Life Goddess sighed. "Then I guess we must tell Zxero," she murmered.

The Life and Death Gods began to walk up the mysterious stairs, leading up to an archway. Through the archway, there was nothing to be seen, except for blackness and shining stars. When the gods walked through the archway, it revealed a gloomy, glowing blue room. There was no furniture in the room, but there was only a white orb in the middle. The room was shaped of an octagon, with a floral carpet covering the floor that was asheen of blue light, and red figures. Tiny lights bounced about the room, gloomily hitting the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. But Zxero was nowhere to be seen.
Said the Life Goddess, "I am afraid Zxero is off wandering again."
"Indeed," said the Death God. "Let it wander for now, and if it's not back by midnight, we will have to look for it."

"Wander. . . . . Wander. . . . .
I am here and now...
Yet I am everywhere at once...
I seek no quests or fortune...
Oh, how so alone is I...
Oh, how no gods will capture and take me home...
Oh, how I Wander. . . . . I live my life...
And sing my death.
I am Wandering. . . . . Wandering. . . . ."
Zxero sang in a whisper, and trailed off. It meandered among the trees, humming its own tune. It was fairly tall, with red hair, part of it tied back while the rest hung loose. It wore a long white tunic over loose brown pants. It was nothing like its "parents," the Life and Death Gods, for it had no parents. Zxero had existed long before the Gods.

Zxero went along, letting its mind take it wherever it lead. It was holding a book in its arm, with a pen tucked between the pages. The book was all of Zxero's writings of its imagination, and all of its wanderings through the city of gods, called Zheclanavia. It had seen many people pass through that were "chosen ones," completing quests or coming of age. Zxero had always been the invisible one. The villager, or towns person that always ran away with the crowd, or stood aside as the hero of every tale defeated obstacles, or learned something about life.

But for Zxero, there were no quests to complete, nor duties to turn from simple to amazing. Just wandering and living life the way it came. Zxero watched many happenings, and wrote them down. They were tales about one character going from simple to amazing, or becoming a legendary hero.

Zxero was the Wandering One, and would always be. It would always be the writer of "The Tales." You may think it will somehow turn from Wandering One to legendary, but

Think again...



To be continued...



1 comment:

  1. I like it! It's super-awesome-fantastic-cool-amazing-over-the-top!

    ReplyDelete