Title: The Stars Began to Burn
Author: Garnet Filigree
Rating: PG – it's incredibly tame
Spoilers: Um…no, not really
Pairing: Use your imagination! I'm being deliberately vague here, people…
Archiving: Sure, if you feel the urge J
Email: cressid@ureach.com Feedback is always welcome
Disclaimer: This would be where I tell you that I don't own the characters, not
making any bucks, didn't mean to infringe anyone's rights and toys go back in
the box. Please don't sue, I'm a poor student.
*I did take major inspiration from Ancestor's Breath, though, so props for the
bit about the "center of the wheel".
***This has a bit of Greek mythology in it, so don't think I'm weird. Just as
an FYI thingy, Pegasus flew out of Medusa's head after Perseus slew her. The
Pegasus and Andromeda constellations also share the stars…ain't it cool?
Summary: Tyr puts his thoughts into a letter. Words have such power… It's a
bit odd, a little AU. Hey, do I ever write anything else?
The Stars Began to Burn
"I am no longer the center of the wheel. I am not the only god."
How strange…in one sentence I reveal my failings and my fears, yet I can find no
shame in the confession. Truly, before the last syllable leaves my lips I feel
a great burden lift from my shoulders. Perhaps the Magog was right; there is a
Divine and it has a rather twisted sense of humor. Had anyone ever suggested
that one day I might abandon the Gorgon I had birthed I would have called him
both liar and fool. As it turns out, I would have been wrong.
Achieving my goals has had an unanticipated effect, one which I am loathe to
admit I did not see coming. In reaching the pinnacle of my dynastic plans I
have somehow managed to become less than my former self. Tyr Anasazi has fallen
by the way; I last saw him on that final day aboard Andromeda. Dylan used to
tell me to mind the long game…I believed I had. I dared look into the face of
the Abyss – but I failed to notice that it looked back, as well.
The sheer idiocy of it galls me, for I have done this of my own accord. I
labored diligently over the chains that bind me, forged the links in the fires
of my own greed. I added fuel to the inferno one dream at a time…tossing the
best parts of myself bit by bit onto the hissing coals. For once I was the
center of the wheel – Tyr Anasazi, out of Victoria by Barbarossa – and I would
never surrender to a capricious universe. My will was the strongest, my vision
the clearest. Of such arrogance are monstrous things born…
Beware, friend, of one who approaches and claims he would save you, for that
zealot will destroy with his fanaticism what the uncaring cosmos will not.
How do I count my losses? Certainly not in battle, for we are wholly
victorious. Our enemies are scattered like chaff in the winds. Few remain and
their number grows smaller each day. The Nietzschean Nation has become the
Nietzschean Empire, and have we not made ourselves Olympians in the process?
The stars themselves began to burn as they whispered our names. And my part in
this matter? Have I bled for my people – earned the immortal fame which I
despise? That and more…
Now I am entangled in her coils, snared by the dream of an empire made real. My
life is choked off by the unceasing demands of my people, by the rewards they
heap upon me and the future glories they offer. I am drunk on my own success
yet each victory adds but another drop of hemlock to my cup. I find that I
cannot plot another coup or pose another lie. To remain longer will be the
death of the small part of me that is truly Tyr. This is my truth; no matter
the consequences, I must go.
There is only one journey worth making now, for the hour is late and I am not,
much to my relief, a god. There is but one who can save me, one who will either
free me from this curse I have brought upon myself or else end my suffering. I
do not know where the road will be found, though we both know to whom it leads.
Whether or not she will have me is another matter, but her heart was always more
generous than mine. I have earned my damnation. Perhaps, too, I can earn
salvation. Just this once I would prefer that God were not dead.
Do not remember me as one who has lost his way; rather consider me as one who
was freed, at the death of the Gorgon, from a soulless servitude. Like
Pegasus, out of Medusa, I hope to take my place among the stars and be forever
at her side.
Author: Garnet Filigree
Rating: PG – it's incredibly tame
Spoilers: Um…no, not really
Pairing: Use your imagination! I'm being deliberately vague here, people…
Archiving: Sure, if you feel the urge J
Email: cressid@ureach.com Feedback is always welcome
Disclaimer: This would be where I tell you that I don't own the characters, not
making any bucks, didn't mean to infringe anyone's rights and toys go back in
the box. Please don't sue, I'm a poor student.
*I did take major inspiration from Ancestor's Breath, though, so props for the
bit about the "center of the wheel".
***This has a bit of Greek mythology in it, so don't think I'm weird. Just as
an FYI thingy, Pegasus flew out of Medusa's head after Perseus slew her. The
Pegasus and Andromeda constellations also share the stars…ain't it cool?
Summary: Tyr puts his thoughts into a letter. Words have such power… It's a
bit odd, a little AU. Hey, do I ever write anything else?
The Stars Began to Burn
"I am no longer the center of the wheel. I am not the only god."
How strange…in one sentence I reveal my failings and my fears, yet I can find no
shame in the confession. Truly, before the last syllable leaves my lips I feel
a great burden lift from my shoulders. Perhaps the Magog was right; there is a
Divine and it has a rather twisted sense of humor. Had anyone ever suggested
that one day I might abandon the Gorgon I had birthed I would have called him
both liar and fool. As it turns out, I would have been wrong.
Achieving my goals has had an unanticipated effect, one which I am loathe to
admit I did not see coming. In reaching the pinnacle of my dynastic plans I
have somehow managed to become less than my former self. Tyr Anasazi has fallen
by the way; I last saw him on that final day aboard Andromeda. Dylan used to
tell me to mind the long game…I believed I had. I dared look into the face of
the Abyss – but I failed to notice that it looked back, as well.
The sheer idiocy of it galls me, for I have done this of my own accord. I
labored diligently over the chains that bind me, forged the links in the fires
of my own greed. I added fuel to the inferno one dream at a time…tossing the
best parts of myself bit by bit onto the hissing coals. For once I was the
center of the wheel – Tyr Anasazi, out of Victoria by Barbarossa – and I would
never surrender to a capricious universe. My will was the strongest, my vision
the clearest. Of such arrogance are monstrous things born…
Beware, friend, of one who approaches and claims he would save you, for that
zealot will destroy with his fanaticism what the uncaring cosmos will not.
How do I count my losses? Certainly not in battle, for we are wholly
victorious. Our enemies are scattered like chaff in the winds. Few remain and
their number grows smaller each day. The Nietzschean Nation has become the
Nietzschean Empire, and have we not made ourselves Olympians in the process?
The stars themselves began to burn as they whispered our names. And my part in
this matter? Have I bled for my people – earned the immortal fame which I
despise? That and more…
Now I am entangled in her coils, snared by the dream of an empire made real. My
life is choked off by the unceasing demands of my people, by the rewards they
heap upon me and the future glories they offer. I am drunk on my own success
yet each victory adds but another drop of hemlock to my cup. I find that I
cannot plot another coup or pose another lie. To remain longer will be the
death of the small part of me that is truly Tyr. This is my truth; no matter
the consequences, I must go.
There is only one journey worth making now, for the hour is late and I am not,
much to my relief, a god. There is but one who can save me, one who will either
free me from this curse I have brought upon myself or else end my suffering. I
do not know where the road will be found, though we both know to whom it leads.
Whether or not she will have me is another matter, but her heart was always more
generous than mine. I have earned my damnation. Perhaps, too, I can earn
salvation. Just this once I would prefer that God were not dead.
Do not remember me as one who has lost his way; rather consider me as one who
was freed, at the death of the Gorgon, from a soulless servitude. Like
Pegasus, out of Medusa, I hope to take my place among the stars and be forever
at her side.