by Louis IX
Check first chapter for disclaimer and global warnings. This chapter is a (short) attempt at palindromic storytelling.
Dually AccursedWe are doomed.
We are but a dual entity in a world of profit-obsessed elites.
We are one, but we are two, separate and together as others pulled on our strings.
The two of us are one, now, because we were pushed against each other, by birth, circumstances, and hubris. We are two because we were different people, with different dreams, aspirations… and powers.
The first had been dark of skin and intent, a true evil villain, and suffered a cursed death for this: kept alive while the organs were removed, embalmed, and entombed. As her ancestors had been.
At the same time, the second had been truly heroic, defending the poor despite meagre means. Because despite knighted and noble ancestors, only debts remained. Such was the curse of wanting.
With the powers now flowing through the planet, she had triggered into a combat-able mummy. With ribbons extended at will, forming and removing knots following thoughts. She could attack and defend with them, move around and hide, and even perceive surroundings.
Sent into a spiral of despair, he had triggered and was able to change things into gold with a touch – thankfully, he could eat gold, otherwise he'd starve. But like Midas, his power was his curse, as touching his loved ones transformed them into statues. His ailing mother. His own son.
In comparison, she was oh so hungry… but whatever she consumed, even enemy souls, didn't appease her, since her stomach had been removed and hidden away.
When people took advantage of such power, they noticed that things didn't stay the same for long, if they left the immediate vicinity. Even when the riches were melted so that the gold could be actually used, they ended up with ingots of bricks. And cooked flesh. At least they could eat… until they remembered whose statue it came from.
We were never to gain peace, only let those enabling us benefit from our interrupted hunger towards life and comfort. And once we were done with, they continued their methodical depredations. Their destructive conquests. Their puny wars.
Now, the two of us have merged as one. We had fought, on opposite sides of politics and identities. Her power had her ribbons surrounding him completely, keeping him close while his changed her into the golden metal, unyielding to his normal strength. Immobile, petrified in a never-ending hug, with our cursed touch prolonging our suffering into eternity, we were placed on a pedestal we didn't care about, with opposite declarations etched on opposite sides, in the middle of a museum that straddled the demarcation line crossing our home, our sunny island, our divine paradise. Only then do we understand.
We were never to gain peace, only let those enabling us benefit from our interrupted hunger towards life and comfort. And once we were done with, they continued their methodical depredations. Their destructive conquests. Their puny wars.
When people took advantage of such power, they noticed that things didn't stay the same for long, if they left the immediate vicinity. Even when the riches were melted so that the gold could be actually used, they ended up with ingots of bricks. And cooked flesh. At least they could eat… until they remembered whose statue it came from.
In comparison, she was oh so hungry… but whatever she consumed, even enemy souls, didn't appease her, since her stomach had been removed and hidden away.
Sent into a spiral of despair, he had triggered and was able to change things into gold with a touch – thankfully, he could eat gold, otherwise he'd starve. But like Midas, his power was his curse, as touching his loved ones transformed them into statues. His ailing mother. His own son.
With the powers now flowing through the planet, she had triggered into a combat-able mummy. With ribbons extended at will, forming and removing knots following thoughts. She could attack and defend with them, move around and hide, and even perceive surroundings.
At the same time, the second had been truly heroic, defending the poor despite meagre means. Because despite knighted and noble ancestors, only debts remained. Such was the curse of wanting.
The first had been dark of skin and intent, a true evil villain, and suffered a cursed death for this: kept alive while the organs were removed, embalmed, and entombed. As her ancestors had been.
The two of us are one, now, because we were pushed against each other, by birth, circumstances, and hubris. We are two because we were different people, with different dreams, aspirations… and powers.
We are one, but we are two, separate and together as others pulled on our strings.
We are but a dual entity in a world of profit-obsessed elites.
We are doomed.
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To be continued… it's my curseAuthor's notes: Not that easy, and quite unwieldy, too. I like the powers, though, and the situation is interesting. I might post a normal version of this, someday. In the meantime…