Trumping Chaos

Bless the War God. He trains my hands for war, my fingers for battle.

There was no moonlight that night. No one knew the warrior clan matriarch’s location. Her green-eyed scholar would never approve. The War God connection was strangely silent.

She entered the reserved alcove. Incense was burning; pillows were scattered on the floor. The female Chaos God devotee greeted her. The woman’s eye color was never clear. She was just witty and earthy.

“Please sit down.”

The warrior clan matriarch settled on some pillows. Crossing her legs, she leaned against the sleeping platform. The atmosphere that energized and excited her would disquiet most War God followers.

“Close your eyes. Hear my voice. Slow your breathing. Imagine the purest air going in. Exhale the dark emotions.”

The warrior clan matriarch’s heart pounded with great excitement. As her breathing slowed, her heart rate followed.

“You are standing on a mountaintop. Look around. You should see a garden. Walk toward the garden.”

In her mind’s eye, she looked out. The landscape was too quiet, like the animals were scared into hiding. Not comforting to a warrior. The distant sea glittered like a million diamonds. Surrounded by a shoulder-high wall, the garden jutted out into the sea’s center. Some tropical flowers and plains grasses grew inside.

“Continue to approach the garden. As you enter, describe the first creature you see.”

The garden gate was a courtyard away. Suddenly, the War God walked along the wall toward the gate.

He was resplendent with the agonies of those who followed him and those who chose not to. Yet, he had personal pain, like something was wrong with his heart. He had one hand wrapped in his scarlet cloak; the other hand covered his heart, partially concealing and partially revealing it.

He stopped in front of the gate, blocking entry. Somehow, she knew she was not allowed to enter the garden, like it was unsafe. As she chose obedience, something flowed along her connection with him, like he chose her for something she would never comprehend.

“I… can’t… finish. The War God is at the gate. I have to stop.”

The Chaos God devotee was stunned. “Well, that’s surprising. We’ll stop and do other exercises.”

As exercises continued, wild indescribable things happened. But lost in her War God connection, the warrior clan matriarch remembered nothing.

The unseen realms rippled and quivered, melting with each Chaos exercise. Familiar growing nausea gripped the warrior clan matriarch.

At night’s end, the warrior clan matriarch crept with quivering to her living quarters. She tucked her stiletto sword under her pillow. Falling asleep, she focused on the War God, knowing he loved her yet not understanding what love really meant.

 

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