this post was submitted on 03 Dec 2024
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Short Stories

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Taking Lacanoodles advice I decided to try and work on my favorite of my two recent writing ideas. I tried to write the paragraph summary then a full page. My full page went to about a page and a half but that just means I'm inspired right? I'd love to hear some feedback, its my first time writing again like this in awhile.

Deus Misit (Summary)

On a distant planet, under the light of twin suns, an astronomer and their apprentice make a startling discovery. A new star has risen in the sky. The people of the land take this as a holy sign, a blessing. Until that blessing takes the tangible form of a screaming fireball crashing through the skies and burying itself deep into the ground outside the city of Crux Mbl. As locals investigate the monolithic structure that now looms, they find the impossible. A voice and face not unlike their own. Though it speaks in a way they don’t understand, they cannot deny its beauty and grace. They begin to study it, unaware that what sleeps inside may not be the Gods they imagine.

Deus Misit (Page)

It was brighter now, the star that had appeared in the skies above Crux Mbl. It will be twelve sunrises today, once the Twins ascend into the sky, since the new star appeared causing a stir amongst the sprawling streets below. The first night, it was nearly unnoticed. Only a sole stargazer, an astronomer amongst their people, and their still young apprentice, saw its beginning. The second night, word had spread to other scholars, who made the long journey to the observatory, nestled on a sole butte behind the palace, to confirm this outlandish claim. They left the following morning with stiff lips and distant stares. The third and fourth nights, awareness had spread. Through murmurs in the marketplace, fearful glances cast into the sky at the dot that glows, even through the light of the Twins, or whispers of what was seen through crystal lenses pointed at the heavens. The fifth day came with a proclamation, a recognition of the new light as a blessing from the heavens gracing the face of Crux Mbl. The fears eased and Cruxites now smiled as they stared upwards. The nights leading up to now had been feast after festival, prayer after dance, exultation of the Gods shining their light through one more hole in the darkness. This is not to say all Cruxites felt this way. There were those who still cast eyes on the ominous, creeping glow, with mistrust. The astronomer Pherylindas, and their apprentice, Omus, watched from the domed butte. They watched as the blessing, this holy light, became something far larger than the rest. It became apparent that this star was falling. The pair tried to warn others, but the days of celebration combined with the majestic stupor of the very sky lighting with the bright yellow and orange glow of this falling star had rendered the population deaf. They merely watched, their metallic skin reflecting the splendor that blinded many that day. For a moment everything was still, The Gods had come. No moment can last forever, the stillness broke with a crash that threatened to split the very ground the Cruxites stood, danced, worked, and loved upon. Immediately after the crash came, The Judgement, buildings themselves bowed to the very majesty of the divine vessel that had graced the fields outside Crux Mbl. Recovery took time but was met with fervor. Cries of those that lay under rubble mix with cheers for the priests and scholars who gather to investigate what landed so near to their home. The gates open as a group of eight, all that could be spared from the relief efforts, leave towards the pillar of black smoke. They travel for an hour on foot, not far from the walls, but enough to give one a sense of scale. From this distance Crux is still tall, as a mountain is tall. What stood within the smoke, stood above the mountains, smoke at the top never quite dissipating the way the rest did. It appeared quite like a raindrop, only large portions of it bulged in unnatural ways. Two additional structures appear to be connected by narrow bridges, impossible to have survived such an impact with such fragile architecture. Yet here it stands in the face of those eight who would meet it. Greeting them further, a pale cerulean ghost apparates, as though from a staircase of light from the vessel itself. From the size of the sky, down to one of the Cruxites, it moves in a strange but not unfamiliar way. More shocking yet, it resembles them. Not so in the details, their forms are much straighter, their flesh is an array of golden hues, their eyes are clear orbs aligned vertically in their face, the only facial feature. In fact, the only natural distinguishing feature of these hairless people. Yet this cerulean messenger of the Gods, stands as they do, upon two legs. Waving two arms about a singular torso aligned with a singular head atop. Two of the priests begin to weep as the Messenger speaks, a sound as though water crashing into a great depth, unknowable in its content yet majestic in delivery. Pherylindas and Omus stared at the Messenger, while the priests fell into a blessed stupor. It began to speak again, waving a hand at itself, then the vessel, then all around. Then it flickered once and vanished. The eight return to the perceived safety of the walls of Crux Mbl, however looking back as the gate closes, it is clear the walls offer no protection from the sight of the Gods. Their vessel stands tall, into the clouds, glinting in the bright orange light of Crux In, The Youth, then bathed in the sterile white of Crux Ek, The Elder. The twelfth day has risen of Crux Mbl.

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[–] Lacanoodle@literature.cafe 1 points 3 weeks ago

I like the visual writing style. A good starting idea to begin with great symbolic potential.