starry dynamo in the machinery of night
He does not know exactly why he has decided to do this. Perhapsmaybe it is because his father and mother have done so wrong. Perhaps it is because for so long he has been adrift in the cosmos - a constellation frozen in time. Now (still?) he is frozen again - this time in slumber, eyes sealed shut by the brightbright red of the flora. He is heavy; no longer weightless like the stars he was once thrust out with. He cannot move, there is no desire riddled through him (save to sleepsleepsleep). Why had he come here? This strange land rithe with life - this was not his home. He had no home. He had no ties. Why was he here - what had called to him? He cannot remember.
Wake up. he hears the magician, his voice striking through the brilliant red void of flowers. You came here to do something, Godbear. Not to sleep like a child. Godbear’s eyes open- free from that pull downdowndown. You came to adhere to the Fairy. And oh! Yes! Now Godbear remembers - the slumber sand brushed from his mind. He was here to help - to fight that evil sickness that swept across the land. No, Beqanna was not quite his home yet. But it would be. He would live here - in a land of sweet and honey. He would fight this drowning disease.
Eight’s dark figure comes closer - angry built across his features, growing more clear with each blink of Godbear’s (one good) eye. Pathetic. Another of my blood falling in line with the fairies. There was no pride in his voice - no satisfaction that Godbear was moving towards making his name - making a mark on Beqanna. No, Eight cared for the chaotic mix of life - neither good, nor bad. I let you free of the cosmos - and this is how you repay me. And it was true - Eight had released that magic hold that bound Godbear so tightly to the stars. Eight had been gracious, and kind. Eight had come home, and had allowed Godbear as well. Back to where you belong, you wretch.
And then - they fall, as the magician disappears.
The sky alights with shining orbs, and Godbear is (for a moment) mesmerized. A world of constellations falling through the sky. (It feels like home. The galaxy, the cosmos - the place he only really knows). The moment is short, abreathin and abreathout; before Godbear realizes this is not home. He is not in the stars this time - and these molten rock formations screaming down from the sky, this time he is not one of them, he is not protected by magic, he is not a star - he is a target.
The first asteroid hits the field of red flowers with a ferocity unheard of (Godbear had forgotten just how angry the skies could be). Red petals fallfallfall again, this time they are burning - this time the red is not beautiful - it is a warning. Godbear side steps, his motions stuttering (he could not see - he cannot see - he is blind on that side, unhearing on that side, vulnerable on that side). His heads turns to take in what the magician is doing (destroying). He is trying to take Godbear home again - burn him up and encase him in these rocky bodies of the galaxy. He is trying to take him away.
“Father - no!” The first time that word has ushered from his mouth (fatherfatherfather). Another crater, coring down the earth, ruined lands, ashes floating, fire tilting the flowers flat. And Godbear runs (so clumsy, so unsure of this thing called gravity). He cannot go back to that vast empty world - this will be home now, thishastobe. His path is stopped - a crater created that is far too large to cross - hot earth in front of him, a gap where redred flower should be - but there is only destruction, a land of destructuction.
The air is thick with the rain of the galaxy - hardened rock hurtling down - Eight’s anger evident in it all, ruining the flowers that Godbear was here to fin (the plague would win. Beqanna would die). Godbear cannot breathe, there is no where to go - the land around him riddled with bullet holes of the magician thesky thegalaxy. Godbear looks to the sky - his good eye fixed on the shadow above - a swirling color of black and hot blue and white white fire (movemove Godbear - it is coming for you.)
“It is time to leave, Godbear. It is time to go home.
And the largest crater of them all is created - a crush of force (a magicians aim never misses) a hole in the universe where Godbear once was. There is nothing.
“Father - No!” Godbear’s rasping (so unused when you are among the stars) voice tears across the field of flowers. Chest heaving (fear will do that), heart crushing against his rib (caged, that’s what he was). But there is no father (no magician of the sky), there are no asteroids (absolving any ability to find those plague-freeing flowers, there is still a Godbear (yes, he has made it).
It was a dream, is all (a hallucination? A curse of the magician?) There is still time to fight this sickness.