To the Kingdom of Nothing

I awaken to find myself floating up on the very lake that shakes me to my core.

The hero is paddling out, pushing us closer to the Kingdom of Nothingness. Adom's ale was shimmering against the castle of gold and silver, making the world itself materialistic, creating my home into a temenos for kings, gods of the land in which they reside.

Damn the world. Damn the gods and their high heads. Damn the kings and their superiority complex. Damn the sins and all they have done. Damn myself and all that I will cause. Damn it all!

Will I become the very god I hate? Will my name become theiphorous and will the ideas of me become lar?

Should I become as such, I shall endeify myself of the world and create a theomachy of such great awesomeness that the skys will roar and the earth will tremble and the far-reaching seas will crash, for the gods will fall and all shall tremble before me! Every man, creature, and beast of every sky, of every forest and swamp and desert and every mountain, of every sea and volcano and cave shall come to fear me, to hate me. And they shall come to hate the gods, for they have created me, formed me of mud and broken coal.

And I shall laugh.

I shall laugh because the gods that had disposed of me at the very birth of my soul and have thought nothing of me because of my frail body and mind, will watch as I take away the thing they most cared about.

Resentment shall be the only thing I praise. It shall be the very thing that destroys the world and it's creatures.

If the gods have created me to destroy, then I shall destr-

"What ya thinkin' about?"

The hero's bright eyes blinded me, I could not look at them... I should not look at them.

"Nothing."

"I have heard that word all too many times. No scarier word will ever be used to reply with."

"What does that mean?"

A long silence persued.

"Nothing."

All there was that had become of that word was the sound of splashing water, killing the fire that was once the hero, turning the golden embers into ash. His eyes had lost all soul. They did not look at me, although they were looking in my direction, they were not looking at me.

They looked at something beautifully painful, they were looking at old, fond memories and sound moments. Then, they became bitter and resentful.

No words have been muttered truer than those who have said "the eyes are the window to the soul," however, the way I see it, to be able to see inside the tinted and stained, you must first find the mirror.

He looked away from me and his eyes went back to its original life like lie, as golden as the castle itself.

"We're here!"

The coast glistened with clear waters and sea glass. And such as the sands that would never be seen again because they were pulled into the ocean, we would never speak about what happened on that boat again.