Whispers until the End of Time Part 4-6

Whispers Until the End of Time Part 4: Into the abyss Whispers awoke to an eternal darkness. His mind clouded by his awakening. He has been in a coma, his mind lost for the past year. His body was recovered by a hunting party of the Sapiens, the last of the freeborn humans. Evolutionary they are the same as their ancestors. After the Elite took control of the world, over a thousand years ago, they began to hunt down and amalgamate the rest of humanity into the cybernetic network. The speciation of humanity over the last thousand years has been a combination of natural, biological evolution, the inadvertent mutations of toxic evolution, and the direct and indirect manipulation of genes and the body in the cybernetic evolution. This has caused humanity to evolve into three distinct species. Billions of programmed, mindless zombie like cyborgs of the Elites control. Millions of mutated, hideous creatures who suffer in the wastelands. And the millions of people scattered across the world, hidden underground, securely outside the reach of the Elite. The hunting party that recovered Whispers, only found him by chance. They rarely ever go to the surface and venture off into the wastelands, it has become far too deadly, even for their most hardened warriors. But this hunting party was sent out by prophecy to find 'he who shall not be spoken of'. It was the night of the final tetrad, the Blood Moon. It was prophesied, on the night of the Blood Moon, a lost child of Gaia the mother, descendant of the legendary king Mythos, rightful heir to the throne, would be found under the cloak of darkness surrounded by death and decay, washed up on a shore of blood, lost to the ages unable to find his way. This is exactly how the Sapiens found Whispers, without wasting time the warriors gathered up Whispers and made their way back to the underworld. Now, Whispers has awaken and finds he is unable to remember much at all. His mind clouded by a haze. A motion detecting light turned on as Whispers stirred, trying to sit up, his muscles still weak from the coma. The light, illuminated the room, blinding Whispers, his eyes burning with pain trying to adjust to the intense light. He wills the light off with a wave of his hand. Some how he manifest an orb of soft, gentle light in his right hand. Dim, so is eyes could more easily adjust. He was in a room, unfamiliar to any thing he had seen before, odd trinkets and tools all about. He was in a bed, as he rose he could see a room, adjacent from him, a window separating the two room shows a reflection, someone coming from down the hall, Whispers has caught the attention of his rescuers. A gentle but stern voice called out, "What is your name?" Whispers, could see the dark figure in the reflection standing in the hall, he quickly extinguished the orb of light. "Who's there?" He replies The dark figure, turning on the lights to a soft dim, presents herself to Whisper, "I am Athea, but you should already know that." As she spoke her words Whispers had a vision, a blinding light of the past, he instantly knew where he was but, not who he was. He was in the infirmary, a patient seeking care. "What is your name?" Athea, a little more insistent this time, almost as if she was demanding he remember. But he didn't. In that moment he realized he had no idea what his name was, who he was or how he ended up in that pool of blood. Whispers, his eyes still adjusting to the light, saying, with the faintest of whispers, "I don't remember." Athea moves in closer, Whispers, lifts his head to look at her, he marvels at her strength and beauty. He can see a bright light gleaming from her eyes. The energy surrounding her was immense, her aura was emanating as if it were alive, owls flew over her head and snakes slither around her feet. To Whispers she was a true goddess. Athea proceeded, "You do remember, you are just lost right now. Your genes do not lie. We have been awaiting your arrival for some time now. The prophecy foretold of a descendant of Mythos that would rise during the final tetrad, washed up on a shore of blood, lost in the middle of a dying forest. This was you, and its all in your genes." Whispers mind was clouded by doubt, angst, and guilt. He had no idea as to why he felt this way, but he some how knew that Athea was speaking the truth. With every second that past, Whispers was bombarded with vision after vision, unable to make out any thing but blurs of light. Visions of the past, present, future and alternate possible realities, all merging together now inside Whispers mind. At the mention of Mythos, a vision focused on the past, as vivid as if Whispers was there himself. It seemed to be a time before the fall, before the Elite took control. A man was standing on a stage addressing an enormous crowd of billions of people, all captivated by his words. He was in the capital of the free world, and the people were calling for a king. "Mythos! Mythos! Mythos!" The crowd chanted, screaming and yelling in marvel, enthusiastically cheering on, who they believe to be their savior. As Mythos began to speak, the crowed quieted down. "I am no king! I never wanted to be king! I do not believe we, as a species, need a king, nor do we need to be lead like sheep. We must put aside such false ideologies and theologies, and look inside, each and every one, to find peace, love, hope, courage, and the power to over come this system of corrupt programming." Just then Athea broke his vision, "Do you remember?" Confused and unable to make a clear assumption to any thing at this point, he replies "I'm sorry, I just don't have any recollection." With the slightest of smiles, Athea leans in close and says "That is quite expected. Not to worry, this is what our bee shaman is for."

Whispers Until the End of Time Part 5: Nature of the Whisper My life has always been just an echo of the times, all the emptiness, violence, blood, death, the poison of my mind. I focus all this in the whispers that live inside my head. I am Death, I am Blood, the echoes of your last breathe. The intervention of the Powers of Darkness, development of creation and brought in the principle of darkness and disorder. Ever since I could remember, it always started with a whisper. This whisper of inside the mind, but speaks of the unknown of the outside. I remember my first kill, it was sewer roach. It was as if the whisper was of the future motion of its move reverberated in space, by some dark grace echoed before the present time, in my headspace. I am living Innerpaths to Outerspace. I was never taught about whispers, actually i knew deep inside that I should never speak out loud about these things. It went with out saying. Death speaks no language, survival goes beyond all words. While attending training as child, I would stay silent. And focus on the whispers, I knew the thoughts of my mates, knew the lessons of my masters, they would tease me call me Ghost or Shadow. I knew I had a secret tool for survival, for mercy and for death, which stalkers us all, i can only hear his feet. The master would have whispers of hate towards me, for i would move before they would instruct me. Nothing is worst the moving, acting and attacking before the warrior is programmed. For the warrior is just the sword of the crown. There is no self apart of the Logos, All Hail our eyes Sight the trickster King of Everything. I remember, Helios with blood of the Logos was created to be the next great warrior, even before he reach the 10th moon, he got the metal skin, but moved like he had first skin. He was twice of me, and twice as fast, by all numbers i should meet with defeat. But I heard his whispers, they were many and fast, fear, and trembling for he might not live to be the next king, was he worthy of such power. He knew nothing but blood and pain, force and blind honor is the only programming. He had no heart. Helios moved in a constant oval cycles, blast out strikes, with predictable rhythm it was just as he pull back that i went low to take out he legs, the crack of bones sends energy down my spine, alert to blood I strike the final blow, and that's when they called me Death's Whispers because in all matches, it was fatal to be opposite of me. They didn't know, what i knew, only in the silences of speech, can you listen to the whispers of defeat. After training we where sent out to the badlands for war, there was always war. Its all we knew, Death, War and Blood. Death's Whisper stuck, but for short they called me Whispers. At birth no one gets a name, you have to earn one, more like survive so that a name will be useful. Everything is for utility and survival. And it was time to put Whisper to some use. I became the Sight King of the Logos favorite Assassin, everyone would whisper great things about me. For my body is cleanse in the blood of enemy, but the whispers of dead plague me. My Head was cave of echoes of all lost souls. The Kingdom runs on the currency of Blood, and with my fate whispers that live in my head, no reaps as much I as sow...

Whispers Until The End Of Time. Part 6 The Bee Shaman The bee shaman was not your average, decrepit old man, he was vibrant and youthful at heart. Though he was old in age his mind was anything but, and his body showed the scars of his past. He is the keeper of The Hive, Latoscivils underground. The bottom thirty stories of the mega complex houses all livestock and a variety of crops, complete with irrigation systems. The shamans home looked as if it was set in the middle of a jungle, shrouded in vines and creeping undergrowth. The shaman was always one with his surroundings, in touch with the spirits and communing with the Indescribables. A well cultivated man, he keeps up the maintenance of the hive with precise care, creating an environment that seemed as wild as the surface. As Whispers and Athea approached the hut, the buzzing of bees grew immense, the entire ceiling was one giant beehive, and the shamans home sat directly underneath the middle of the hive. Whispers could smell the aroma of pollen and honey, it filled him with a sense of comfort as he entered the hut. A white noise fills the room, resonating with the now faint buzzing of the bees, the aromas of honey and pollen now mix with a curious amalgam of burning incense. The blend of amber, cedarwood, lotus, musk, and myrrh all create a aromatic and mellow atmosphere. The shaman was putting the finishing touches on his mystical brew of Yagé, a entheogenic blend of the rarest of all plants, the caapi vine and the leaves of the chacruna plant. Whispers entered the hut alone, Athea leaving him so that he can focus on remembering. "Come, do not be afraid. Tell me, what do you see? As the bee shaman turned, he gestures to whisper to move closer, knowing he was unable to see. Moving closer Whispers replies, " Nothing. It is as if I am blind, but when I close my eyes I can hear the static of whispers and see blurs of colors but I cannot make out anything." "You are on the island, come drink this" The shaman pours a ladle of the yagé brew into a cup and hands it to Whispers. "What is the island?" Whispers ask as he sips the brew. "That is where your mind is lost, somewhere between the here and there. Your body resides in this plane of space and time but your mind is stretched beyond the universe, scattered amongst the ebb and flow of time." As the shaman was speaking, Whispers could feel the potions powers working on him. He was once again lost to time. "Whispers" a soft gentle voice of comfort fills the void. At the sound of the voice, Whispers is overwhelmed with the feelings of joy, love and compassion. 'I have never felt such feelings before.' The first recognition, a simple thought brought on by these feelings unknown to Whispers. "Whispers where are you!" The gentle voice rings out in an echo. Whispers immediately recognizes it as the voice of Athea. "There you are Whispers, I was beginning to think you were gone for good!" With every word spoken Whispers became enamored by her presence. The void begins to transform, Whispers is having his first vision. The scene was of the forest, desolet as if a atomic bomb had gone off, it was the scene of the last battle of Sight and Whispers, and Athea had just found Whispers in the rubble. Athea continued, " I'm glad your OK, is sight defeated?" The vision Whispers replies, "I can no longer feel his presence." Athea relieved, expresses the slightest of joy and hugs Whispers."Finally, we are free from his wrath." As Athea steps away, a blinding light streaks in from a distance and hits her in the back. It is Sight, still alive, and he has just unleashed a death blow to Athea. She falls into Whispers arms. "NO!!" Whispers screams in anger, his energy exploding within him. The passion fuels a raging inferno. His energy reaches critical mass, and he can no longer contain it, a wave a energy burst from within him. He is emitting energy beyond comprehension. His transformation is complete. He is now pure energy manifested in physical form. The rest was unclear, the vision began to fade, Whispers was back on the island. Still unsure what is happening, confused and astounded Whispers thinks to him self, 'All I hear is Whispers?!' Just then his second vision began. "Whispers!" A male voice shouts out. It was Wise, Whispers old companion. The only one who could ever match Whispers in speed, strength, agility and wit. "Bring me some mead!" Wise shouts as the vision of him walking through the door of Whispers lair manifest and a vision of Whispers moves to greet him. "My dear friend, how was your journey?" The two exchanged salutations and settle at the table. "I see you still enjoy the weak stuff!" Wise says sarcastically as he gulps down the entire cup. "Well after your last fiasco, I swore off Temper-mead for good!" Whispers gestures to the scare on his forehead as they both explode with laughter. The scars from their past tell a story their lips never would. Wise was always looking for the bigger purses, shinier prizes, the prettiest maidens held by the darkest and cruelest of things. His mead consumption was no different, always the most of the very best. Exorbitant, as the prices were, Wise had a clear vision of what he was after in his travels. Guards, coins, caravans, nothing was spared. He and Whispers were always sniping with words, disagreements on which targets to strike or which city to infiltrate, adding riotous amounts of mead and ale just brought out the inevitable, their knives. Whispers, always with the upper hand, would allow Wise to land a strike or two, always getting him right back. In this case they both have matching scars on their foreheads from their last dispute. The vision of the two of them laughing and reminiscing faded, Whispers was again on the island. 'Wise, my friend' A smile appears on Whispers face as he starts to remember his past. As he opens his eyes the void begins its final transformation. His third vision has begun. Whispers was back on the stage in the capital of the free world. It was the coronation ceremony of the first king of the world. The crowd was chanting exuberantly, "Mythos!, Mythos!, Mythos!" Mythos rose, with a look of remorse on his face as he could not stand the iniquity of the people. The crown, freshly placed on his head, filled him with great sorrow. He began to speak. "Today we have made history! Today the people of earth chose me to be their leader. Regretfully it will go down as the most infamous act that man kind could ever commit." The crowed awed in disbelief at what was being said. "For as rightious and just as I may seem, we cannot guarantee the next will be the same. This is why I preach that we must learn to take care of ourselves. I vow to use the rest of my time on this planet to insure all beings are free, and conscious, to make their own decisions with their own minds!" Before Mythos could finish his speech, a blinding light lit the sky, simultaneously the ground began to quake. Out of the blinding light a angelic figure rose, with dark wings outstretched, casting a shadow upon Mythos. It was Kristos, the creator of the Logos. With a flick of his outstretched hand, he incinerates Mythos with an intense beam of energy. The ground opens up, swallowing the crowd. Petros was feasting. The vision ended. Whispers was back on the island. No longer confused or bewildered. He now remembers everything.