A Truth Untold

Chapter Six

The Dark King grimaced as he opened his eyes once more to the familiar sight of grinding machinery and the dull dripping of water against solid obsidian, the faint ring echoing around the circular walls that formed the Column. The Column was his domain, his world, a world where he ruled with a fist made of fury, resilience and intent, where he was never to be questioned, never to feel the failure that was rebellion. Yes, he was the essence of power within the deepest depths of the earth, and the knowledge of this sent raw energy flowing round his immobile body.

The Column itself was made of pure obsidian, the deep black polished surface burying itself hundreds of thousands of feet deep into the ground. Although there were no light sources, the outside world being shut away from all within the column some thousands of years ago by a cataclysmic event, a faint pale blue reflected off of the oily walls, creating a ghostly etching of the city yet scarring this image with the infrequent presence of a thick bold ray that stretched from one side miles across to the other, bridges of light within the darkest depths of imagination. The Column, effectively, was a gigantic inverted spire within the ground, created long ago beyond memory by the Dark King himself. Within the centre of the Column, a single spire of rock towered and writhed its way through the night, a corkscrew within a dark glass bottle. Spits of flattened rock jutted from its edge every so often, forming sometimes complete bridges to the edges of the city. For not only was it a natural phenomenon, the Column was a city, thriving with life, yet absent of the smallest trace of happiness or positive feeling.

Although the Dark King sat amidst the highest regions of the Column, an immeasurable distance below lay millions of people, lying upon the spits of rock that jutted from the central spire, lying within chambers free of all time, and the effects that plagued those who dared to face the tests of life. Lying, lying…………in an endless dream.

As much as he wished to forget, as much as he hoped for the millions below to suddenly disappear and leave him solitary within his defying keep, the Dark King could not avoid their presence, for not only must he lead them, he must serve them. For as they dreamed, their dreams floated up through the Column, miniscule points of light seeping through the confines that were obsidian, travelling along the light bridges and rising higher and higher to the ethereal throne. There, the king should have begun exploring the dreams and deciding upon whether to grant the soul with the bounties that their imaginations offered, yet no longer.

No, no longer the Dark king thought to himself, they know nothing of reality, of what I suffer, of what is expected of me. Now my desires will be fulfilled, and when they are, when they are satisfied with the endless knowledge waiting, they too will feel the thousands of years of suffering I have endured.

The Dark King could not, however, smile at this thought, his feelings enticing him to do so, yet the action was one he had long forgotten. No, he would not succumb to influences he had the power and right to control. If he was to succeed, he must detach all bonds that connected him to any other. He must search beyond the known boundaries of the world, never resting until it was found.

 His head slowly lowered against the rest of the throne as he gradually dipped back into the enveloping sleep. Only the strongest of thoughts could penetrate its inevitable on come for one last moment, a thought he wanted more than most to become reality. Yes, soon you will all know.