The firmament shook as the hearts therein lost faith. What was once united fissioned, and the Earth's conciliatory counterpart vanished without trace. The substratum of creation tore as beings extraneous fought for control. Watching from within was he who had stood through all ages. From time immemorial had he surveyed existence, relating all he saw to a higher power. And he watched now, as the greedy forces wreaked havoc in their tumultuous scrap for ownership. And it was of this matter that he spoke to the higher power, requesting relief. For he was a watcher only, and could not interfere. The higher power had brought all into existence, the greedy forces in a moment of folly, as well as those of balance in an attempt to rectify the wrong resulting from his lack of judgement. A higher power though he was, perfection was not his nature, and as such, mistakes were still within his power to perform, unwittingly or otherwise. The watcher knew this, had seen this, and had counselled against this. But he was a watcher only, and could not interfere. The higher power listened to that which the watcher brought before him, and reflected upon it.
The watcher, having performed his duty, returned to within.
The ecumenical powers, of which the watcher was one, remained vigilant, eager to be aware despite their inability to act. Through the cosmos the avaricious entities rushed, consuming those hearts that despaired. Still, for each that was consumed, another was recovered as those that were created second, of whose power was harmony, spoke to the anguished hearts.
Yet the firmament continued to shake, and that which was torn asunder could never be fully restored. The watcher understood this, had seen it before. The higher power had been told, and he acted not.
So it was that the worlds created slowly lost faith, for no matter how valorous the attempt to restore balance, disharmony would inevitably win out.
The firmament shook, and crumbled, as the hearts therein lost faith. What was once united had fissioned, and that which had fissioned ruptured. The torn substratum of creation split further, as the ravenous powers overcame the accordant. Watching from within was he who had stood through all ages. And for the first, he wept, powerless as all that he loved sank into the mire of insatiable craving.
The higher power, once so elevated, once so revered by all, turned upon himself. He was no longer elevated, no longer revered. From the highest heights had he fallen, and to the deepest depths he fell, never to return.
~J.L.
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