A Vignette from before the Silver Millennium

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Approximately 800,500 Years B.C.E:

The beautiful woman in white looked up at the ancient structure before her. A tall figure in armor stood by her side, also looking up.

She was dressed in a voluminous robe of white trimmed with gold, accented by silver and gold shoulder plates. Shining metal bracers were set on her forearms. In one hand, a staff of argent topped with a multifaceted crystal supported her as she stood, proud and majestic. A little necklace that had only a teardrop-shaped red crystal hung from her neck.

She had obviously been in a recent battle. The robe was singed; slashed at certain places, dirtied in some. The staff was similar in condition, burned and scorched at odd places. The bracers were dented and blackened.

But, if anyone were here, they would not see the flaws. They would see the power and pride in the woman's stature. They would see those clear, blue eyes, so much like the skies of Earth on a clear summer day. They would see the long, luxurious hair bound into twin ponytails like two golden waterfalls. They would see the beauty and they would see the way she carried herself as a warrior, the way her hand clasped around the staff and the steel in those blue pools that were her eyes.

She was Serenity, whom the people called the White Queen, and she had just fulfilled a promise made millennia ago when Atlantis fell. Within her veins flowed the blood of its survivors and of those who came even earlier. She was a child of the Defiance, those who fought against them that brought down an empire that had once ruled the stars and would destroy humankind.

Beside her stood a figure of awe-inspiring presence. Black metal covered it from head to foot, an obsidian colossus seemingly without flesh, it towered over even the tall Serenity. A wolf-face was set instead of a face in the head piece, eyes burning with a reddish light, face cast in an eternal snarl. A large broadsword was held in between those hands of metal in a relaxed position before it. No one would guess that underneath all that metal lurked a living man. The metal was cracked and dented, melted at certain parts, torn with ugly rents across the chest, a particularly nasty one across the left arm. This rent marked the presence of life underneath that titanic bulk of sable iron, for blood dripped there, painting a scarlet brushstroke which still dripped with wet liquid.

One hand reached up and tapped the side of the headpiece gently and the wolf-face folded, bent, seeped back into the collar of the armor to reveal the sweaty face of its occupant. Long black hair like a mane flew about as he shook his head. A few stray locks stuck tenaciously to his forehead. Blue-gray eyes peeked from under unruly bangs as he gazed up at the structure before them. The face was ruggedly handsome, all planes, no curves, hard and unforgiving as a stony cliff. The man's thin lips were set into a grim smile as he nodded with satisfaction.

He was Endymion, the one that men and women called the Dark Knight, a terrible warrior and possessor of the Armor of the Black Wolf, an artifact from the Empire of the Stars that once spanned several galaxies. He was also brother to Serenity and fought by her side and sought to protect her from all harm. His sword was known on all the worlds of Sol and he had let blood in all of them, from the caves of Mercury to the icy wastes of Pluto. A child of the Defiance, all that he had killed were servants of the Black Pharaoh, enemy of his bloodline since the fall of Empire.

Before them was the palace of the Black Pharaoh. Done in the style of the Atlanteans, those whom He felled with his deception and tricks, it was a darkly beautiful thing. Impossible curves, spiral pillars, walls designed on the principle of five, it was an incredible achievement of engineering.

It also housed an incredible evil, for here the Black Pharaoh had dwelt, the one called Nephren-Ka who led the people of Atlantis to their destruction, taking them to heights of knowledge unheard-of and dashing them from these heights. After this the Black Pharaoh took all their knowledge and conquered the worlds.

As for the Atlanteans — or the Draconians, as they had called themselves — some fled to some mysterious hiding place far beyond the reach of the Black Pharaoh and his servants. Others stayed to fight, severing their wings as penance for their stupidity. They fought and they bled with those who called themselves the Defiance, warriors and scholars that had waited for the coming of the Black Pharaoh's evil to this world. For generations, they fought and they lived, reaching this point in time, this moment where brother and sister stood before the palace of the Black Pharaoh, after having fulfilled their bloodline's promise of vengeance.

A promise paid for by many, as evidenced by the ruined city around the palace, some of them still smoking, some still on fire, some already ash and blown to the wind. The siblings also paid in full, for they had come here with close to a million troops and now they only knew of that they were the only ones left alive.

They were silent as they surveyed the scene of their final triumph. It was Endymion who broke the silence.

"We have fulfilled our blood's promise, sister." His voice was like the sound of grating rocks as he looked to his sibling.

"Not yet, brother. There is still one more thing." Serenity's voice compared to her brother had an almost musical quality to it.

With a flourish, the White Queen raised her staff of argent, the crystal foremost to the dark heavens of the night sky. The red teardrop glowed a scarlet so bright that the world was awash with crimson, a promise of vengeance completed.

Then she slammed it down in a wide arc to the ground, like a hammer of justice, like lightning from the skies.

It was a terrible and beautiful sight to behold. The earth screamed. The winds roared. The sky came crashing down and the fires of heaven and hell seemed to be in that eternal moment when the palace of Black Pharaoh was destroyed.

After that moment, nothing was left but the ground, scorched, shattered, cracked, broken, annihilated.

"So easy it is to destroy for you now, little sister." Endymion said sadly as he looked at Serenity.

"I am different now, brother. I am steel where I once was silk, hard in what once was soft." Serenity whispered morosely as she surveyed her handiwork. "With this power, I sometimes wonder whether I be better off dead."

Endymion put a metal-sheathed hand on her shoulder and tried to force a smile. "Do not worry, it is over and we may—"

"It is not over, brother. You heard what Nephren-Ka said. With His defeat, we have attracted Their attention. With my power I can feel them and I know this to be true. Even now, I sense the Slumbering Lord of R'lyeh stir. No, it is not over. It will never be over."

Endymion bowed his head in assent. He was silent as his sister continued.

"He mocked us as he died, brother. His defeat would herald the end of all that we had fought for. They will come, with Their hordes of Things. I saw Them; He showed me the swarms of winged creatures that flew between the gulf of worlds, drinking the blood of the living. I saw the worms that could burrow through rock like it was water. I saw things of living fire, of winds with eyes, of things that I thought I would only see in the Book of the Traveler and my nightmares."

Endymion shuddered, for he too had read the Traveler's Journal and knew what his sister was talking of.

"Then after these would come their Masters. I with all my power cannot stand up to them, for they are like unto gods and only a god would be able to match a god." Serenity stopped and looked up into the starry, night sky.

"Then what are we to do, sister?" Endymion asked as his sister's gaze left the heavens and looked into his own eyes. Her eyes were like pools of blue ice and a cold, light fire burned bright in them as she answered.

"Then we shall make our own gods."

Author's notes: Thanks for reading. C&C is welcome.

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Last revision: May 21, 2007