A New Babylon

We called upon the Mountain, but the Mountain did not move.
We called upon the Air, but the Air did not answer our plea.
We called upon the Fires, but the Fires did not ignite to cleanse;
We call upon the Sea, and Her tides turned towards the shore.
Such is our Will and Command.


It was a full moon, in a dirty sky. The cold had become a caressing touch, silken and dream-like. Seemingly alone I walked on hard cobblestones, a cloak of blue swirling, appearing zoetic on the wind. I was lost in the thought of who else, in conspiracy, had walked today on this same sidewalk. Before me lay a tower of stone, impenetrable and ancient. Its niche windows, some dark, and some light, shone like puzzle pieces to which the answer would be simple and blissful death. My clarity had been paved with coin and an alliance of two great powers.


The First had called me to Ar. On the day I arrived, still journey weary and sleep deprived, I had stood before the great desk of ebony as a soldier whose only task was to deliver herself for duty. Thrice before I had denied his request to appear, for in the end I could see only my own peril. This time he had leverage. He had shown me a recent contract up for his approval. Try that I might to ignore the name upon it, there was a reaction. The first thing that had come to my mind was, ' Who will bury me next to my brother when I die, if not him ?' , I had swallowed a very bitter pill. The first had my full attention and he knew it. It is every Killers right to refuse contracts. It is considered heinous to refuse an in house Writ of Execution. He would ask me to commit treason, of sorts. I could not deny my loyalty to him, or the Caste, its full fruition. This had changed everything, wickedly stripping away any refusal on my part. It would be done, this trade of life for death. The life of the Poet for the blood of many Scribes, and in most likelihood, my own. From the whispered description of it, the task would be a zealous act. The catalyst of a new Ar would be forged in Red and Black. So the agreement was accepted. So shall it be done.

Here on the street below, I remember that day well. All is seemingly quiet, for now. I have left the cloak of Blue at the base of the stairs along with a skein of green rope used to strangle the two men. Both were barely bloodied. Tomorrow they will find the bodies of the corrupt politicians in their respective offices, with graffiti on their walls. Tomorrow the streets shall be flooded with criers who will shout "Two Councilmen found dead in the Magisterium at the hands of Cosian dogs! Hear all about it!"



After all, Tomorrow is another day.