Kaladar Steele
2014-02-25 16:14:07 UTC
http://intensitydocuments.yolasite.com/
Infinite Dreams of Chaos and Order
Volume One
'Lord Nebulox'
By Kaladar Steele
Copyright 2014
Chapter One
The dream was one. It was always one, usually, often, no, not really. It was never one. It never had been one.
No, it was one, certainly this time. Nebulox knew it was one. It was always one, usually. Wasn't it?
He woke. The dream surrendered to the scoundrels of covetousness, who devoured his thoughts, those spirits who fed on the wake of dreams, those little demons and angels who hung around Paradox to devour the fruits of a nights slumber. They loved the stuff. Nebulox knew that.
He knew not, as he showered first, and then toileted and then showered again, forgetting he always washed after dirty business - he knew not wether he had even dreamed that morning. He knew not, because it was different that morning He could not see it in his head, and he puzzled. He always saw the dreams in his head, each morning, and sat at breakfast, with Lady Harmony, and discussed them. And she would feign amusement, and sit happily, drinking tea, and being the perfect wife. She was always that, the perfect wife, dressed in white lace, sipping on her tea. Why he loved her. Why she bored him so. Oh, but never complain, lest mother in law come a visiting, and bring her list of current complaints at Nebulox's lack of attention to detail around the realm.
He looked into his mind's eye. The dream would not return. It was stubborn. He summoned his strength, and willed it to come forth, even invoking a fond demon of his recent encounter, one with truly a sadistic sarcastic trait, which always enlivened the feasting hall of Paradox. They were ancient, after all, and explicit erotica barely got them going anymore. A sharp sarcasm from one of hell's best and brightest often got the party started, though. Nebulox liked to think so. Lady Harmony, his beloved, sat there, nonplussed. She ignored such foolishness. She was 'Above' such foolishness. So she sold to the world, anyway, with her casual demeanour and imperious superiority. Bah, to hell with the woman. Just like her mother in law anyway.
He willed it forth yet again, and defeated, sat down on the edge of his bed, and looked glumly out the window. 'Bugger' he said to himself. Not the will to even consult the fond bliss of dreamscape he lived for, practically, now, each night. He always knew that he could, cept the dream being one, of course. But that never happened. Heaven above, once, by Angel Celeste, spoke of the One Dream. The One dream would start something new for Paradox. A new beginning, were ancient practices would die a death, and a new life would emerge, that life not knowable, for Celeste would not speak of it. But some strange new life would emerge, and the ancient decay of babble at the table of feasting would part from them, a meaning newly imparted.
Strange nonsense to Nebulox, but sometimes he wondered.
Was the dream One, then? This morning.
Bah, foolishness. He was getting old. He would not dream of the One Dream for an Eternity. He would not be so lucky to as dream such a dream until rightly eternity had filled itself up with amusement and finally bothered to get around to his old soul on its eternal list of things to do.
Bah. Humbug.
He finished drying off, and put on robes. Today he would dress in yellow. Perhaps for no good reason, but simply as it had been many months since the golden garbs of Pelladius had garbed his frame, he took them forth from the royal cabinet, and dressed in fine gold, he paraded himself front the mirror. He looked splendid. Least Lady Harmony would coldly suggest, but losy interest at an instant, and sip on her tea, and gaze into infinity. Blasted woman. He'd his fill of such nonsense.
Just like her mother in law.
Blasted woman.
He glanced one last look, and stole downwards, past his wife's room, down to the dining room, and waited upon the servants.
Infinite Dreams of Chaos and Order
Volume One
'Lord Nebulox'
By Kaladar Steele
Copyright 2014
Chapter One
The dream was one. It was always one, usually, often, no, not really. It was never one. It never had been one.
No, it was one, certainly this time. Nebulox knew it was one. It was always one, usually. Wasn't it?
He woke. The dream surrendered to the scoundrels of covetousness, who devoured his thoughts, those spirits who fed on the wake of dreams, those little demons and angels who hung around Paradox to devour the fruits of a nights slumber. They loved the stuff. Nebulox knew that.
He knew not, as he showered first, and then toileted and then showered again, forgetting he always washed after dirty business - he knew not wether he had even dreamed that morning. He knew not, because it was different that morning He could not see it in his head, and he puzzled. He always saw the dreams in his head, each morning, and sat at breakfast, with Lady Harmony, and discussed them. And she would feign amusement, and sit happily, drinking tea, and being the perfect wife. She was always that, the perfect wife, dressed in white lace, sipping on her tea. Why he loved her. Why she bored him so. Oh, but never complain, lest mother in law come a visiting, and bring her list of current complaints at Nebulox's lack of attention to detail around the realm.
He looked into his mind's eye. The dream would not return. It was stubborn. He summoned his strength, and willed it to come forth, even invoking a fond demon of his recent encounter, one with truly a sadistic sarcastic trait, which always enlivened the feasting hall of Paradox. They were ancient, after all, and explicit erotica barely got them going anymore. A sharp sarcasm from one of hell's best and brightest often got the party started, though. Nebulox liked to think so. Lady Harmony, his beloved, sat there, nonplussed. She ignored such foolishness. She was 'Above' such foolishness. So she sold to the world, anyway, with her casual demeanour and imperious superiority. Bah, to hell with the woman. Just like her mother in law anyway.
He willed it forth yet again, and defeated, sat down on the edge of his bed, and looked glumly out the window. 'Bugger' he said to himself. Not the will to even consult the fond bliss of dreamscape he lived for, practically, now, each night. He always knew that he could, cept the dream being one, of course. But that never happened. Heaven above, once, by Angel Celeste, spoke of the One Dream. The One dream would start something new for Paradox. A new beginning, were ancient practices would die a death, and a new life would emerge, that life not knowable, for Celeste would not speak of it. But some strange new life would emerge, and the ancient decay of babble at the table of feasting would part from them, a meaning newly imparted.
Strange nonsense to Nebulox, but sometimes he wondered.
Was the dream One, then? This morning.
Bah, foolishness. He was getting old. He would not dream of the One Dream for an Eternity. He would not be so lucky to as dream such a dream until rightly eternity had filled itself up with amusement and finally bothered to get around to his old soul on its eternal list of things to do.
Bah. Humbug.
He finished drying off, and put on robes. Today he would dress in yellow. Perhaps for no good reason, but simply as it had been many months since the golden garbs of Pelladius had garbed his frame, he took them forth from the royal cabinet, and dressed in fine gold, he paraded himself front the mirror. He looked splendid. Least Lady Harmony would coldly suggest, but losy interest at an instant, and sip on her tea, and gaze into infinity. Blasted woman. He'd his fill of such nonsense.
Just like her mother in law.
Blasted woman.
He glanced one last look, and stole downwards, past his wife's room, down to the dining room, and waited upon the servants.