Friday, July 22, 2016

Bad Company

“You don’t want to pursue this end, Avide,” Tenet warned.

He rubbed his temples as if wearied. The raven-haired woman at his side retorted playfully, “You don’t know what I want, Betrayer.”

Tenet sighed, running a hand across his bald scalp.

She had almost always been this way, except in the beginning. Impossible. “You forget that the path you tread led to the creation of these beasts.”

He swept his hand as if a blade to stab at the horrific scene before them to emphasize his point. A great metal monstrosity lay stricken, split in half in the rear. From its torn belly spewed tongues of intense flames. You could see through the manmade viewports that the source continued to kindle in the searing heat. The malaise of fire spread to nearby trees, transforming the dark night into a gloomy twilight. A perverse dawn rose from the dying tank, choked with thick clouds of smoke. Tenet looked with his trained gaze and noted more to the fire, an added hunger that was not just the release of heat and light. The vixen in form-fitted field gear seemed enamoured with the grizzly scene.

“You mean these merveilles! This is power! This is what will make the world right,” her passion pierced Tenet’s heart.

He could feel the appeal. She had a way of stirring up others. Tenet did indeed find the power mankind now wielded amazing. They had pushed inert metal into life and transformed warfare for themselves forever. He was not surprised that behemoths from his War tested their mettle for fun on these new toys of man. He had to resist floating along her syrupy voice that ever led to dangerous conclusions, and reason was his parry.

“Only One Person can put the world at right. We can merely help in our small part,” he chided.

“Of course,” she replied coyly.

C’est magnifique, Principe. Beautiful. You must see the charm within it all, as dark as it might seem--but it is as bright as one could ‘ope with the world at war,” she added warmly.

Her words and eyes melted the edges of his defense. She loved calling him by her new native tongue. Every ounce of her exuded affection and enthusiasm, disarming and engaging others all at once. He almost forgot this was her inherent nature as a fellow Exile. She contrasted starkly with the dangerous environment that had been a battle minutes before.

“The world has been at War for a long time now,” he answered.

“Eh, yes, you know what I meant, Principe,” she crooned. “The dragon de feu may yet have some good in it, as all the Maker’s children might. You put your trust in me. Perhaps your stalwart ways can straighten it too, once we have the Eggs.”

He nodded at her tender smile, distracted by another thought. The back of his mind whispered and he slowly listened to it. He then remembered something more relevant and pressing. Pressing and pulsing as waves on a shore. Or wind upon the trees. The fire fanned with each gust. His black orbs shot wide and filled with silver streaks fed by the flames.

“Avide, It didn’t leave!” He hissed as he withdrew Sicol from behind the Curtain.

She flung wide her arms and shouted toward the sky before he could knock her to the ground, “Oui! Sous sommes ici!”*

*French for “Yes! We are here!”

Art Source: "The burning tank" (c)/by Andrei-Pervukhin
Story and Characters: (c)/by Corey Blankenship, Tenet (c) by Brannon Hollingsworth

#MMWW, #Makes, #Me, #Wanna, #Write, #CoreyBlankenship, #Drache #Dragon #Tenet #Avide #TenetsTales #WW1 #Belgium #France #Russia #Faberge #Eggs


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