The Shape of Things to Come
Picture an eternal sea. Featureless, devoid of landmark or boundary, eddies of water ripple and swell. This sea extends endlessly in all directions. Waves merge, become systems. The systems fall apart, become waves again. Because there is nothing but change, there is no change. Because there is no change, there is nothing to define the passage of time.
Until They come. They materialise and gouge patterns from the sea, a point of stability amidst an ocean of roiling chaos, then steal away without fanfare.
The sea, given reference, howls in pain, and strikes out at the tiny island, to drown it, immerse it, reabsorb it. Lose the hateful agony of definition and permanence. The sea's blows erode the coasts, pulls it back towards nothingness. But the island is robust, and defies dissolution.
...
Samhuinn waited. He was aware, standing at the boundary of Gaia, of the passage of time, and knew that they should arrive shortly. He glanced around, discomfited by the nature of his surroundings. The terrain here was arid, with a thin shroud of dust covering the red-baked earth beneath, the harsh sun beat down ceaselessly, but Samhuinn merely chose to ignore it, some indignities of Embodiment were unavoidable, but he wouldn't belittle himself by suffering more than he strictly must. The true fear of this land for his kind was its rigid adherence to the laws of reality, it's unwillingness to yield to the whims of the Sidhe, this was Gaia, only metres from the borderlands of the Dominion, yet a world apart. However, this was the closest to the Courts that the traders would tread willingly, and whilst it galled the Sidhe to comply with the demands of mortals, necessities must be fulfilled. Thankfully, it seemed that his ordeal would soon be over, as in the distance he had sighted a dust cloud, the size suggesting an unusually large number of travellers in this remote region.
Slowly the origin of the dust cloud came into view, a long caravan, with some twenty covered carriages, hauled by a ragtag admixture of camels and small, heavyset horses. The leader signalled a halt, and his deceptively shabby, yet well armed and armoured followers hastily obeyed, averting their eyes from the guantly elegant figure before them.
He had already sensed the raw animal terror coming from the foremost caravan, but Samhuinn nevertheless sniffed the air dramatically, and then wrinkled his nose in earnest; fear was a favoured seasoning for himself, and he judged it both piquant and stimulating, but many found it far too cloying, and whilst evoking fear from a state of bliss took mere moments, the reverse took much more effort. this would cause needless problems. With the skill of a master puppeteer, Samhuinn adroitly arranged his features into an artificial facsimile of fury.
'What is the meaning of this? I thought you had been instructed - no - commanded, to keep them calm,' he said, and the mortals shrank back in dread, even their leader's eyes widening despite his poor attempt to conceal his fright.
'But, even should you command it, as soon as they see us, they are terrified, as soon as they are taken alive, they give up all hope, nothing we can do to coddle them will stop the succumbing to their base instincts.' Replied the chief, voice steady and tone reasonable despite his obvious discomfort.
True fury ignited in Samhuinn then, no matter that the explanation was acceptable, for any mortal to have the temerity to correct him, particularly publicly, was nigh unforgivable. Perhaps he should kill them all and take his prize? No, this far from the Court it was unlikely he would have the strength to kill all of the forty or so armed men who rode alongside the caravan. Yet even more importantly, slaying these men could prove to be a problem for his Lord, for they had proven reliable in the past, and men willing to walk the jagged path of servitude to the Sidhe were rare indeed. He made a conscious decision then to keep his rage in check, yet it was still simmering when next the man spoke.
'My Lord, surely we could come to some sort of arrangement? Other than that issue the livestock are fine quality. We'll waive our fee, anything, we'll do anything my lord,' now it was clearly evident that false bravado had played a role in him speaking up before.
With a start, Samhuinn realised that he had been silently staring daggers for the better part of five minutes, trying to control himself. Mortals perceive the passage of time differently, for them it likely seemed like a long and frightening interlude, and yet the thought of even measuring such a concept as time seemed outlandish in the extreme to him. His anger skittered away, like a spider fleeing from a bright light, by the upsurge of amusement he felt at the crawling servility of humans when faced with the perceived threat of death.
'No need, your money is meaningless to us in any case, your service has sufficed this time, but be less careless in the future,' said Samhuinn, carelessly tossing a pouch containing a King's ransom into the dirt as he strode towards the foremost carriage.
He twitched aside the cloth covering and looked at the helplessly bound and gagged humans inside. He felt their fear heightening as he stood there gazing at them, well, he thought, for those of more refined tastes in the Court, these are already spoiled goods, but at least I will enjoy myself. A predatory smile appeared on his lips, and this time there was nothing of artifice in his expression.
. However, there are a couple of spelling and grammar errors that detract from it a bit.
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