Wednesday, September 28, 2011

The Tower for +Bliss Morgan

The tower stood tall between the Earth and Sky. It was a proud building of stone and mortar, its towers raised high against the oncoming clouds, its walls braced against the sand and the desert winds; a four-towered testament to the power of a race and culture long dead.

Humans came and went. They lived around it, fought wars for it, but none dared enter. Instinctively they knew what was inside had to be powerful even though they had no idea what that could be, sacrificing animals and even each other at the gate to whatever lay inside.

The tower watched on.

As time passed, people moved from their caves and started building huts of straw and wood. They learned to create dyes and crude tools. They fought each other still, using knives and arrows of stone to spill each other's blood on the sand, crying out the name of their god who they were convinced lived in the tower.

Still, the tower was silent.

Centuries passed. Wars were fought, people enslaved, and people sacrificed, all in the name of the silent obelisk.

After a time, currency was eliminated. Life was simple for the people; they no longer fought, they no longer had any reason to. Buildings of white, smooth like ivory surrounded the tower, nearly as tall as itself.

It was then, and only then, that the gate opened, and their smiling god emerged from the portal.