Annus-Dominus Vance, Prince-Mancer rhymes:


Withdrawn mind, he paces daily:
  Bleaker aire burns whence he stands:


Dark havoc soul, long silent dance!


Restless brooding, chained-sent, howls:

 "I'll bide in palace lands!"


Zero Move in garrison: a seeming-cry,


His soul promises he'll keep;
striding thousand-Hexes in sleep,

Sere-gaze trance with no surrender;
nor slumber when still;

Map dream-urge; his rage form-render:
Murder, for a crown; his kill:

Erf, bending to his will - in reaps:

Peace by vengeance may bring the end.

Not through love, but through revenge.

 - - - - - - -


Inhuman will: that force en-scene.


Offspring of the deathless soul,

Hewed its way to any goal;

Through walls of granite intervened.


Was not impatient in delay,

As one that understands,

When spirit rises,

It commands!

Fate is ready to obey.


- epigraphs writ of Vance: Traitor to the Side and Deus Rex, Comet Fragment.

♦ ~ ♦ ~ ♦


Vance, Prince and Caster, in his first turns, slew five of six brothers - this succession bid reckless cost tongue and freedom. Popped without Loyalty, unwilling to marry, poison to diplomacy - garrisoned in a winter palace remote from Side activity, as if deliberately forgotten: only his father's neglected administration forestalls disbandment.


(Yet tales like that do not end easily.)

Vance feels the tug of a faint call one turn


Unspools memory: flickering detail blooms and colors swirl in his mind:

of pompous books, read in the library of his hated station - older, more candid tomes;

and a story hinted at by inference: that his side holds an origin myth -


(It stopped his feral pacing, as usual alone, in place:

He composed poetry, dictating in the silent voice of the orator.)


- King-suppressed heresy in latter turns, that which came to him unbidden.


    - - -

Of -


A shard, half buried in dirt, torn from comet-mother -

exploding with new heat.


Fell Life, innate Mancy - yet hating Life and Freedom:
So bitter in trap: heavy its grounding.


Barbarians, unlucky followers of a brute named 'Loss':
He, offered crown and capital site for service, for secret prices:
His vicious misrule of the tribe, made many: for star shard's pleasure.


King Loss, brought down, to its mild disappointment.


A new leader! - distant hexes summoned by a dark voice,
Cruelty downfall: a cycle from Titans' time.


A sly, sadistic successor; a foolish Caster's love -

Strong enough to see his future - yet not hers.



A King sending to his tribal allies:

for a sword with Mancy to cleave a bond - a sacrifice.


A sword held proud; Signs make the King fat;
With too-red cheeks: neglecting all but pleasure.


A trapped star finally forgotten - a city in flourish.


A name:

Deus Rex.

 - - - - - - -


A voice distant, old as stories - red as rust, dry as sundered loss - harmonizes with his Thread given to the Magic.  He fancied it real enough to speak to: his mad intuition, richly rewarded.



Memory -  I. Against All Things Ending

(When a Meteor Red and Left To Die On Winter Beckons... thee Recipie ys this:)

’Come here, now...  refresh my wedding
With the ground

Small, womb-severed - proud, fettered.’

In "pop", I lanced; dissevered
HEX FROM HEX! -  now simmer, vexed.’

 Text: a voxelated whisper: "next. . "
For blood-trials, crowns: reality found in war's dispel. 

’My form's scream: "FEAR":
Founding sites stained: verse numbers curses

I, Deus Rex sum FIRST:’ 




Memory - II. Deus Rex' Mantra


'BLOODTHIRST..' - feed my ache? -

for my ire-rites?


I'm writing icy; are your eyes blind?
Still see; alight-with-fire sky,




Mancy - III. A Murmured Response

It is recognized to be the case;
However: Kingship is my Fate.

Ah - your strange words
May be counsel to my "betters".

However, one cannot be left

To fend - for oneself, it's
 A cold way to this end - or with
A girl, or with a chef's knife.

One, a second son of court
Have never truly known the sun
Have never been allowed to run
One bides, waiting for:

Kingship... that deadly Fate


Heard that Predicta-girl gave once
 A sly word, and Titansword
To a lord (a boy): oh, then he flew.

"My King", "Father"; if him one knew
One would beg a question: "Why?"

He! A dreamer, Titans-blessed - one mourns!
And that one yet yearns for Deus Rex.

Straight fights, one cannot win again
Though one's the second son because:

Heh - popping seventh wasn't fun;
  But one never held gold tongue again.

Nor held advantage in time's race:
Twin non-combat specials do not rate.

King's consort, "Queen", she's feral bitten
As she gave me, too, to fetters.

Well, all now know: one's reft
A mind torn by war n' winds:
It feels as if a toxic sieve,

Yet one ever knew one's strife.



I stop in place,

mind-talking, caught

Your presence turns me:


I lift my head;

but am not proud

I know what I am waiting for -

Kingship is my bitter Fate.

I heard a time

you suffered not to live

a bird:


any Titanspawn a toy:

then you withdrew.

I sing to you.

Of if I met you, dim


With heat,

before neglect did cause





This rend-mind caress,

I am torn

Here, Deus Rex,

you would be gold. 



I would admire you,

th[r]ough all hate

Were in your gaze:


I am croaking here,

would walk again


No cooling skin;

gifts of strife, might:

just fine


A holy cause,

unholy wars,

teach gore to run


(though we're G+)

They took my tongue,

but you can hear me.

I know not my soul,

but we still feel things.




and / LET / we / US / might / NOW / JUST / FIND / OUR / SOUL.




Symbiosis - IV. REQUIEM.


Gemini twins in rage n' Fate,
Who dares t' say: "You shall [not] a.d.vance"?


In blood wedding, we dance -
We instrumentals, seizing chance.


Peace by vengeance brings the END.
Not through love, but through revenge.