The Birth of the Alabaster Citadel

Based upon the idea of a competition I was going to create.

Fifteen hundred years. Fifteen hundred long years, I've toiled for this. And finally, it stands.

Ellomere Melchior, a withered figure clothed in a blood-red robe, stood before the obelisk before him- or, what appeared to be an obelisk. Amongst the mountainous landscape, the obstruction of solid white towered before the elder, its shadow reaching far beyond the border of the rocky terrain it slept upon.

"This," he murmered, placing his staff upon the barren earth, "this is my legacy to the universe. This is my hertiage to Gaia, my tribute to Zeus, my contribution to Loki." He took to a knee, closing his eyes, whispering his prayers to the million gods of the thousand planes of existence.

The obsidian stave he carried with him, his only companion for the millenia and a half he endeavored, slid from Ellomere's aged hands, clattering upon the ground. Its abstract noise of unpatterned cacaphony mimicked its weilder's grant to every creator, then laid still upon the ground.

"Arise, my friend." Trembling hands wrapped another in embrace, placed slowly upon the black-glass rod. They unfurled, caressing the surface from middle to end, clasping the undecorated edges and raising it.

"Your last command, Asolde, is to seek out the thousand. Deliver them to the Tower. Quest them only to strengthen them, even if Death is what will bring them closer to their potential."

Those clasped hands raised the stave, and released. Gravity was denied its eternal service, for the stave floated upon its own will. Slowly, it condensed itself, folding, shrinking, winking from physical reality, until it was one single point, one atom amonst the universe, and then exploded into a thousand points of light.

Ellomere would've shielded his eyes, if the metaphysical explosion didn't rip his body into a million subatomic particles. What was left of him, his infinite psyche, smiled upon the last action he left for time.

"They will all arrive, by twos," he stated. "They will be tested. They will leave, changed by the memories."

This, this is my crowning achievement. This will be what makes me the thousandth, and first.

Author's Note

The elder here is an older role-playing character of mine, and I know its lacking a bit of description on who he is and such.

Reviews

[Dark-skinned warrior]

I do personally feel it could do with a touch more description, for both the character and the surroundings, and a couple of things I feel need attention are to firstly avoid using the same words twice close together and in the same context, it accentuates the feeling of a repetition. Also, as a minor point, 'didn't rip his body' would be better as 'had not ripped'.
Apart from that, this is a good little piece of writing containing some beautiful sentences. If this was a 'prologue' to a larger work, I would happily read on.