The small encampment was situated in small clearing above the waterline of the humid swamp like forest. The air was filled with a chill breeze, that rustled the leaves of the mangroves, but the cold piercing blow of the wind did not bother those that dwelled around the small fire sat upon two tree stumps they had cut down earlier to make wood for the fire. The two were so terribly out of place it would have been obvious to anyone of any intellect to work out they were not from this part of the land. They did not wear the traditional tribal wear of these backwater excuses for humans, savage and blood lust infused beings. They had no concept of art or beauty, and praised the blacksmith before the poet or the scribe, though it was clear enough to presume they had non to call their profession that. The sun was setting across the distant horizon, now few more then a last few dying rays on the edge of the skyline.
The first of the two inhabitants of the temporary camp, though you could barely call it that for they pitched no tents nor needed the rest, as rest was something they no longer required in their lives, had picked this location for this great event because this war would not require him, unlike a more advanced world, but it was teaming with life enough to fuel what was to come by the end of this night. When the sun rose again on this planet, and the three large moons started fade from sight, this world would die, and give it's life for one of the greatest moments in the history of the universe, though beyond this swamp, it would never be truly known. The second sat in deep contemplation, knowing this night would be his last, he too would be part of the sacrifice, though his part in this was much greater then that of the pitiful inhuman beasts of this world. But that was to come later, and before that, he had much to think about before it came to that. This night would conclude all his questions, retell events 200 years in the past, and finally let him understand why the full past of his compatriot. For although the two had travelled the stars for just over two centuries, very little was spoke of either of their pasts, two pasts which while centuries apart, and totally independent, because unknowingly intertwined by fate before either knew of their part in the future of the universe, and indeed in all the same ways, the very history of the universe too.
The first of the two was perhaps most peculiar of the two, in many ways he was the leader of the two, though neither placed either in front of themselves in importance, for each of them has jointly created their invention, and shared their powers with the other to create perfection on a level that bordered the surrealy unimaginable. His body was far from human, though it was at least anatomically similar, in many respects. While it was the same basic shape, the dimensions seemed exaggerated, every limb an extended mockery, slimmer but so at the same time so obviously full of strength for the creature radiated a fearful strength about itself that shook those who were not used to looking upon the queer figure. His clothes were striking and of a style from his native land deep in his past when he still clung to his humanity and did not brace the all consuming power of infinity before he drunk unrestrainingly from the cup of Oblivion and felt the true blessing of the cosmos through his veins. In many ways, his clothes were a joke upon the name of the project given to him, though that like other things, comes later. They were in a typical Harlequin design, repeating patterns of contrasting diamonds standing on end, in colours of Black and White. His hair was raised, in a fashion that pushed it upwards and backwards, in a sort of mane at the back of his head, bright red in colour, that flowed down past the large ruff around his neck. Upon his face, he wore a mask, as he always wore, an ancient thing since the first day he took up the Title of The Laughing God and left behind Adam the Harlequin Child.
The second was less peculiar and eye catching, but still out of place on this tribal world. He was almost a whole foot taller and standing, his back to a tree, as he took in the last few rays of light in this fateful night, he sighed, and bowed his head, looking down at the baked mud of the swamp. He had pale white skin, though it held an odd off-blue tainted quality to it, marking him in a subtler way then his associate as not entirely human, though his appearance and clothing were much closer to the thing he was masquerading as then his friend the Laughing God. This was mostly because he had barely changed his looks over the year, while his friend had drove out the last of his humanity centuries ago, making himself fully alien to the race he had been born into. Mephitos never had the misfortune of being born human, he was of rarely mixed blood, and so had no true culture to aspire. He was unique, and he was a living God, as was his master.
The silence was broken at last by Mephitos, who had seen enough of the setting sun, and wished only to get his last orders of business out of the way. The night would be long, but so were the tales that had to be told, the final explanations of a two long lives. “This is it, is it not my liege. The final...No, my final night.” He asked, as he stepped behind The Laughing God, The Harlequin. His master turned his head, not entirely but more then he would of for anyone else, he respected Mephitos more then he respected any other creature in the entire of the multiverse, the entire of time and space. This was the one creature out of infinite Galaxies that had ever earned friendship from him, and he knew tonight that friendship would end, for the greater cause.
The masked fiend shrugged, then paused, looking deep into the eyes of Mephitos, as if he was expecting Mephitos to be shocked by the news that even he, a god, never really knew anything these days. But he knew his companion too well for him to think his little joke would startle him. And surely enough, Mephitos smirked. Bouncing up and out of his pose, the living god pirouetted around to face Mephitos, then bowed “But my good friend, why does one ask a jester if one does not want a jest in return?” Mephitos shrugged and retorted “If do suppose that if I had wanted a fool, I could of picked no greater idiot then you my lord. But no, that is not what is needed, for now is no longer the time for jokes nor foolishness. Now is the time of gods and of fire. Tonight our tales shall be told, and when the sun rises, I shall die.”
The Laughing God was not used to rebuttals, but he knew Mephitos was right, and his games did had no place tonight. Time was short, and the stories ahead were long. “I suppose, my friend, we should start from the beginning, from the very beginning. Before the shadow received the kiss of life and before the water was broken.” He motioned Mephitos to come take a seat beside the fire, and took back to sitting cross-legged on his stump. Mephitos moved slowly to the other side of the fire, and sat on the floor, his back up against a tree, propping him up. “My memory was never clear, I will confess, but in those days, nothing was. But the first important step on my path started with a dream....”
