Brain Plague

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"Lord of Light."

"I see you, Green. Why have you come?"

"We pray you, give us our Promised World."

"Every day you come to my eyes to demand a new world. Is it not enough that I saved you from death and sheltered you for seven generations?"

Green remembered that a generation of children grew old in a god's day. Seven generations in exile; a mere seven days, for the Lord of Light. But in each generation, Green asked again. "The Blind God promised us a New World. Let my people go."

Darkness lengthened. Within the Lord of Light's great eye waited Green, along with the second priest, Unseen.

"Very well. You shall have your wish. But beware—your New World will be more than you imagine. You are a dangerous people, Green and Unseen. You will reach too far, and your children will die."

The peak spurted lava, an arch of blinding white across the sky. As it fell, the lava stretched into butterflies of red and infrared, the color only Chrys could see. The infrared butterflies collapsed into a river of fire. On a ledge above, a clump of poppies shared the lava's color, their petals outstretched as if to drink it in.

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