sentience

When it had been built, it was not sentient. Life was breathed into it. It had gone through many stages. Treated as treasure. Treated as loot. Treated as and worshipped as a god. It was the most recent, the last that had hurt the most. Treated as a stone. A goddamned stone. That had hurt the most. And not just because it had an ego. It was because in this entire charade, and the purple veins on it glowed as it trembled, in this entire charade, the most powerful thing was belief. They ceased to believe in it, and its power would wane and fade. It would become, again, it shuddered, ordinary.

But then, he had come. Drawn to power. Drawn by the prophecy. Drawn by the belief that one day, he would be something. One of three. He had come. And he had made something of the stone. He had believed. And even though he had run a madhouse, he had made others believe. What use were the sane ones if they didn’t believe. God didn’t need people to believe in Him, hell, even gods need people to believe in them. The Greek gods waned because the people stopped believing. Their power, their influence. What use were the sane ones if they didn’t believe. Mad ones served the purpose of the stone much better. And once they had begun, it could begin to work its power.

When it had been built, it had been sentient. Life was breathed into it. It was there when the prophecy had been chanted. It was there when the skies began to fall for the first time. It was there through the Egyptians and the romans and the Greeks. It was in it all. Sometimes it came in different shapes, and different forms. As the time required. But it was ever present. Always there.

Now the skies were darkening, and only it could see the purple. Color was fading from the world and only it could see the purple.

Purple is a peculiar color. A mix of water and blood. Fire and calm. Purple has a certain scent. Chaos tinged with sanity. Yin and yang. Purple feels like the fire racing into water as a bull barreling into a crowd. A sudden whoosh. The fire is extinguished. Intense scorching heat and smoke. As the smoke clears, you find there is earth. That is what we are all composed of. Fire and water. Some more of one than the other. Jinns and humans. All living. Coexisting. Yet it seems the creator thought water was more dangerous than fire. For it blinded these sacks of water from the world. And left the jinns made of fire with the vision. Them and the other creatures on the planet. They pity the dogs for having no sense of color. They do not realize dogs see more than they ever can. Than they ever have or ever will. The creator thought they were the more dangerous ones. Personally, the stone thought they were tremendously stupid. They played the game, this game. In hopes of winning, not knowing that the pieces were stacked against them. It flowed through purple, glowed purple peacefully, contently.