Worlds of Paul Jessup

Even though the original beginning was good, I think it only set the setting, but didn’t introduce the themes I was going to play with.  Since a beginning to any story is a promise to the reader, I don’t feel like that original beginning created a promise that was the rest of that story.  I think this rewrite does contain and suggest that promise.

The sun of UrsaUrth was not forgetful. Not even in its eld years, when it whispered and wheezed, red and hungry, blue cracks of age rippling along the surface. Even then it remembered, remembered all it had seen through its ancient hours that had unticked so fast, leaving it gasping and cold and empty. It remembered even when it had gained sentience, had gained memory. It remembered watching the children of UrsaUrth burn themselves out from the stars and leave only rust and junk behind, littering the emptiness of space.

No, this sun was cursed with memory. Dying moments gave it no reprieve, and even when it exhaled its last breath and left the rock of UrsaUrth cold and hungry in its wake, even then it would be cursed to remember. Remember the hungry humans, the devouring void, and the return to rock, return to wait the last hours as the sun coughed and wheezed and spat out its last flame.

On this rock of UrsaUrth and under the light of the watchful sun crawled a junk boat through the green and gold waters of the Glass God Sea. It bobbed on the churning waves in drunken and disorderly movements, searching for something of its own amongst the debris. This was a massive barge, as large as the largest city that Tarel had ever seen.

It was composed of bric-a-brac thrown and cemented together, relic world pieces pushed into odd and new formations. Pyramids, glass walls, domed ceilings, each part and piece crawling with vine and grass, living things with green leaves outstretched and seeking the failing nourishment of light.

Tarel stood on deck, hand on his sword, Dama, Durhalla, the singing sword of the Rootworld ruins. Naked sun outlined his body as he watched the waves, and saw beneath the green lit water the glowing silver bodies of the glass gods. Miniature, transparent, filled with humming wires and ancient circuitus magick. The gods parted, swumming aside, letting the barge through their sacred lands.