Liquid Dark

The seal rang as it slammed shut, a deep resounding vibration more than a sound.  The shudder shook clusters of light into the air, every intake of breath as darkness welled up reeking of all energies combined into a force that no child should have been capable of controlling.  It buzzed over his skin, sparks dancing through eco-blackened bones as it struggled to dissipate.  He didn’t scream, he never screamed, but a shout was torn from his throat nevertheless, a growl of rage more than a cry of pain—indignance at the knowledge that this was not how things were meant to be.

The instant metal met metal above, everything fell silent.  The sparking of energies ceased, the cry died in his mouth and his entire world went completely still.  Frozen, perhaps for all time.

Outside and high above, a boy was named a hero and a girl tentatively awarded the title of Sage in replacement for the man now locked deep within warm Precursor Metal, trapped forever caught in a gasp for breath.  A small animal that would one day have been a man had fate not conspired against him sat back and tried to be content.  He had saved the world, though not himself.  Surely that was still worthy of celebration.

They opened a gate, sealed for far too long, and light shone almost bright enough to pierce the violet gloom of the silent metal prison below.  Almost.  Soon, though, the light and the hero and his companions were gone, and stillness and quiet were all the remained both inside and outside the ancient silo.

And so it was and so it remained, until it had been for centuries.  Mountains rose around coppery metal, creatures of darkness tried in vain time and time again to open the tomb, to take possession of the energy it held.  The liquid darkness inside solidified, shifted with the rattle of earthquakes and explosions, pressed against metal, dented the cell, the sepulcher, outward little by little over too many years to count.

Eventually, the metal cracked.