Brownie

Hey there! I'm Brownie, and this is the first work I've published, ever! I sometimes just write in a word document when I'm bored, and this one seemed interesting enough to share with others. If enough people actually enjoy it, I'll definitely consider turning it into a full-on story. There's a poll at the end, so just let me know how it was. Thanks for reading!

In the corner of a clean, well-kept room sat a wizened old man. His dark skin tone matched his white hair and eyes excellently; making it obvious that, if he were about 30 years younger, he would have been extremely handsome. His eyes, which seemed to have lost the burning passion they had once possessed, darted around the room. They lingered over the impressively massive bed, the gold-adorned door-frame, the wide-open balcony with red satin drapes flowing into the room due to a gentle breeze, before eventually focusing on a polished piece of bronze. The ornate chair that he sat on trembled and groaned as he forced his creaky joints into an upright position. Hobbling his way over to the bronze mirror, the man stared into his reflection. His reflection stared back, surrounded by a golden hue. The man gazed into the fire-less eyes that remained unblinking in the mirror and sighed heavily.

“How much I have aged…” He raised his wrinkled hand, to touch upon the creases on his cheeks and forehead. Giving a mirthless laugh, he continued his soliloquy.

“Despite my ferocity in my youth… Despite raising myself to the highest position among men… Despite calling myself a God… In the end, I can only bow before the ever-changing winds of time?”

His face began contorting, and his eyes flashed a deep shade of blue, then red, and then green, before returning to the original white color. The man's visage, however, remained malicious.

“For what? For what have I struggled so long for? I started with nothing, and now at the end I have everything.” The man turned away from the mirror, heading towards the open balcony. His footsteps lead him past the curtains of satin, and he stepped forward until his hands could reach the metal railing that had been polished to perfection. He gazed down at the sight that welcomed him. A gentle darkness shrouded the city below him, fended off by the occasional light from lanterns held by guards, and tall posts that shed a constant glow. The city was beautiful, with it’s wide and clean streets, neat rows of buildings, and wide river that passed beneath a gigantic bridge. His eyes came to rest on a large golden statue, raised in the middle of a square near the palace from which he looked down.

The statue held a certain likeness to the man, albeit looking many years younger. He held a spear made from gold, with designs of dragons engraved into the shaft. His cape seemed to billow in the wind, despite remaining still. His expression was fierce yet gentle; domineering towards his enemies, yet kind to his allies. He stood with one foot raised, stepping on the body of what appeared to be a demonic creature. His spear was raised towards his front, as if the battle had only just started and he was leading the charge himself.

“40 years…” The old voice sighed tragically. “40 years ago, I was the fiercest man in the entire world, yet look at me now.” He moved his head to look at his wrinkled hands, flipping them over time and time again, as if he was looking for something that wasn’t there.

“Yes, I started with nothing and now I possess the entire world. And yet… why? Why is it that I feel so empty?” He eyes moved up towards the sky, capturing the gentle moonlight that poured down from the white, round shape in the sky.

“Mother… No, that was simply my lies. I have no mother, as I have no father. The Gods of my creation that are worshiped by all in this world are nothing more than the fabrications of my mind. All of them.” He craned his neck downwards to stare at the invisible horizon, shrouded in darkness.

“And that includes me as well. A God? Me? Ha.” A self-mocking smile on his lips, he continued his lonely speech.

“No, I have never been a God, and I never will be. Despite the unlimited power at my fingertips, I cannot turn back time.” His eyes once again returned the statue once more, admiring the youthfulness in the young emperor’s expression.

“Turn back time… huh?” His eyes widened, suddenly realizing an important fact.

“Turn back time… why would I want to do such a thing? Would that not simply be a mockery of my efforts to reach this point?” He nodded his head to himself frantically.

“Yes, yes! I have no true desire to turn back time, but yet I wish to return to my youth. And thus, the solution is simple." He squeezed the metal railing that supported his aged body, leaving a deep palm-shaped groove in the material.

"The only question is… Do I have enough strength in this feeble body of mine?” His gaze returned once again to his wizened hand, which made a trembling fist.

“Hah, am I truly questioning my own strength? I’m well aware of it… even at this old age of mine, I am the strongest in the world.” He lifted his head up suddenly, staring at the moon that had shifted its position since he had last looked. He was unaware of the passion and life that had returned to his gaze, which seemed as though it would cause the very moon to quiver.

“In the past I became the strongest, in the present I am the strongest… and in the future, I shall once again become the strongest.” A confident smile, that the world had not seen for many years, once again appeared on the face of the emperor of the world. He slowly lowered his head to look at his city that he had built using a foundation of thousands of lives.

“I suppose this will be goodbye, for now.” His lips raised in a fearless grin. His eyes flashed with all the colors of the rainbow, before once again returning to white, this time shining brilliantly. The light emitted from his eyes covered soon his body, then his palace, then his city, and then the very world.

And then he made a declaration to the Gods that he had created, the cities that he had built, and the world that he had conquered.

“Look on my works, Ye Mighty, and despair!” The white light changed to a deep, angry red.

“My name is, at this moment and forevermore in the future, Ozymandias!” The color shifted to a bright, cheerful orange.

“In the past I conquered everything, and in the future, I shall conquer it once more!” A pale, feeble yellow shone down upon the world.

“Though the sands of time will shift, and my name may lay forgotten in the annals history, I shall return once more!” A forest-green, the color of lush palm leaves surrounding an oasis, poured throughout the universe.

“The tears of my enemies and the cheers of my comrades, all shall return to this world once more!” A sorrowful blue encapsulated the round planet.

“For I have discerned that I have not yet completed my journey; I have yet to be satisfied!” The blue deepened into a darker shade of corrupted indigo.

“Despair, enemies of past, present, and future!” A jarring violet threatened to dye all in its color.

“For I am Ozymandias! And death… Cannot hold me!” The light shone in a blinding, greedy, golden hue that penetrated the world before vanishing suddenly, and the man who had conquered the entire world fell forward off the balcony like a puppet with its strings cut, before his body crashed onto the dark brick below.