The Nightmare Never Ends Part 8

The siege of Tan'ayya is not going to last long. It is a clumsy attempt at an assault, an attempt to establish not a foothold, but a statement. One such statement was the beginning of this rebellion, a strike against the heart of the snakes held safe by a Dominion that lacks the will to be rid of monsters through force. Through inquisition. Through decisiveness. However, for all their faults, the Dominion bears a heavy hammer when agitated. The rebel forces seek to fight for their dreams, something I do admire, yet it is done the wrong way. The right way is the one I chose. They are but rich men who splash their paint awkwardly and mindlessly across the canvas, leaving behind naught but frustration and broken dreams. It takes one such as me to gather up the leftover artistic materials they leave behind and draw a masterpiece in the sky for all to see. Or the ground for some to tread upon.
 
In such an artistic way I continue down the path of my vision, as I circle Tan'ayya in search of those unfortunate enough to be fighting a losing battle near my position. When I first saw myself shatter before treason, I agreed to fight against the snakes... I never specifically said I would do it their way. I use their broken bodies as a canvas, their spilled blood as paint. With them, I write my story for others to see and follow. What joy do I find in this image of myself, creating art with a smile, accepting the sacrifice and tithe of the people before me. Do not worry young warrior, your death shall commemorate part of a legend written in blood and dream's ink. Your earthly belongings will fund to pave the way towards true freedom. True darkness, where all dreams can find nourishment and safety, until they are ready to surface.
 
As tomorrow comes once more, as promise after promise is made in blood, I find myself still here. None manage to seal me and my dream away, yet more and more try to do so. A nigh endless cycle, a vicious one, enforced by the gods in the name of mortals, a foolish ploy that flies above the ground, yet shyly lest it's faults are revealed.
 
The war will end, my use for it as well, I stride forth as the victor with spoils of war in hand. I used to like the colour red. Now, I love it. I used to love the colour purple. Now, I revere it. I used to fear the dark. Now I live in it. It's inhabitants used to scare me. Now they fear me. One day, they will understand me. One day, they will worship me. One day, I will lead them to the path of freedom. The path of dreams.