Eskom was lost in his own compliance his body throbbed with a comfortable and reassuring rhythm, hypnotized by the sound of the one-voice. As the prophets continued their inert and silent watch over the throng, one of their number slowly began to move forward. He moved gracefully towards the very edge of the shrine, almost lost in the lights at the foot of the illuminated human sea. His white robe billowing gently in the breeze and as he moved even closer to the edge the brilliant illuminations seemed to engulf him totally as he became the pure white light that emanated into the night. His golden scepter hung low from his neck and sat at right angles to his hips. He grasped one end gently and with a swift movement he brought his arm above his head in a slow agonizing arc above his head. He paused in this position for eternity; the crowd hushed a great one-breath held in an exquisite painful pause. The moment stretched out, endless, to a building explosion of release.
Eskon watched it all; he sensed the coming chaos that spoke of joy and the boundless escape of noise. The breath held in a thousand, thousand lungs. The vacuum of the universe held in a moment, even the dawn seemed paralyzed by the expectation it too waited for time to flow forward once more, to break free from its frozen state.
The arm came down. A million separate notes of music that defined beauty, radiated love and power exploded into the sky and pounded the souls of all those that stood in its path. The multitude broke into a rapturous moan of joy that once more spoke to the void of boundless joy and fulfillment.
Eskon watched them erupt into the sky, hurtling up through the gloaming light into the atmosphere, expanding, accelerating out into the universe that birthed them. The random brilliance outshone the now pulsating lights, as they fell back to earth to seek new worshippers, eager to be caught and nurtured by the first virgin rays of the new day, the new sun, a new beginning and ending.
All were enlightened to the power of the chord, as the noble music of an ancient time sang into the fresh morning air. Words long since unsung were now remembered as the one-voice spoke to the dawn, to creation and the mother earth. The totem sound of a forgotten time was reborn, birthed in electric genius by the prophet. This sound once played long ago by a brother of the universe and traveler of the stars was now again, worshipped and revered.