Day 5: Juggernaut

Word of the Day:



  1. any large, overpowering, destructive force or object, as war, a giant battleship, or a powerful football team.
  2. anything requiring blind devotion or cruel sacrifice.
  3. (initial capital letter) Also called Jagannath. an idol of Krishna, at Puri in Odisha, India, annually drawn on an enormous cart under whose wheels devotees are said to have thrown themselves to be crushed.

So, that last definition is fun.  I think I’ll avoid that one (both the suicide and the using of that definition).  Let’s see what else I can come up with.

For the god Ieyr, prophecy was neither a blessing nor a curse:  It was existence, an idol, a religion, and a juggernaut.  It was Purpose.  Without prophecy, without the vast desert of Time, Ieyr would not have existed.

Ieyr was not born; he began existing in the realm of his fellow gods, before there was an Earth or men to have destiny or time to study and read.  He knew where he was, and he knew that he was.  He decided he wanted to see, so he created for himself an eye—a single, sky-vast eye, bright blue, glowing even in the sourceless light of Immortality.  He saw no need for a body, but he created, too, a voice for himself.

Ieyr’s first words were these: Time has started.

Mydea was beside him.  She asked, When will it end?

Ieyr said nothing.

Many eons later, his single eye blue above the world, illuminated by what humans called the sun, Ieyr found Mydea in the expanse of existence and said, When we do.

Mydea understood.  A century later, she slipped down to the earth and created for herself a body with which to build her temple.

Ieyr laughed like thunder and said, Stone will crumble.

Mydea looked at the sky and smiled.  So will men, she said.

Cara Kennaway


5 thoughts on “Day 5: Juggernaut

  1. Oh, look, a word I’ve actually encountered before.

    You went an interesting direction with this. Very… deep. Nicely done.

    1. I thought the same thing (about the previous encounter with the word, I mean)! Sort of refreshing…

      Glad you liked it (ish?)! I based it on some of the mythology in Novel #3, even though I think I’m putting that on hold for a while.

  2. “Behold, gentleman, the relentless juggernaut of human progress!” he cried triumphantly, flinging the doors open.

    A cloud of smoke and steam billowed out of the aperture, and some of the scientists gathered there began choking and waving their hands in front of their faces. Dr. Hareton’s brow furrowed in annoyance.

    “Naturally,” he said, “with progress comes a certain amount of… emission. You cannot have fire without smoke. For goodness’ sake, gentlemen, the air will clear momentarily!”

    In fact, the air was already clearing. Beyond the doorway could now be seen the vague outlines of great, hulking shapes: Dr. Hareton’s machines.

    “Come, come,” he said briskly. “Follow me. I shall explain the function and purpose of each engine as we arrive at it. I hope you’ll all be taking notes. Now, this first fine invention that you’ll see on your left is…”

    He continued, quickly warming to his subject, as the small group of nervous-looking men trailed him, scribbling on notepads and trying to seem even half as enthusiastic as their host.

    But Dr. Collier hung back. He took off his spectacles and rubbed at his eyes, which were still streaming from the smoke. When he’d put them back on, he stood still and watched for a moment as Dr. Hareton rushed on, gesticulating wildly as he monologued about his prized mechanisms. Then Collier took a longer look around the room… or at least, at what he could see of it. Its dimensions were vast, the ceiling and far walls all lost to distance and obscured by the endless rows of clanking behemoths and the swaths of polluted air.

    Not all of the scientists there knew just what the purpose of those machines was, and Hareton certainly wouldn’t be telling them the truth. Most of those who did know were too afraid to do anything about it.

    But Collier knew. And Collier wasn’t afraid.

    “Madman,” he muttered under his breath as he took a last glance around the room.

    The plans were almost finished. The others were ready. It was nearly time to act.

    1. So this is intriguing. Now I want to know what’s being planned…

      Also, I just want to say it’s really interesting how you used ‘juggernaut’ here, essentially saying that progress is negative–or at least “destructive” and/or “requiring blind devotion or cruel sacrifice” (or at least saying that this particular progress is maybe less than fantastic). Well done!

      1. I’m not even entirely sure *I* know what’s being planned. The danger of writing from prompts, I suppose, is that there’s no time to actually build a setting and figure out what you’re talking about.

        Thank you. I can be pretty pretentious when I set my mind to it. :)

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