The Xi War

[Cirrial]

((I got bored and I had a nearly complete story flying around in my mind. So I decided to write the opening chapter, why not? >_> Feedback and critique strongly appreciated and encouraged. It takes place mostly on the Melesian worlds, which is where Cirrial comes from.
If you have no idea where any of the places mention are, or what they are, it'll be made clearer later on.))

PROLOGUE

A presence, a presence lurking. Waiting. Laying dormant.

Memories of conflict, voices screaming in agony and despair, silenced with a single act.
Memories, thousands of memories, of minds, whirling in desolation in a prison they cannot escape...

A presence, a presence lurking. Awakening. Realising.

A call. A prophecy fulfilled, predicted by none who still live. A message, emanating, treating distance as a mere toy.

# ...A weapon awakes... #
# ...I awake... I wish to serve... #
# I am awakened. The one to reach me... in my domain, dormant for ages forgotten... #
# My power will be yours. #

A gleam of shining back metal juts out abruptly of the barren dirt wasteland. A large conical spike, joined by others, piercing the crust of the small planet.

# Reach me, and my power will be yours... #

OBSTRUCTION

[i - Interception]

Albir woke up with a shock, a few white feathers drifiting to the floor. A Ryftkeeper got little rest, and to have his sleep interrupted by such a... a... He tried and failed to find words. Dreary, and still half asleep, he managed to pull himself out of the soft blue chair that had served so well as a bed.
The stress of whatever he had just experienced was beginning to show. He caught himself glancing nervously around, and saw a trail of molting plumage. He shuddered, and felt thankful he couldn't remember whatever he dreamed.
Assuming, of course, it was a dream. Reach me, and my power... He halted. Words he did not imagine himself took form in his mind, and he quickly interrupted them mentally before anything else could rise.
Aimlessly ambling around his quarters, he looked around at the pastel blue walls, searching for a mirror. He examined himself, and quietly cawed in subtle dislike. He'd have to sort something out. His feathers were in quite a disarray. He must have been moving wildly in his sleep again.

He closed his eyes, stopping a recollection of events that had started to surface. Curiosity lost against the knowledge that he could have a breakdown if he recalled something as vaguely powerful as that which breached his very essence. Or he might end up like those few he had met before, who had either destroyed themselves or their minds.
~Focus. Focus on waking up, when events are less likely to affect sanity.~
He resisted the urge to preen, but such was a common instinct for the avian species of Meles. ~You're a Ryftkeeper, Albir. Don't waste time on such trival matters.~ He casually glanced over his white feathers, subtle blue and mauve hues almost flowing across in a vague wash of colour. He brushed his torso down with a foretalon, and shook his head. ~Another time... I need to hide this mirror, I really do. I don't like to be so vain.~
He cast a glance to the floor with his ice blue eyes, at the plumage littering the shiny sapphire floor. He gave a quiet chirp, and a small serpentine machine crawled out of its hiding place in a wall, metal tendrils reaching out and grabbing feathers, before swiftly slithering back.

Albir sat down in thought. Reach me- No, he still did not feel ready to draw this phrase out of his subconscious.
~Someone else must have received it. ...Someone else!~
He jumped up in alarm, opened the door and ran down the innumerable teal corridors of the Havenshell, a moon-sized bastion in the chaotic realm of the Ryft. The Ryftkeeper's headquarters.

~I've got to stop the message from reaching others!~
He sprinted down the corridors, doors opening responsively, until he reached the central command centre.
He lifted a foretalon and smacked a button with all his might. It wasn't until seconds later he remembered psionic dampening fields could render minds dormant for hours, maybe months, maybe even years.
As soon as he remembered this, he slumped over the control panel, and slid down onto the floor, unconscious.

* * *

"A dam? In a lake? Are you mad?"
Cirrial stared accusingly and eyelessly at the floating motes of energy in front of him. They drifted and sparkled in the wind, floating towards and away from each other.
"Iwe can assure you that weI amare not mad, and that it was not ourmy decision to being with. The Conclave has ordered meus and several others to construct a dam through the middle of the Mana Pool."
The motes glittered matter-of-factly, and danced among the breeze. Cirrial shook his head, ears swaying in response, a faint splashing as the water construct rippled in response to this motion.
"No, I acknowledge it wasn't your decision, but I've worked for the Conclave before, and this seems to be an extremely uncharacteristic action, Iseis."
The motes fluttered. "weI can only apologise that we have to do this, but we are all only obeying the Conclave in doing so. If you still feel strongly opposed, Iwe suggest taking your views to the Conclave itself."
Cirrial's ears drooped. "They'll just shrug it off as a resistance to change. They'll just say I'm concerned because this is where I incarnated. And to be fair, that is the only reason I'm worried about this thing. I still can't understand why the Conclave would choose to act so hastily and without developing public support... Perhaps the state of the Meles Alliance is in decline."
The entity referred to as Iseis pondered. "Iwe should hope that is not the case. Anyway, weI should probably be getting back to work. Nice conversing with you." The motes of light flowed off away, slowly and leisurely.

Cirrial sat down. "Still... a dam though a lake..." ~The last time someone proposed such a thing, they inadvertantly revealed their motives to be a simple case of distilling half the lake for whatever makes it so special. The construction was halted, and the guy responsible fined for abuse of natural resources.~
~I can't imagine the Conclave going against their own philosophy of preserving the natural wonders of the Melesi planets. If they are... No, that doesn't even bear thinking about. ...Still - No. The Conclave are trustworthy. The entire populace voted them into power.~
~Still, that's what happened on other worlds, and I know from first-hand experience how they turned out...~
~No. Cirr, snap out of it. Meles has stood strong, united, at the best and worst of times.~
But then a new thought occured to him. ~Glory fades, and civilisations fall...~

[Ruster]

CoooooooooooooooOOoooooooooooooool

I love your style of writing, it makes it really easy to visualise the things you describe.
Would be nice to see spaces between the paragraphs though, It makes it waaay less daunting to read

[Cirrial]

Edited with spaces. Now less daunting to read. >_>