An Incomplete History (Painting)

The painting depicts a marble structure, cracked and crumbling. An expanse of sand and dust stretches into the distance, the towering shapes of ruins carving jagged holes into the desert’s skyline. Broken and headless statues stand a silent vigil around the central dais. At the center of the structure stands a figure of indeterminate gender, a staff and sword gripped in their hands. Above the desert is the white outline of the sun eclipsed, casting the entire scene in unnatural darkness. A harsh white light shines from the figure’s staff, casting seven long and deep shadows in all directions.

Chains of bright and silvery metal reach out from around the figure, to the central subject of the painting — a vast creature of shadow, indistinct in nature. It appears serpentine, or perhaps draconic — though its shape is deliberately twisted and made uncertain. Does it have one head, or nine? Skin, or scales? Details are hidden in the dark of the eclipse, creating a creature that seems to be at once everything and nothing. It almost shifts before the viewer’s eyes.

Unmistakably, it has a mouth, the stark whiteness of its teeth clearly visible against the shadow. Its maw opens wide, as if roaring at the eclipse — or perhaps attempting to swallow the sun itself. The chains hold it back, each one anchored to the ground and seeming to shine with a subtle glow, illuminating the cracked and weathered marble. Long tendrils — or perhaps arms, or claws, or swords — reach out, slashing at the humanoid below. Blood stains the marble beneath them, but they stand firm, holding the wretched monstrosity in check. More chains seem to be forming, winding towards the foul thing.

Extremely close examination of the Beast shows what it is truly made from — humanoid forms, so shadowy and indistinct as to almost blend together. An uncountable mass of thousands, each one lost in the bulk of the chained monster. Above its maw, white lights burn like hateful stars. Faint lines in the darkness connect them, creating the image of both many eyes and a strange crown upon the Beast’s head. The shapes of swords, spears, and arrows can all be seen, driven into the creature’s hide — but not, it seems, dealing it a mortal blow.

The chains are breaking, even as new ones are forged. The links are stretched to their extreme, and tiny, near-imperceptible cracks can be seen in the metal. The Beast is both constantly bound and at the precipice of freedom, its terrible jaws opening wider and wider towards the sun.

A small signature can be seen in the lower corner: Z, 186 AR.

On the back, a few words have been written. They read: "[Undercommon]: 'An Incomplete History'. Zehra Sahin, 186 AR."