Sometimes your life-river changes direction so fast you can't quite follow; you just stand there like stupid and stare.
The signs had been aligning misfortunately. The air smelled sad, as if a ghost of heavy rain enveloped the forest, but could not pour. The ghosts as well - their presence I felt more than usual. The Witch's girl, I was acquainted with boggles' pranks, but something completely new and strange was amiss - I had no idea.
I saw a dragon's shadow slithe above the canopy, heading toward the range which sheltered my village. I followed it with my eyes as far as I could, as if trying to hold on to the occurence, as if I spotted a rare bird... You have to run now, idiot!
I remember sneaking out for night walks under the moon, taking joy in running free and not into people. Sometimes I went as far as the ruins of Krase the sleeping town. I found little covert nestings, where no one could find me, but from where I could watch over my whole dale in the ever playfully changing moonlight. It could be creeping the shakes out of me sometimes, it could mean hiding from predators of night - regardless, I was the queen of my own kingdom and I loved that. It's nothing like what ~that day was.
As I ran up the valley, I found home empty. Not the kind of empty when everyone is out by the river dancing; rather like a village abandoned hundreds of years ago, frozen in time. It looked as if some foul haze had dimmed the sun and sucked all color out of everything around. My own "helloes" were fading echoes of panic.
It was a ghost who picked me up and led to the light. He was shy and careful at first, walking around, calling, and disappearing again. Leading me away from the strange despair of my dear homestead. But down by the red river he greeted me warmly: I was saved and safe now. He came for me, and the nightmare dissolved, and the colors of dusk lit up around us, as the soft silk of his glove touched my cheek. I looked up to meet his eyes but saw none. The hand clasped shut a thinnest chain behind my neck. What was I thinking? I don't know. Of all what happened that day, going with my new companions felt like the rightest thing. So I did.
breakpoints
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Re: breakpoints
My mind vaguely puts these images together, as I lie on a pile of moist hay, right under the shed's roof. I've been living like a stray owl, bewildered by a storm and desperate for refuge. I fear the forest for its openness, exposure. For how much shadows it harbors at nights. I fear, they would find me there.
A day off stealing farmer's greens, lurking around the noise and stench of a human market, and hiding away in a hay shed brings me peace today.
You wash your clothes, you gather and cook, you excersize, explore and learn. Small things. Discipline - that's how you get by. When a seed of a distant forest falls on a strange land, storm-bound - does it grow roots, or does it wait around? That's what the old monk has been preaching me. He has a way with words; I don't know how I could have gotten through our journey if it wasn't for him setting me straight. He's got a neck-chain on him too.
He says the world is an old place, but great things are coming. Our grey lord is going to re-shape this world, he says, and a new dawn will find it beautiful and glorious.
I think of the last time I saw them. The lord and all his servants, the old monk, and myself. Everyone was festive and content - I understand, it was a day of big importance. "Almost there", they said. We are almost there. "Welcome", said the human mage. "After you".
I was standing in front of an open doorcase. There was nothing to see through it, really - had someone hanged a decrepit dusty rug in it, or was it the pitch dark of a blind cellar? I may had not had a lot of experience with doors, but I could tell when the lord opened a weird one.
Everyone simply went on. One by one, they disappeared in the door, until I was the only one left on this side. I just stood there for a while, looking around. I watched an empty paved street pass by a stone church, wiggle through farmlands, and disappear before the distant bushlines on the frontier. I watched a buzzing bee nest nearby. I looked back at the door. First time in what felt like an eternity, I was truly alone. I reached out until my fingertips almost touched the dusky matter of the gate. It tickled, inviting and hospitable, promising and friendly. I turned away and ran for as long as I could.
I can be way too slow on my head, I've been told. Other times though, I just do things.
A day off stealing farmer's greens, lurking around the noise and stench of a human market, and hiding away in a hay shed brings me peace today.
You wash your clothes, you gather and cook, you excersize, explore and learn. Small things. Discipline - that's how you get by. When a seed of a distant forest falls on a strange land, storm-bound - does it grow roots, or does it wait around? That's what the old monk has been preaching me. He has a way with words; I don't know how I could have gotten through our journey if it wasn't for him setting me straight. He's got a neck-chain on him too.
He says the world is an old place, but great things are coming. Our grey lord is going to re-shape this world, he says, and a new dawn will find it beautiful and glorious.
I think of the last time I saw them. The lord and all his servants, the old monk, and myself. Everyone was festive and content - I understand, it was a day of big importance. "Almost there", they said. We are almost there. "Welcome", said the human mage. "After you".
I was standing in front of an open doorcase. There was nothing to see through it, really - had someone hanged a decrepit dusty rug in it, or was it the pitch dark of a blind cellar? I may had not had a lot of experience with doors, but I could tell when the lord opened a weird one.
Everyone simply went on. One by one, they disappeared in the door, until I was the only one left on this side. I just stood there for a while, looking around. I watched an empty paved street pass by a stone church, wiggle through farmlands, and disappear before the distant bushlines on the frontier. I watched a buzzing bee nest nearby. I looked back at the door. First time in what felt like an eternity, I was truly alone. I reached out until my fingertips almost touched the dusky matter of the gate. It tickled, inviting and hospitable, promising and friendly. I turned away and ran for as long as I could.
I can be way too slow on my head, I've been told. Other times though, I just do things.