Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Light of the World

Salutations fellow cyber nomads. Tis I, the Stranger, and welcome to the blue oasis of my words. I hope you may find no poisonous insects or venomous snakes among my beach like denizens, except those already defanged and made examples to the determent of their fellows. This next short story is great in length, so please do not be deterred by its size. I've decided I shall attempt to fight the fatigue which threatens to engulf me so completely by singing the breath in my soul to all of you. It might be a faint wind, but even the faintest winds bring refreshment and stir the branches from their...

Silvan sleep, the majestic trees crowned the dark forest floor. Nighttime hung like a sheet along the way and every resting thing sighed in unison with the breeze. Many a sloth rocked as so many hammocks and the great bird of flames itself slumbered amidst its dancing ashes whilst the retarded flames in its feathers twinkled and sparked with a madness peculiar to fire.

As the Sun hid his face and the Moon, that love struck maiden, chased after him a native traversed the hushed woods with reverence. For he feared to stir some ill spirit or awaken those yellow eyes which spare none. So he walked softly and let his eyes look for patterns and shapes instead of colors or movement. If he was being stalked at any time looking for movement was sure to get one killed. With only his thin but sharp spear as his defense he would have but one sure strike at any large predator before it would kill him.

He rested against a giant tree and opened his ears for the sounds of the night. The deep resonant tone of river frogs could be heard nearby, the occasional night bird sounded its voice at the stars, and the snap of a twig nearby was what he heard. The twig, such a small branch but by its sound has saved many lives. The huntsman was high in the tree only seconds later and he peered into the depths of the darkness for any fellow hunter. He saw only shadows, he heard only the restless wind, but the hairs on his neck said something lurked upon the earth.

He continued to travel, more like an arboreal creature now, leaping among the trees with the ease of long practice. Often he stopped to look and listen and just as often did he see and hear nothing. Finally he approached a break in the trees, a small river and one which must needs be crossed. The water was gray in the moonlight and by its property acted like a vanity for the lunar face. The jungle bred warrior hid himself in the leaves and listened long. Only the usual sounds of the soft water met his sharp ears. Quickly he left the protection of his tree and faster still he forded the waters.

As he climbed his next fortress he checked behind him for his pursuer, because it must show itself in order to cross as well. Some bushes parted and into the silver light stepped a proud tiger. His eyes were clearly locked onto the traveler, while a deep rumble emanated from his throat, and he began to gingerly attempt the river. Apparently the big cat was not overfond of water and he decided there was easier prey in the massive jungle. For the woods were his water, and as he slipped past the surface of the greenery no trace of his presence remained.

Feeling much safer now the quester traveled swiftly upon the ground, he had lost precious time to being stalked but now he must do his own stalking. The faint predawn ghost-light began to make all colors equal in their blur, and the time for spying was finally upon him. He located a particularly tall tree and practically ran up it. When he reached the top his eyes began their search, flames, where are the flames? In a nearby valley he spotted a dim flicker and he smiled. Finally, perhaps he may touch his destiny.

He traveled quickly towards his mark and the scenery itself joined the blend of its colors. When the tale of fire's light began to tell against the night he slowed and stole his way to it. And in the recess of the darkness the grim eve was pierced by the living light. Sparks rose with joyous dance, flame brightened and softened in a rhythm, and the mystical creature of feathers and spirit breathed in slumber. Its feathers all glowed in an awesome light, so purely, and the peace of its security was evident in the choice of its bed. On the ground, in the night, in the jungle of predators. The phoenix feared not any of those things.

The native's final task was to somehow master this great bird. Yet how could he? It smoldered and he could feel the heat from thirty yards away. It was massive in form and he perceived when it would awaken its strength and size would only increase. It seemed like such a beast suffered not to be mastered, but try he must or die at the hands of his own tribe. He approached its head, gingerly stepping so as not to make a sound, and when he was close enough to touch it he did so.

In a flurry of bright and sudden movements he found himself on his back, and a burning talon pinning him there, between earth and flames. The glory of the awakened phoenix was mesmerizing, fire of so many colors chased across its wings, and the morning itself was hidden by the light which tore it. Then the tribesman looked into its eyes, and was met by a scrutinizing stare. The massive depths he found there froze his soul even as his body was burning, already burning. Then their meeting was truly inaugurated by the heavens themselves, for the moon had caught up to the sun and the world was thrown into shadows.

Now, the man thought, now perhaps its strength will wane. But instead the creature cocked its head as though listening and in its talons he grasped the sweltering man. Into the sky it dived, and ascended beyond any mark or boundary. It was there the phoenix gave life to its call and the beauty of it made the man weep, the beauty he wanted for himself. They flew for a time and the firebird increased its flame to become the sole light of the world and its brilliance surpassed the Sun.

The man was let down inside his own village and the magnificent thing suffered itself to stay. The chieftain cried in delight, and a sort of mania. "Now our great sacrifice is arrived!" He shouted into the seeming day. He motioned for him and told him because he had brought it he had the honor to kill it. Yet how, why, should it be sacrificed to appease our village god, thought the man. He stood there torn, gazing into the eyes of all his fellows pleading and begging them with his thoughts. A cold wall they seemed to him, urging him on with their existence.

Then he took his spear, raised it to the heavens, and drove it into the phoenix. They danced around its black corpse while the Sun left the Moon's shadowed embrace and in the sunlight he saw a white object underneath the bird. An egg, great and lovely to behold like a gem of many colors, and also like a frozen flame. He took it and ran from his homeland, and lost himself in the trees. He spent his days hiding from his former family and soon from the egg burst a bird, small, but with its life his own was replenished, and by its flames he felt the coal in his heart be replaced with jewels.

Dt

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Brilliant Aprisal Begins Yon

Dear readers, I the Stranger have an announcement of enormous proportions to share with you. I am an uncle, an uncle to a yet unborn child. This child carried by my beloved and beautiful sister shall be nurtured and cared for by loving and wonderful parents, as well as an oddball uncle. This update is simply to huge to not be cataloged here, so here it is. In accordance with my sister's wishes I have not used certain electronic means of notification (such as facebook or myspace etc.) to communicate this joyous news and I would ask you to refrain from doing the same. But nevertheless, I must proclaim, I am an uncle and an uncle I shall remain.

Dt

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