Andhaka Adiir
02-18-09, 12:41 AM
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Where do you go when you have the world completely open to you. If there is no corner you cannot visit, no secret door under which you cannot seep. Where do you go when you can fly as high or low as you wish and sneak unwatched into almost any group of people. Where do you go when all tangible options are open to you, and all you long for is the intangible past? What good is complete freedom and immortality if those you love can't share it with you?
Father...her only parent that had been present throughout her rearing; her mentor and teacher for all of her life. He grew old and she watched him become weak and feeble minded. Then he died. It was a natural death, peaceful and at old age. Better than most could hope for. He had no regrets, or so he claimed on his death bed when he spoke to her, gripping her hand. When he was gone, he looked the same...but it was as if a light had gone out that she had never noticed being on before. The darkness in his face pressed upon her oppressively, and her body went up suddenly in a wisp of glittering blue steam. She had grieved for him, blowing a dry wind storm upon the house, throwing everything about and seeping through the shattered windows to tear up the garden and even managed to dislodged a mailbox. What do I do now! He was my purpose! I was supposed to protect him!....true....but how could I protect him from time?
Her wind spirit heart and attention span would not let her mind weigh on such serious thoughts for too long, however, and she floated upwards from her spot on the rocky shore, out of the deep places of her mind and memory and her reverie. It was a dangerous place she stood, where no human could walk to or take a boat to and climb up, so traitorous were the rocks around this mere jetting of stone. Something inside of her knew that it was because of this danger that she was there. A halfling, wind spirit and human, she was too young to fully control her changes. If she got wet while insubstantial, she would turn back and fall, most likely to her death. Without turning to wind, she had no way to leave the ocean crag, and staying would mean starvation. Part of her realized this danger, but in her soul she could not take it seriously. It was adventure like a story book, intangible to her, unreachable, like the past, like her father, or even like her mother.
Then it happened.
She had decided to leave and find more living, breathing, feeling beings, and to immerse herself in their soothing minds and hearts and problems, when a big wave struck the side of the rock, just as she had taken to the air, causing sea spray to soak her misted form, instantly solidifying her.
The fall made her know fear careening at a speed she had never managed to fly towards likely death by blunt force trauma. It was, perhaps, the fear that saved her, a shock of emotion that usually turned her insubstantial, the heavy wetness that turned her solid were warring against her nature, trying to wreak their influence on her form that was plummeting at an alarming rate towards the water and rocks below.
She hit the water and it surged around her, the fear lost to the greater pressure of liquid materials. Darkness filled her vision as she sunk deeper below. Solid and human as her father, and in that form, capable of death, just like he.
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Where do you go when you have the world completely open to you. If there is no corner you cannot visit, no secret door under which you cannot seep. Where do you go when you can fly as high or low as you wish and sneak unwatched into almost any group of people. Where do you go when all tangible options are open to you, and all you long for is the intangible past? What good is complete freedom and immortality if those you love can't share it with you?
Father...her only parent that had been present throughout her rearing; her mentor and teacher for all of her life. He grew old and she watched him become weak and feeble minded. Then he died. It was a natural death, peaceful and at old age. Better than most could hope for. He had no regrets, or so he claimed on his death bed when he spoke to her, gripping her hand. When he was gone, he looked the same...but it was as if a light had gone out that she had never noticed being on before. The darkness in his face pressed upon her oppressively, and her body went up suddenly in a wisp of glittering blue steam. She had grieved for him, blowing a dry wind storm upon the house, throwing everything about and seeping through the shattered windows to tear up the garden and even managed to dislodged a mailbox. What do I do now! He was my purpose! I was supposed to protect him!....true....but how could I protect him from time?
Her wind spirit heart and attention span would not let her mind weigh on such serious thoughts for too long, however, and she floated upwards from her spot on the rocky shore, out of the deep places of her mind and memory and her reverie. It was a dangerous place she stood, where no human could walk to or take a boat to and climb up, so traitorous were the rocks around this mere jetting of stone. Something inside of her knew that it was because of this danger that she was there. A halfling, wind spirit and human, she was too young to fully control her changes. If she got wet while insubstantial, she would turn back and fall, most likely to her death. Without turning to wind, she had no way to leave the ocean crag, and staying would mean starvation. Part of her realized this danger, but in her soul she could not take it seriously. It was adventure like a story book, intangible to her, unreachable, like the past, like her father, or even like her mother.
Then it happened.
She had decided to leave and find more living, breathing, feeling beings, and to immerse herself in their soothing minds and hearts and problems, when a big wave struck the side of the rock, just as she had taken to the air, causing sea spray to soak her misted form, instantly solidifying her.
The fall made her know fear careening at a speed she had never managed to fly towards likely death by blunt force trauma. It was, perhaps, the fear that saved her, a shock of emotion that usually turned her insubstantial, the heavy wetness that turned her solid were warring against her nature, trying to wreak their influence on her form that was plummeting at an alarming rate towards the water and rocks below.
She hit the water and it surged around her, the fear lost to the greater pressure of liquid materials. Darkness filled her vision as she sunk deeper below. Solid and human as her father, and in that form, capable of death, just like he.
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