Saturday, February 18, 2017

An eve turns a day turns an eve

It is queer I think that this journey south I take would would make my skin tingle with night's cool breath. This fire that dances before me is again my security and my warmth. I stretch out my hands and feel the touch of life itself. Fire is life; and death. I bask within its glow and feel the moisture bubble across my face. Should I not be warm in these southern reaches even as the night calls to me?

I look skyward into the blackness of the heavens. The lights of the firmament seem to shimmer against their curtain. Do they have a purpose? Do I have a purpose? I look down again as a spark flees its prison, the pop of wood rising above the quiet crackle as my sticks surrender to their fate. It is their purpose to give me light and safety this night.

The daylight hours which guide my steps have begun to lessen in their wonderment. Those vistas that excited even in my dreams no longer tantalize. They mesh one into another as each day is stitched to the next. Even my nighttime dreams are stilted. They seem as desolate at the firmament.

I look ahead past the fire's light and know the path that I will walk this next morn. To my right the Sirris no longer beckons. My day passes to eve and once again since my departure from Authurn. He has a purpose in these lands. Perhaps I shall find my own in the coming days.


Monday, February 6, 2017

A day after

A day has passed since Authurn and I have parted company. This second sun begins to bring new life to my heart. As I pass one foot before the other I begin to feel more like myself, at least the self I have begun to know since I have left the confines of the Middle Valley. I feel the new warmth upon my shoulder, life's light from the east calling the world from the depths of its slumber. My confidence in the world around me is slowly returning as I struggle to shake the memories of my capture.

I look out now across the barren landscape and view the changing landscape as wild grasses and weeds, stunted wildflowers and awkward bare patches of soil have slowly taken the place of lusher fields across the edge of the Far Wilderness. I know this place only by the tales told within the Chrystum, though how those tales have come to be is a mystery. Few if any of a Sheima clan have walked its depths that these tales could be told. I as well have only now cast my first glances at its edges.

The Far Wilderness is a place in name only to most. I feel its call as I stop, my face turning fully unto the rising sun. I am bathed in its warmth now fully as I feel its heat wrap my soul. Perhaps this is my calling, my next step away from the Sirris. I look over my shoulder to spy the mountains that surround my homeland. I would likely be a third of the way down into the Dream Valley, the lowest of the lands within the Chrystum. Yet, without a familiar marker, I may only guess at my progress. I turn and look again over the plains tinged with fading orange from the dawn.

South. My journey takes me south. Perhaps one day it will take be to meet the rising sun, but it shall not be this day.