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Post by Sarin on Jan 18, 2009 0:21:39 GMT -6
It's story time! =D I'll just add a few things I've written here... they're mostly just short things, but read and critique them if you'd like. First, have some poems. All of these are pretty old - most of them a year or more - so they're not the best. But I do enjoy writing poetry... Sorry about all the "." on this one and the next, it's the only way that I can think of to get the formatting right... Well, here it is: Truth be told, I dream of flying...................I’m afraid of heights I dream of magic..................It always comes at a price I dream of dragons..............They don’t fit this world I dream of powers...............My life wouldn’t be mine I dream of quests................I’d be afraid I dream of wandering..........I’d miss those I know I dream of battle.................I don’t know how to fight I dream of challenges..........I’m bad under pressure I dream of wonder...............It leads to woe I dream of creatures...........We aren’t all friends I dream of comrades...........There’s always discord I dream of healing...............First there’s a wound I dream of spirits.................First there is death I dream of change...............It isn’t always good I dream of scenery..............They push you off of cliffs I dream of rescues..............Plans sometimes fail I dream of conquests..........Revenge follows I dream of balance..............It doesn’t exist I dream of miracles.............They’re far too rare I dream of things................but I easily scare.
This poem can be read four ways. Just the first column, just the second, the whole thing, or just the first letters in the second column. And don't you dare say this is at all related to the Twilight series. I wrote this back in 8th grade, at least a year before I ever heard of the books. Twilight Remember that year?...........................................Then We were happy,.................................................We Thought we were immortal and................................Ignored The very best things. We knew..............................Life ,Or so we thought, many things,............................In Our minds full of....................................................Glorious Thoughts and love,................................................Happiness Giving us strength to go through that endless twilight Together . A really old one, and one I've never been completely happy with. >> Perception In real life as well as dreams, the truth's not always what it seems: And though you find answers and more They’re rarely what you’re looking for.
So walk on proud with head held high, Become something before you die. You still have time to be unique Before you find what all must seek.
And if ever a harsh word is said, Let it drift away with dreams instead. Be strong, and pay these doubts no heed, For you alone know what you need.
So walk out proud and sing to all, Of life and joy, and of the call That tells you that to live your life, You must not be knocked down by strife.
And if ever someone curses you, Know in your heart their words aren’t true, For their perception cannot bind The whole of your wondrous mind.
While a cover may match a book, You cannot know all with just one look. And so in life as well as dreams, The truth’s not always what it seems. Yep, another oldie. Leaning I’ve seen you smile, I’ve seen you cry, I’ve sat with you as time flew by, I’ve been by your side forever, Helping through your life’s endeavor.
I’ve seen you laugh, I’ve seen you sigh, I’ve seen your face as your hopes die, And I’ve wished that I could do Something sometime just for you.
There still are times when we must cry And call to no one, asking “why?” Echoes often all to hear Even with other souls near.
So lost are we within this dream, Hearing the sound of our own scream. But as I have learned firsthand, Take my arm and we can stand. A sonnet, inspired by Shakespeare. I have been told that many things are pure, That goodness reigns within each beating heart. As eyes are lowered kindly, we are sure In that the ends will justify the start.
And so our smiles hide no guilt inside, No shame for other’s greedy eyes to see. It seems we have eternity to bide, To starve and feast and practice ev’ry plea.
But if we change our ways with each new day, We lose ourselves amidst the sifting sands. By treading down each oft-forsaken way, We lose the truths once resting in our hands.
But if we never try, we lose this too, So in the end, what is mankind to do? Ready for a really weird one? But this one is growing on me. Innate How easily those dragons soar Through skies of sea, fire, and dark. They summon fear with ev’ry roar, And to their cries all men still hark.
How easily the lark doth fly, ‘Neath bristled trees overhead, As if he does not even try, Or someone else does in his stead.
How easily the eagle wings, His feathers radiant in the light. Staring down on earthbound things, He does not share their earthbound plight.
How easily the raven waves His wings like banners in the air. He loses all for which he craves, Yet rides the wind without a care.
How easily the winged ones fly, The dragon, lark, eagle, and crow. This they can do, but O, not I! They fly high, I watch, below. Written on a random burst of inspiration. I don't know much about the story behind this one, only that a young homeless boy came begging at the door of a woman sometime in the past, perhaps the early 20th century. And the end is meant to be left undone. Finis Please don’t send me away, I only ask what I need to live; I have naught but myself, weakened, I cannot work. Please don’t send me away.
Couldn’t you spare a breath, Just a greeting to cheer my heart? I can’t live on that, but at least I’d die after seeing goodness, So couldn’t you spare a breath?
Ah, but you are like them too, I am worthless, so you give me nothing of worth. Only scorn, harsh gazes, beatings and spit. Yes, you are like them too.
Your eyes don’t see me, friend. You see only my ragged flesh. Am I reduced to naught but a stereotype? Your eyes don’t see me, friend.
You place hard wood between us, So I can’t see you either. Through the cracks I call silently, and you just Place hard wood between us.
I’ll wander on, friend, Thought my strength weakens at each door. Turned away each time, always despair. I’ll wander on, friend.
Ah, if these words could turn hearts, Could summon compassion out of stone. For soon enough my own heart will lay still. Ah, if these words could turn hearts.
I do not feel the cold, my friend. I am too numb already. But your silence cuts deep, in oft opened wounds. I do not feel the cold, my friend.
How does one know when one is dead? No one seems to hear me, So perhaps I am long gone, departed. How does one know when one Written after seeing the movie 'Gallipoli' in English class. Dancing fire lights the skies as broken watches synchronize. Time means death for all still here, waiting in suspenseful fear.
Fire stops and thunder mellows, Eyes glance around to other fellows. Foreboding stirs, it has gone wrong, but they must march, their army strong.
Ringing plays a fatal tune, for the fire has stopped too soon. Hardened hearts hold hubris dear, the fate of the men is clear.
Watches scream out their control, fighters charge the filling hole. One man runs to stop the fight, before death descends in the night.
Time again is not a friend, the runner only sees the end. Over the harsh sounds that fly, no one can hear his cry.
The gun is dropped, the soldier runs, his heart beating with everyone's. A shot rings out, blood flicks his face, Frozen in eternal grace.
we had an assignment a while ago in my English class to take any poem and write our own paraphrasing of it. So this is what I did. It's just a paraphrasing, so it isn't very original, but oh well. The top poem is the original, the bottom is mine. "Ode" by Arthur O' Shaughnessy We are the music makers, We are the dreamers of dreams; Wandering by lone sea-breakers, And sitting by desolate streams; World-losers and world-forsakers On whom the pale moon gleams, But we are the movers and shakers Of the world forever, it seems.
With wonderful deathless ditties, We build up the world’s great cities; And out of a marvelous story, We fashion an empire’s glory. One man with a dream, at pleasure, Shall go forth an conquer a crown; And three with a new song’s measure, Can trample an empire down.
We, in the ages lying, In the buried past of the earth, Built Ninevah with our sighing, And Babel itself with our mirth. And destroyed them with prophesying, For the old of a new world’s worth; For each age is a dream that is dying, Or one that is coming to birth.
"Ode v. 2" by Sarin We are the ones play sweetly, Who sleep with visions of light; Wandering alone discreetly, And sitting with dark void in sight. The fallen and the burners, For the glistening moon to see, Yet we are the makers and turners Of the world for eternity.
With phrases we raise to the sky, We raise our great cities on high; With words, weaving their spell, An empire’s wonder we tell. One man, so inspired, can try, To achieve the power he seeks, And letting a song’s melody fly, The strong is toppled by weak.
In that mythical past of ours, Recorded in dirt and in stone, We brought forth our cities and towers, With our struggles and spirit alone. Lies of the past and the future, Destroyed to give us a past, For each age is a dream we can nurture, Or one that is passing too fast. And that's all the poems I'll post for now. I'll get some newer ones up later, and add some short story fragment things as well.
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Post by Sarin on Jan 18, 2009 22:04:36 GMT -6
Here's something both newer and longer. Newer as in written within the last week. ^^; Anyways, it's a story fragment for a character heavily based off of a webcomic I really like. :3 If you know what comic it is, I will be very happy. xD
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Everyone has their demons. I perhaps have a few more than most, and react to them more strongly – but after all, mine are real, so I have an excuse. But if you can’t understand something – or someone – it’s better just to be rid of them. And if you think they might be a threat in some way, then it’s best to lock them far away from civilization.
And that is how I found myself in the nightmarish cross between a prison and an asylum. I had committed no crime, advocated no treason, spoken no madness. But I had spoken words that the relevant authorities could not understand, and so I was condemned to a place that will surely make you mad if you were not already insane upon admission. What can I say? I was blamed for the blindness of the majority of humanity. It is not my fault that they cannot see the spirits and ghosts, nor is it my fault that these same forces seem to enjoy following me about. But then they put chains on me and left me to rot. Every word I spoke was to them madness, every plea I made to be let free was scorned and ignored. To our ‘custodians’ we were mere beasts, subhuman creatures. They would just as soon see us rot and die in that place as they would see us free – in fact, putting my mind to the idea I would not be surprised in the least if they preferred to see us die. I almost pity those who were in there for insanity, for surely there was no hope of a cure in that asylum. And for me, for one who was imprisoned unjustly? Every day was an eternity, and every day seemed to strip my soul barer and barer. So after nearly a year of eternities, the spirit’s interest in me went to good use. I’ll just say that they would for some reason prefer to drive other people to the point of insanity than they would see me pushed off the edge. And so, bound still by chains, I made my way out into the world again, suspicious of each shadow.
Those feelings of fear and paranoia faded away with time, as freedom repaired the damage that the asylum had caused me. And if the circumstances surrounding my release were a little cloudy, then I made sure I was not enough of an interest for anyone to bother with poking around my history. I lived well; I had money enough from… certain sources, and was able to settle easily into the life of a rich man. But though I had long since shed the chains that had confined me during my nightmare, reminders lurked around every corner, and in the back of every thought. And the spirits still followed, in their ageless, fleeting manner; and I was plagued with new afflictions.
I remain silent, often; and withdrawn, because speaking my mind took me to that dreadful place. But staying in silence too long is dangerous; one may easily slip into thoughts that one does not wish to experience. No one else that I know sees these ghosts who trail behind me, some no longer believe that such things even exist at all. In the eternity of torture and prison, my every thought had shouted the injustice of my situation and proclaimed that I was sane; in the eternity of empty, high-bought freedom, I begin to wonder if I truly am mad – or at the very least, dreaming.
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Post by Sarin on Jan 18, 2009 22:09:55 GMT -6
A somewhat older story, several months old. It's about a character of mine on Mistic... all you need to know is that Gurahdis are basically large bird-like humanoids, and that they also can come in an oceanic variant.
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My parent’s friends used to always joke that I had learned to fly before I could even walk. And while that endearment might not have been true, it was sure that I had learned to fly – and learned to fly well – faster than most. I’d left the nest for the first time before I was three weeks old, and had spiraled among the currents. My wings were little more than feathers, so I couldn’t really steer – it was miraculous enough that I managed to stay airborne – but I was more than content to bob happily through the invisible streams that caressed me more gently than even the touch of my mother. The strands of the wind sang a lullaby to me, and it felt as if the world slowed to allow this brief instance which should have been forbidden to me to stretch and last for what felt like hours.
By the time I was the proper age for a fledgling – about nine weeks old – my feathers had advanced much farther. While my age-mates struggled not to plummet towards the earth, I twisted and swooped, delighting in my freedom. This was my calling. I was Flight Itself, a victorious Icarus, the wind my ally and the mighty sun itself turning its glorious beams upon me so that I might shine as brightly. I was not arrogant, not even then, I showed off only to myself: lost in a world of wonder, it felt as if there was no one else.
For a Gurahdi, flying, of course, is natural – we fly every day no matter what our job, our duty to the Cast. But I knew that I could never be content with that. My life couldn’t just include flying, my life had to be flying. I spent hours – days, even – flying high, drifting among the currents of the air or slicing through the walls they made. I tired, yes, but each ache in my wing gave me a thrill. I grew hungry, but the sun’s rays fulfilled me. I drank the very essence of the clouds and felt that my life was blessed.
But then the day came that I grew of age. I turned my eyes sadly towards the sky, feeling its pull like the moon to the tides. A working Gurahdi had a duty to the Cast, and there was no way that a break of days would be granted simply to indulge oneself in the everlasting blue, feeling the caress that still touched me as deeply as it had when I had been a child. To me, this could have been a death sentence, and my wings curled about me, each feather tingling with the same yearning I felt in my heart. I had been out of the sky for only a few hours.
Joy within sadness. The elders of the Cast were not cruel birds who used their brethren for mere labor; they watched and thought and were wise. So as I mourned my death, they cast me a lifeline and I clung to it. I was to be a Guide. The job held some honor, but was also avoided. The territory was large, which meant that as a Guide one would live without the comforts of home for most of their life, sometimes hanging on the edge of life in order to complete their duty. But I knew that I needed not of these earthly comforts, for with the duty of the Guide the sky was returned to me.
I no longer flew alone, so my freedom was limited. But the moment I took wing again, I could not feel cheated, all dark emotions faded away and joy buoyed up my heart just as the wind raised my wings. Always a member of the Cast despite my preference to roam alone, I took my job seriously. I took care of my charges, finding the gentlest currents without fail and accepting the role of the guardian who provided for his charge before himself. Sometimes I would be Guide to earthbound creatures, and then though I mourned in my mind I would tighten my wings without complaint and travel for many days on foot, not allowing myself to touch the sky even once until my task was completed. As I once had in flying, I excelled in my duties and never let my charges meet with misfortune. I took them across the wide lands, by mountains of fire and swamps of toxins, but it was rare for any to receive even the slightest scratch while under my guidance. And so I lived for many years, returning to my home only rarely and then only for a short time. The stars counted my days but I did not, and so my time seemed to be limitless.
One day changed all that. I had guided a charge to their destination a few days ago and was flying back to my outpost. Though I was now alone, I could still not fully enjoy the sky’s pleasures as my duty urged me ever-faster. But I took a sharper course, the winds slicing across my feathers as I forced the raging force to my will. I made good time, and could already spy the outpost, two bird-like figures upon it. Even from afar, I could easily recognize one of the two as a fellow Guide. Though we shared the same outpost, we usually shared no more than a nod of recognition – I must admit that though I know he told me his name at our first meeting, I cannot recall it. The other figure confused me as I drifted downwards in my approach. It was no Guide that I knew, but if it were a charge then my fellow Guide should have taken it already.
My eyes were glued to the strange Gurahdi – for I had confirmed it to be a Gurahdi – as I grew ever nearer. Her feathers were strange, sky-blue in color but adorned with radiant orange frills the like of which I had never seen. At first I thought with wonder that she must be some messenger of the heavens to bear its colors, but then I noticed that even her wings had been replaced with these frills – how steep the cost must be for such an honor, to serve the sky but lose it also! Else she was not of the sky at all, but some strange new cousin that I had never seen.
Both my fellow Guide and the stranger watched me as I landed lightly on the stone platform, my talons clicking against the earth as they took over from my wings. I could not help but stare at the resplendent Gurahdi, so beautiful in her imperfection! “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Her words carried with them the rush of the wind but stranger, echoing and great yet as calm as the sky. Her amber eyes held the sun but a diminished form of it, mysterious and gentled. In my young foolishness I had once thought myself Flight Itself, now struck by her form I silently nicknamed her Not-Sky. She was almost sky incarnate, but in every feature something was a little strange and I could not place it.
But… waiting? I glanced past her to my fellow Guide, who let out a slight shrug before turning away. By all rights she should have gone with him, why had she waited? But as she gestured for me to come, I figured that it was not my place to ask. No, instead I had to ask something much more personal.
“Can you… fly?” My voice was hesitant as I made my inquiry. What shame, what woe it must cause to be a Gurahdi unable to fly! Could I have earned the enmity of this brilliant Gurahdi through my own necessity? I am sure that my nervousness was shown clearly in my eyes, for she smiled so sweetly that my concerns were carried away as if a breath of the dawn had brushed by my cheek.
“Downwards,” was her reply, and without another word she smoothly pushed off from the cliff, barely slowed by her inefficient frills as she spiraled towards the ground. Casting one last glance at my fellow Guide, I leapt off the platform and followed, my wings outspread to send me gently down – I wanted to keep an eye on my strange new charge.
Though her ‘flight’ of sorts was not as smooth as those of my cast were accustomed to, her strong – and webbed, I noticed – feet and legs caught her easily on the ground and she stood without harm. I landed much more gently, my talons bending like young tree limbs as the sky relinquished me and I returned to the earth. And then we stood, no more than a few feet apart, my eyes stern and inquisitive. Hers seemed to sparkle with hidden laughter, and I could have groaned – this was, no doubt, going to be a long journey, and I already missed the sky.
“Where are you headed, miss?” I asked, wanting to get started soon.
“You are Yerai, the Guide, are you not?” My ears perked curiously. Could she not wait until we began for the chat?
“I am. Now, where are we headed?..” I repeated myself, putting more emphasis on it. Firstly I was longing to be done with this task and back to the skies, but perhaps the real reason was the one that I tried to hide from myself: I didn’t know how long I could stand looking at her strange beauty.
She smiled again, a mischievous smile that made me ever more befuddled. “You have guided people to their destinations for a long time now without rest. So now I will return the favor. Follow me, please.” Without hesitation she turned and began running, her feet carrying her more quickly than I would have expected. Still mystified, I obeyed.
We ran for a long time and she never said a word, which gave me plenty of time to consider what I was doing. Did this count as neglecting my duties, or was her presence enough to justify this strange turn of events? I worried away the minutes, easily following her vibrant feathers through the stark browns and greens of the forest. Where were we headed? As a Guide I knew the territory quite well, but rarely had I come this way. In this way, as far as I knew, lay only the wide sea.
But her course never wavered in the slightest, and never did her powerful legs slow. Somehow, her unnatural feet carried her faster than most of my clan, and I had to force myself ever faster if I wanted to keep up. Perhaps she noticed this and slowed herself slightly for me, but she was certainly not merciful. Attempting to hold back a grimace, I was tempted to take to flight and glide – then I would easily be able to keep up, or pass her if I so desired. But the protocol of a guide told me that my method of travel must be the same as those I travel with, if possible. And here it was possible; yes, annoyingly so. So run I did, though my stamina proved to not be as unlimited as my charge’s (if she truly was my charge) – and I admit that I snuck in a flap or two every now and then to help myself.
Hours passed, second measured only by the beating on our feet and the swaying of the sun. The sun was directly in front of us now, blinding red rays engulfing us until it truly felt that we were running through the sunset, though both of us knew how distant the glow really was. But I grew worried now, for my companion showed no signs of stopping. Was something wrong? She had not spoken no even turned this entire time, I began to wonder if she were only running instinctively. And I began to wonder if she had any intention of stopping – well, both questions could be resolved quickly.
“Shall I find a night camp for us?” I called, my voice fighting to be heard over the air we fought again as we advanced.
For the first time, she turned and I noticed that her eyes widened slightly. She hadn’t forgotten that I was there, had she? My ears lowered sadly; what was I doing here? A Guide so unneeded by his charge was a disgrace. Either because of my words or because of the sorrowful expression in my eyes, her claws scraped against the ground – I winced as the tender-looking frills raked across the earth – and she came to a stop. I spread my wings and felt the rush of air, halting me immediately.
“I’m sorry.” I looked up, surprised. Her voice was small, nothing like the grand booming that I had heard before. “I suppose I grew too eager. Yes, please find a camp, and we will come to our destination in the morning.”
I nodded and took to the skies without a word, hovering just above the trees as I searched for a nice place to camp. Almost anywhere looked like it would be fine for one night; there were not many dangers here – but I wanted to fly for just a little longer, let my legs hang down and relax.
Soon we were both settling in to the campsite I’d chosen. Slanted roots made up our pillows, and dirt made up our beds. But I was used to this, and she didn’t seem to mind either. But even so, I couldn’t help feeling that we were resting for me alone. As I lay staring up at the stars, thoughts swirled through my mind. Maybe she had something as dear to her as flying was to me, and she had given it up for this journey – for me. It didn’t make any sense; why would a complete stranger do such a thing? But the wind wrapped around us like a blanket, and soon there was no time left for thoughts. The world faded away into the dreamless blackness of sleep.
She was awake before me, another embarrassment. However, I could see from her expression that she was yearning to continue, so I said nothing as I rose. And perhaps it was a good thing, for after one quick glance she was off again. I cursed under my breath and followed, feeling as if my legs would never forgive me for this. Was this not supposed to be some sort of gift for me? That was what her words had made it sound like. But this was certainly not the relaxation I had first imagined.
But there was one good thing about her apparent anxiety: we made better time than I was accustomed to, and as she had asserted the previous night our destination was in view, and then approaching quickly. At least, I assumed that the sea must be our destination, unless she could run on water as well. I chuckled to myself, but at this point I might have believed her if she had told me that she could.
But no, she stopped a little before the shore, and I paused a few feet behind her. My eyes looked gently upon the swaying sea – it really was beautiful. The morning sun lay across the waters from us, and it turned the water into cascading diamonds, into polished glass. Thrills ran though me – the sun was calling me! All of my being longed to glide over that crystal surface and melt into the rays of the dawn. It was my first time at the sea, and its vastness seemed like perfection – an imitation of the sky, but not any less perfect when both united. Sudden hope spread though me – perhaps my charge had brought me here for me, after all?
But a look at her face turned my joy into confusion again. Her amber eyes held the most powerful longing that I’d ever seen. I moved forwards to her side, and only when my wing brushed against her side did she seem to recall my presence. A pained smile stretched across her face instantly, her eyes clenching closed with what attempted to be a happy expression. At that moment I could easily imagine her to be crying.
“Go on over to the shore, there’s a surprise waiting for you!” Her voice was cheery, too cheery, and it somehow wrenched my heart. I could not understand, why had this sadness suddenly descended upon her? She had been in such a hurry to reach here, but now… it did not seem like she wanted to leave, more like she could not bear to go any further.
Wordlessly, I followed her instructions. She was a shadow at my back, her face shrouded behind a falsely cheerful mask, mine wiped clear of emotion. I did not know what to feel, so I attempted not to feel at all. Clumps of sand wrapped themselves around my talons in an embrace, being forced to relinquish their grip with each step I took – unwillingly. The earth tried to grab me, it seemed, to keep me there. My charge’s webbed feet carried her across the sand with much less effort.
Ah. Realization flashed into my eyes, realization that should have been there long before had I not been so caught up in the features – mental and physical – of my charge. I had called her Not-Sky in my mind, as I had just called the sea an imitation of the heavens’ splendor. As birds used their wings to fly through the sky, the fish use their fins to soar through the water. She was a creature of the water, and she had brought me to her home. But why did it hurt her so?
I had no time to ponder that question, for a moment later water lapped up and brushed the sand off of the tips of my talons. I hadn’t noticed her bend down, preoccupied as I was, but now I noticed that she was standing up again, carrying a small, sand-covered box in her hand. She pulled a string through the top of it and tied it around my neck, propping the lid slightly open. I shivered as energy suddenly surged through me.
“Come back within three days,” she whispered to me, her voice weak. “No, a day – for me, come back in a day.” I was about to reply when some new instinct seized me. A moment later, without meaning to consciously, I found myself diving into the sea. I broke the surface and slid neatly downwards, the last of the sand crumbling away and floating as the land lost its hold of me.
After a few second realization of what had occurred hit me, and I gasped. Gurahdi could fish and dove for that, but being underwater was a dangerous position for us – it wet our wings and made it more difficult for us to fly. But for some reason, I found that while I should be nervous – with that disadvantage and in a somewhat strange place – I felt perfectly calm. I discovered the reason when I attempted to beat my wings and discovered that I no longer had them.
At that point, panic raged through me. I had lost my wings! I may as well have lost my life – I probably soon would, anyway, as without my powerful wings I might be unable to make it back to the surface before I ran out of breath. Only… it seemed I didn’t need air anymore to breath. I kicked my leg up, and indeed: there were the same webbed feet, the same blue color. The box she had given to me had given me her features as well. Somehow, impossibly, an overwhelming sense of trust emerged and pushed my panic away. It wasn’t permanent, I was suddenly sure. I would go back, and she would change me back. This was nothing more than a sort of vacation. I began to practice swimming.
I don’t know how much time passed before I saw the other Gurahdi. Swimming was a new thing for me, and I found it nearly as enjoyable as flying once I got the hang of it. But then, as I mentioned, I saw another Gurahdi. Of course, he looked generally the same as I now did – I doubt you’d find any other type of Gurahdi underwater. Upon catching sight of me, he swam up immediately, and I couldn’t help but feel smugly that in the short time that I’d been swimming I already was nearly as good as him.
We exchanged a short conversation, the result of which was that he took me back to his home – the home of his Cast. It truly was like an underwater version of my own home, and everywhere were Gurahdis who shone with all the wonder of the sky though they never touched it. Looking on with awe, I found it hard to remember that I now looked the same as they did. I cautioned myself jokingly to watch out or I’d become far too arrogant for my own good. My own ‘Guide’ had waved goodbye and spiraled off through the water, so I was left to wander on my own. The first place I arrived is the hospital.
Was it good luck or bad luck that I came there? My coming to the hospital sealed my life, but it caused endless good to the Cast. For it was there that I discovered that, coming from the land, I had different knowledge about illnesses than my underwater brethren. In some cases, their epidemics were what I knew as a mere cold. And that different reference point combined with the knowledge I had gained as a Guide created something new. Somehow I found myself being called a hero of this Cast I barely knew, somehow I found myself named a Doctor. And I was happy – too happy.
Things had calmed down since my arrival, and I headed up to the shore to see the one who had been my charge again. Not only had I had a break, I had somehow managed to help – now it was time to head back to my own Cast and resume my duties. The glimmer of the sunlight pulled me ever faster towards the surface, and I rocketed upwards, as master of swimming as I had once excelled at flying.
It was my reflection that stopped me, I thought at first. But then I realized that it was not I but the one who had been my charge, who I had called Not-Sky in my ignorance. I smiled up at her, but her own expression was hollow – possessed with even more sadness then I had seen on the day we first came. The day… my eyes widened. How long had I spent down in the sea? But surely it wouldn’t matter. She raised a hand to her neck, and I imitated, feeling the box. I looked downwards. The lid of the box was now entirely open, nothing within. And then I understood.
While I had worn the box, the energy contained within had been leaking into me and allowing me this form. But now I had lingered too long, and all of it had escaped. It was no longer the box with the energy, it was me. And I could read in her eyes what that meant.
I had asked another Doctor how my charge had been able to breathe outside of the water. He had explained that she was somewhat of an anomaly. When Gurahdis of their type are born, they have the capacity to breathe inside and outside of water. If they use both, they will retain both, though this has been known to have unpleasant side effects. She was one who spent some of her time above and some below, struggling to attempt to be able to access both worlds. But time is a fragile thing, and she lingered too long in the sunlight. Her home had become closed to her.
I let out a cry as my mind filled with these thoughts, and my eyes filled with tears which were brushed away by the sea. I had spent too much time in my freedom and never thought that such a life would have a price. She was as good as my reflection, both of us locked out of the world we had once needed. I understood the pain she had held in her eyes, I understood even why she had brought me here. I understood that she hadn’t meant this.
Her hand broke the surface of the water and came towards my face. I stared bleakly up towards the sun and sank towards, as she reached for everything she couldn’t have. A few days had become forever. The Cast greeted me back eagerly, pleased that I could stay and be their Doctor. I agreed, of course, shrouding my emptiness with false cheer, but what I really sought was the cure for me.
I sought the cure for the ocean.
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