“The day may dawn, but the sun may never raise again… I am uncertain of the fate of all that is or was….”
“You act as though I plan to destroy everything.” *says a man covered in a dust stained cloak.
The old man turns to face the hooded figure, his chains rattle slightly by his movements.
The hooded stranger steps back a bit from the bars of the cage. The dim candlelight outlines the cell of old mans prison, the stench of age runs ripe through the air unchanging either ones position.
The old man’s clothing had not been changed, or cleaned in so long its just loose straps. His beard litters his body covering more of his body then his rags. His hair is just as long making his eyes hard to see. Scrolls line his room as well as carvings of scripture coat every inch of the walls, and his bare skin. Scars line his body where he has tore into it with his finger nails detailing words of his own past.
Stranger,” seems there is no more damage I could have caused you here that you have not already done.”
Old Man,”I would say your right but we both know better. I would ask you to release me but I know you wont…as it is not your place. Nor will I answer the question you came here to ask for it is not my, nor anyone’s place to answer. You should leave fate alone and not tamper with what you could never understand.”
Stranger,” Fate, Faith, Destiny, and power are only words created by people to describe what they do not know. They only hold meaning to those who choose to believe they do.”
Old Man,” Because you see in only this light will you never be able to finish what you wish to accomplish.”
Stranger,” Anyone ever tell you, your a real downer?
Old Man, ” Wisdom often kills humor, as knowledge destroys fantasy.”
The stranger smiles and nods, and thus fades into the shadows as the old man mutters something under his breath. Moments pass as the old man continues to mutter, a breeze of air brushes past him in a windowless and door less chamber.
Old Man,” Even if I know everything that will or will not be, I never could figure out how you could find me.”
The Wind snickers” Ever consider maybe there are things you should never know…”
Old Man,” It is my curse, I have to know everything as yours is you could never have a body.”
The Wind howls slightly” No need to get snippy…now why have you requested my presence?”
Old Man,” Great change is going to happen from which I am sure our conversations will end, In the not two distant future the living will create beings who the gods will have to pay close attention to…You are the only one that still knows I live, I ask you to speak to them and let them know…”
The Wind,” You know that I am forbidden by oath to talk to the Gods, I am The Wind, the Keeper of Secrets, and that mortals can not hear my voice.”
Old Man,” It was you that said the wind can not be tamed…so why did you cage yourself so”
The Wind,” You already know tale, no need to have a petty battle of wits…you wonder why the Creator despised you the most…its cause you never could learned to bite your tongue.”
Old Man,” hmph…”
The Wind,” If there is nothing else I shall roam to somewhere with a view, and should I pass someone along the way that can heed your message, I’ll pass on your message.
Old Man,” by that time it will be too late. ”
The Wind,” the worries of mortals and these so called new Gods make no difference to me in the slightest,”
Old Man,” Don’t pretend you don’t care about them….I know how you love to tickle a child’s face, and you love to carry the scent of love through the air. You don’t always have to bring a chill you know.”
The Wind,”….why do you want to help the new God’s anyway…they are part of the reason your stuck here…”
Old Man,” It matters not the things we can not change, but to stand by and always do nothing will mean you existed for nothing…the time has come for all to realize our fates are intertwined, and the ignorance of thinking we are better than one another needs to end or what lonely lives everyone will live.”
The Wind,” why now do you make your stand now after all this time.”
Old Man,” the last time I tried I ended up here, and I have grown tired of only knowing brief happiness, and endless despair…Either way if it all ends I will learn nothing new, and if it doesn’t change for the better, I fear I can not handle the worse.”
The Wind,”Always so depressing, makes it hard for anyone to want to listen. Anyway I am off remain here and keep making your scrolls,”
Old Man,” I have ran out of ink first, then paper, then wall then skin…now I must keep it all up here….” He says this as she fades and the stillness of his room returns. Holding his head he begins to weep tears no one will see, no one will hear…
The Wind now free of the Book Keeper’s cage, has begun to wonder aimlessly as she debates talking to Zeus and the other Gods of the present or keeping her secrets. She tended to keep tabs on what was going on across the realms of mortals and Gods, watching the Gods play their games and the mortals be nothing more then ponds. Unrest was always certain in the hearts of men, whom will could be so easily altered by suggestion. As many of the other races Creator made; it was man that he cursed the most. As they had no limits to their emotions, passions, and desire. Creator had composed the race of men to have many of the same faults of Gods, as well as virtues and inner morals. She continued to ponder over the races she had grown to love, and despise. Many races had spawned from interbreeding of original chosen. Elves, Man, Dwarfs were just a few, the most common, though there are countless others.
Suddenly she slows seeing a presence she had not seen in ages. A rare deal indeed when the Mother of death shows her face on any plans normally the work is left up to her sons. The wind breezes past the Mother of Death’s golden hair.
The Wind,” What has stirred you from your slumber…?”
Mother of Death responds,” Everyone needs to stretch now and again, but you wouldn’t know anything about that.” The mother of death stands over a unicorn who was struck by an arrow that the wind did not recognize the brand of its maker. The Mother of death’s pure white cloak brushes in the wind as her light blue eyes peer down at the arrow. Reaching out with hand free of flesh she goes to end the animals suffering, but the animal dies before she can do so. Startled, as nothing can die without her families touch. There is no sign of any of her children she now reaches for the arrow. plucking it out off the unicorns chest.
The wind remains silent as this is unheard of, and slightly disturbing. They both look down at the arrow in mystery, shock, and awe. The Arrow was made of bone which was twisted into a spiral going down the shaft. No feathers laid at the tail, nor stone at the head, three razor sharp bones stick out of the tail to give it direction as, the arrow head its self was like a four pronged hook.
The arrow begins to disintegrate in her hand starting at the tip it releases into a dark cloud that fades into the air the mother of death drops the arrow, and once it hits the grass blades it shatters.
The Wind,” care to explain?”
The Mother of Death,” wish I could, this animal died without a guide. My sons spoke tails of this occurring from time to time on this island. I believed them telling me lies to rouse me, but this truth is far more sinister.”