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Breaking of the Storms
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Breaking of the Storms |
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Dusk Treader
Moderator
Senior Member
since 1999-06-18
Posts 1187St. Paul, MN 
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A thousand feet and more a man stands above the ebony waters of the sea. The wind wails and moans, screaming around him and billowing his deep black robes in a mockery of flight. He stands with bowed head, though dignity and pride emanates from his frail frame and face careworn from age. Rain falls about his form, but not a drop of liquid touches the man, The skies overhead were a vast field of roiling clouds, black as pitch and swirling, converging and diverging at a furious rate. The seas below were a mirror reflection of those skies. The wind whips the waves into a fury, huge breakers crash into the shore in an echoing roar. Lightning split the sky with it’s wicked jagged beam of light and is followed by a thunderclap that rolls over the land like an avalanche. The earth shakes and the storm appears to be tearing the earth to shreds. Yet alone stands the man, forever unbending, heeding not the storm, nor the world, his entire being turns inwards as he stands on the brink. With mind-bending speed he lifts his hand claw-like and upon the air he traces a symbol of power, and as his finger moves the air around it turns first white and then glows a bright green. The man’s robes fall silent about him as the storm began to moan in anguish and despair that it can no longer assail the man. His hand slowly drops to his side; the rigidity of it slowly fading as his form becomes languid. In the corner of his eye forms a single tear, a tear of singular beauty. A tear of sorrow that hung on his cheek mingling with the sweat of his brow and the blood of his life. The scarlet drop falls silently earthwards and is lost amid the millions of drops of the tears of the sky. His lips move to form the shape of a word they have formed many a time before, but no sound comes forth. An astounding change steals over the man in the space of but a few heartbeats, as he raises his head high and looks the storm right in the eye. His spine became straight and he towers over the land, monolithic. His eyes burn with the Secret Fire and the storm shrinks from the purpose and courage in that gaze. A deep breath he draws in through his lips, every muscle in his body relaxes and his eyes slowly fall shut. A low hum begins to form deep within, a scarcely perceivable rumbling in his throat, and soon it becomes a single tone of sound pure and wordless. The sound began to elevate in volume and pitch, seeming to saturate the air. From a wordless sound it elevates to a human cry, and furthermore to a shriek. It then elevates to a sound so horrific that it can be associated with no mortal word but that of a banshee as it cleaves the chaos of the storm. The clouds draw back and sapphire sky is revealed beneath. As the sky appears and the shriek fades into oblivion the man falls to the ground in exhaustion, but around him a faint aura of muted red glows softly. And the crumpled mass of man sinks lower and lower to the ground. He begins to lose the shape of a man and as the last of his mortal raiment falls as ash to the earth a single hollow voice, drenched in longing is heard: “Elizabeth…. I come….” And from the ashes burst a being of naked flame, unfettered by mortal flesh and human laws it sped away into the vaults of heaven. < !signature--> In flames I shall not be consumed, but reborn. -- Abrahm Simons [This message has been edited by Dusk Treader (edited 01-20-2000).] |
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| © Copyright 2000 Abrahm Simons - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Alwye
Moderator
Member Elite
since 1999-06-16
Posts 3850In the space between moments |
Exellent, my friend! Could this Elizabeth be a certain Kelly Elizabeth in disguise perhaps?  Only one comment for ya. It'd probably be a good idea to keep your tense the same. You switch from past to present a few times. Other than that, a wonderful, dark, and stirring read, just like always!  *Krista Knutson* ~*Like a lion, without fear of the howling pack, Like a gust of wind, ne'er trapped in a snare, Like a lotus blossom, ne'er sprinkled by water, Let me, like a unicorn, in solitude roam.*~ Hymn Of Buddha |
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Dusk Treader
Moderator
Senior Member
since 1999-06-18
Posts 1187St. Paul, MN |
Thanks for replying and for relling me about my verb tense mistakes  (I've fixed them now, I hope...) Thank you so much for everything And shhh! You're not supposed to tell my cleverly contrived secrets! < !signature-->In flames I shall not be consumed, but reborn. -- Abrahm Simons [This message has been edited by Dusk Treader (edited 01-20-2000).] |
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Nagemx Junior Member
since 2000-01-20
Posts 14 |
wow. I don't have much to say, but I wanted to let you know that I appreciate a good piece. Keep it up! Love the detail, it plays the scene wonderfully in my head. Never regret |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
Vundebah! Another well wrought tale sir! |
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Ruby dagger Member
since 1999-08-01
Posts 76Wyoming, MN, U.S.A |
Another wonderful story. I love how that you imagery is so well that I fell like I'm there. I love your work. Luv ya Kelly Love breaths when you're out of breath, Love sits by the bedside when you're near to death, and Love still feels it when the feelings gone, Love lives on and on. Love is the right place. -Bryan White |
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Dusk Treader
Moderator
Senior Member
since 1999-06-18
Posts 1187St. Paul, MN |
Thank you all for replying! Christopher and Nagemx - Thank you for your kindness, it's much appreciated Kelly - Thanks sweetie, you're much too kind to me Love you.In flames I shall not be consumed, but reborn. -- Abrahm Simons |
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Skyfyre Senior Member
since 1999-08-15
Posts 1906Sitting in Michael's Lap |
Brava! You caught me in the spell -- wunnerful work! Excellent description of the scene, especially -- though it might be a little rich in the adjective department (a crime I have been guilty of more than once myself, sigh). Not at all painful to read, though -- LOL -- if that helps at all? Shutting up now ... --Kess< !signature--> Full fathom five thy father lies, Of his bones are coral made, Those are pearls that were his eyes; Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange... --William Shakespeare, from The Tempest [This message has been edited by Skyfyre (edited 01-22-2000).] |
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Dusk Treader
Moderator
Senior Member
since 1999-06-18
Posts 1187St. Paul, MN |
Thanks for replying, Kess! No need to "shut up," I want to hear what you have to say, a good shove in the right direction is always nice. Thanks for the opinions, I don't know if I'll ever be able to fix my rich adjectives, though... In flames I shall not be consumed, but reborn. -- Abrahm Simons |
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One Who Understands Member
since 2000-01-20
Posts 251Cedar Rapids, Iowa |
Rich adjectives are the simbol of originality in this mind boggling piece. The picture has been well painted |
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