12-22-2016, 12:01 PM
Time stands still.
Time has no meaning.
Not for those who live forever. Those who taste the sands of Time, close their eyes, and let the waves of death plummet over them softly leave the world with a beautiful sense of peace. Their time is done. Life has had their way with them and they have grown, lived, and returned to the dust.
Not all of them are that lucky.
Iasan stands like an inkstain against the white backdrop. It has seemingly come from nowhere—and yet, he knows in his head he has seen this before. Even his mother’s voice inside his head has quieted; this is rare. And new. Something has happened in the world of Beqanna that has not happened in an age. Not since time stopped for an old man who’s dying wish was to save his son; giving him the strength of magic to stand on his own four feet and conquer the world as he sees fit. Jason had thought his time was done too. He closed his eyes, felt the ocean, and lifted his spirit to the heavens.
His breathing stopped. His heart beat silenced.
And then it started again. And the quiet side of his mind fell asleep inside the head of a sooty little boy with a snow-drop blanket. His heartbeat quickened at the spectacle of magic before him. His nostrils flared—something was definitely at work here. His ears flopped around his head as his fuzzy mane and tail kept up with the Wind. The scents in the air—they become more ominous. Colder. When the breeze suddenly shifts, Iasan lifts his head toward the North West, his head tilting curiously. Then all of a sudden, his heartbeat quickens yet again—
And the breeze stops. All is quiet.
Eerily quiet.
Iasan blinks, looking down at the ground. He takes a step and notices that the grasses do not move with him. Their blades fracture and split—falling to the ground. He moves through the moors, cracking the shoots in his wake, making a very obvious path—in case he feels the need to make a quick escape. He munches the last bit of the food he had been eating, and swallows. Looking up, he blinks, stepping into the sunlight.
Not even the birds have escaped whatever villainy has taken place. Their paths of flight have been halted. Wherever they were going—whatever they were doing—would have to wait until the touch of magic had left.
Iasan felt the magic tingling across his body. He’s seen this before. He knows this entity. He’s nervous, but he is not scared. Following the hill upward, he sees the progression of time. Dead leaves, fallen to the ground. The sun hides behind the clouds and a shadow falls across the expanse once more, drowning the whole world in a cooler feeling than Iasan had had before. Autum has fallen victim to Winter, and though the child knows that the day has not changed—indeed it has frozen—he feels the pull of age as his muscles are more defined, and he feels himself growing larger and taller—as if by walking this path towards the dead of winter, he has aged right along as he normally would.
Gone is the fuzz, and in its place is a young man with Amber eyes looking upon a broad-mouthed cave. The rocks the rise up before him are covered in snow and ice and with a concentrated flick of his ears, he knows that there is a sound coming from the heart of the cavern. He steps, pushing back his lips to reveal pink gums and yellow teeth; his nostrils take a deep inhale to gauge the danger.
In his head, he knows he has seen this before. Though he does not know why. Memories and shadows dance before Iasan’s eyes. Memories of a lifetime before his. And yet he still hears the sound above the din of his thoughts. He turns back towards the lower parts of the meadow, where Autumn still rules. Flicking his tail, he turns back to the darkness, seeking the truth of why these memories haunt him. He wants answers. He wants the traits to bless his blood with the discernment of his power. Why was he like this? Why does he feel drawn to the dark? And lastly—
Who calls from the belly of this beast?
Choosing the first tunnel that lay on his left, he takes another step, and the reincarnation of Jason disappears into the dark.
Iasan