10-29-2019, 06:39 PM
He blinks up at the see-through lady, disappointment flooding him when he reads the answer on her face. He's come so far, only to be turned away at the end. Or perhaps not. The shimmering lady speaks, and the colt draws a thread of hope from her words. He's lost his mother, does the lady mean that she knows how to find her?
The others look hopefully and sad too, all horses much older than himself. The colt is a drop of paint in the bucket, a child's voice in the choir of loss that was harmonizing now. These grown ups, they had loved ones too. Ones they hadn't seen in years and years. His loss was brand new, a cut that hadn't had a chance to scab over yet, let alone fade into a memory.
The fissure in the air simmered and vibrated, an invitation to him and the others. One by one they stepped through, and he knew it would be his turn soon. A gulp pushed down his throat as he realized what it meant. He was out of options. Couldn't go back, even if he knew which way to go. There was no one waiting for the little lightning boy, no home to return to. It was forward or nothing at all. The broad blue feather was picked up once more, a token of courage and love.
Shuddering with every step, he folded his wings tight against his thin body, holding his breath as the break in the air opened and shut around him.
The first thing he felt was wind. Endless, constant wind that tore feathers from his shoulders and the tears from his eyes. He should turn back, try to find someone else to help. He got as far as turning around, only to see the way back was no more. A one way door that had only been waiting for the choice to be made. It couldn't be taken back now.
It was a grey, empty space he stood in. The only reason he knew he was still there was because he could look down and see his own legs, his own body. His mother's feather was a clutched talisman now. More than a token of memory, it was his only link to both worlds. He couldn't see any of the horses who had stood on the beach with him, nor the lady who had sent them here in the first place. Just the bland grey, and they color he himself brought.
His eyes hurt from the wind. They hurt from crying, and they hurt from looking at all the nothing surrounding him. There were no landmarks, no variations of any kind. So he figured it didn't matter which direction he started walking. Even the wind seemed to defy logic, always coming from the direction he moved in. He wasn't supposed to be here, that much was clear.
It felt hopeless. He could walk for years and never find what he was looking for. He could go mad and no one would ever know. The feather shifted in his mouth, lips going numb from the constant wind and the time they had spent clutched tight. He rolled it between his teeth, knowing if he lost this feather he really was done for.
Time passed. How much or little he couldn't say, only that he was exhausted. How much could it hurt, to curl up on the featureless ground and sleep until his bones stopped aching? It was a lucrative thought, one that held the promise of better things when he awoke. Maybe this whole day had been an awful dream, and falling asleep would mean waking up.
A shove knocked into his shoulder. The whispy glimpse of a galloping horse, wind curling through its mane and then gone. A vision or a hallucination, he wasn't sure. He walked a few more paces, knowing he may as well be going in circles for all the progress he was making. And oh to sleep... Another shove, knocking into his rump and almost throwing him to the ground. Two whisps, a shade darker than the air itself and rushing with the wind.
Wait! He wanted to shout, to make them stop and listen. But that would mean dropping the feather, the one thing he couldn't do. And it quickly didn't matter as they vanished like their fellow only steps after they'd appeared.
He wanted to sob. Instead, he fell to his knees, not the least surprised when the wind revealed a stampede off souls flowing around him. Every shade of grey blended and merged in the crowd, thousands of silent hooves churning at his eye level. It was overwhelming after the endless nothing. It was too much.
It was over.
She stood over him as if she'd never been gone. As beautiful as she'd ever been, certainly in better condition than the lost boy had ever known her, Sabra looked upon her youngest child with silver tears in her eyes. The mare who had been so vibrant in life was now a wash of silver and grey. A black and white photo of something no longer tangible.
"Hello, little lightning bird. How did you find me?"
Her voice was soft and sweet, even if it sounded like it was coming from far off. It was his mother, with the cares of life shorn from her as completely as shedding winter's coat. There was no manic gleam in her eyes, no irritable twitching, no stiffly held wings. Just his mother, as she'd always meant to be. Whole, and happy.
The scrap of life he held in his jaws felt impossibly heavy after his long guard of it, and Sabra looked as though she recognized this. "It's alright. Give it to me, I'll keep it safe." She promised. His teeth ached as he released the plume to her, mouth tight from the burden he'd carried here. The petite mare tucked the feather, even brighter in this world of grey, into the soft vanguard of its fellows. It retained its brilliant blue light, a dot of life in the dead mare's grey.
When he could move his mouth without pain once more, the winged boy approached his mother cautiously. In life, Sabra had been unpredictable, as likely to bite as she was to kiss. How much of that had been her mind turning against itself? She watched him with deep sadness plain in her expression. It had been difficult for all of her children. Each of them had borne the weight of her instability, taking on far more of her troubles than any child ought to. This flickering little one was only the latest. The last.
When his little face pressed into her shoulder she knew, at least with this one, she hadn't broken the bond between them. Hadn't had the chance to drive him away as thoroughly as she had the others. He had found her despite impossible odds, and clung to her now as though she'd never left. Had never strayed into waters more dangerous than they'd appeared.
"The lady let us in. To find the lost ones. We're going to help them be less sad." He explained as well as he could, still uncertain his role in this trial. But he'd found her, and they had each other for the moment. Sabra nodded, feeling that there was more to this than the bright boy was saying. But he was only a little thing. And it seemed their world was changing yet again. She was learning to watch from a distance.
The lightning child curled into his mother's embrace, tucked beneath the curve of her wing as he'd often wanted to do. She held him, thankful that they'd been granted this chance. She only hoped the cost wouldn't be too high for her baby.
"I missed you, mother." He sighed, real happiness settling into his childish mind for the first time.
"I missed you too. Sleep now. I have someone I want you to meet later, and then we can go and sort things out. Together."
Her blushed lips dropped to his downy forehead to place a kiss, her heart twisting itself to pieces as she did. She would treasure this moment always, but it couldn't last. Life still pulsed in his little heart, and she wouldn't see it extinguished before his time.
The others look hopefully and sad too, all horses much older than himself. The colt is a drop of paint in the bucket, a child's voice in the choir of loss that was harmonizing now. These grown ups, they had loved ones too. Ones they hadn't seen in years and years. His loss was brand new, a cut that hadn't had a chance to scab over yet, let alone fade into a memory.
The fissure in the air simmered and vibrated, an invitation to him and the others. One by one they stepped through, and he knew it would be his turn soon. A gulp pushed down his throat as he realized what it meant. He was out of options. Couldn't go back, even if he knew which way to go. There was no one waiting for the little lightning boy, no home to return to. It was forward or nothing at all. The broad blue feather was picked up once more, a token of courage and love.
Shuddering with every step, he folded his wings tight against his thin body, holding his breath as the break in the air opened and shut around him.
The first thing he felt was wind. Endless, constant wind that tore feathers from his shoulders and the tears from his eyes. He should turn back, try to find someone else to help. He got as far as turning around, only to see the way back was no more. A one way door that had only been waiting for the choice to be made. It couldn't be taken back now.
It was a grey, empty space he stood in. The only reason he knew he was still there was because he could look down and see his own legs, his own body. His mother's feather was a clutched talisman now. More than a token of memory, it was his only link to both worlds. He couldn't see any of the horses who had stood on the beach with him, nor the lady who had sent them here in the first place. Just the bland grey, and they color he himself brought.
His eyes hurt from the wind. They hurt from crying, and they hurt from looking at all the nothing surrounding him. There were no landmarks, no variations of any kind. So he figured it didn't matter which direction he started walking. Even the wind seemed to defy logic, always coming from the direction he moved in. He wasn't supposed to be here, that much was clear.
It felt hopeless. He could walk for years and never find what he was looking for. He could go mad and no one would ever know. The feather shifted in his mouth, lips going numb from the constant wind and the time they had spent clutched tight. He rolled it between his teeth, knowing if he lost this feather he really was done for.
Time passed. How much or little he couldn't say, only that he was exhausted. How much could it hurt, to curl up on the featureless ground and sleep until his bones stopped aching? It was a lucrative thought, one that held the promise of better things when he awoke. Maybe this whole day had been an awful dream, and falling asleep would mean waking up.
A shove knocked into his shoulder. The whispy glimpse of a galloping horse, wind curling through its mane and then gone. A vision or a hallucination, he wasn't sure. He walked a few more paces, knowing he may as well be going in circles for all the progress he was making. And oh to sleep... Another shove, knocking into his rump and almost throwing him to the ground. Two whisps, a shade darker than the air itself and rushing with the wind.
Wait! He wanted to shout, to make them stop and listen. But that would mean dropping the feather, the one thing he couldn't do. And it quickly didn't matter as they vanished like their fellow only steps after they'd appeared.
He wanted to sob. Instead, he fell to his knees, not the least surprised when the wind revealed a stampede off souls flowing around him. Every shade of grey blended and merged in the crowd, thousands of silent hooves churning at his eye level. It was overwhelming after the endless nothing. It was too much.
It was over.
She stood over him as if she'd never been gone. As beautiful as she'd ever been, certainly in better condition than the lost boy had ever known her, Sabra looked upon her youngest child with silver tears in her eyes. The mare who had been so vibrant in life was now a wash of silver and grey. A black and white photo of something no longer tangible.
"Hello, little lightning bird. How did you find me?"
Her voice was soft and sweet, even if it sounded like it was coming from far off. It was his mother, with the cares of life shorn from her as completely as shedding winter's coat. There was no manic gleam in her eyes, no irritable twitching, no stiffly held wings. Just his mother, as she'd always meant to be. Whole, and happy.
The scrap of life he held in his jaws felt impossibly heavy after his long guard of it, and Sabra looked as though she recognized this. "It's alright. Give it to me, I'll keep it safe." She promised. His teeth ached as he released the plume to her, mouth tight from the burden he'd carried here. The petite mare tucked the feather, even brighter in this world of grey, into the soft vanguard of its fellows. It retained its brilliant blue light, a dot of life in the dead mare's grey.
When he could move his mouth without pain once more, the winged boy approached his mother cautiously. In life, Sabra had been unpredictable, as likely to bite as she was to kiss. How much of that had been her mind turning against itself? She watched him with deep sadness plain in her expression. It had been difficult for all of her children. Each of them had borne the weight of her instability, taking on far more of her troubles than any child ought to. This flickering little one was only the latest. The last.
When his little face pressed into her shoulder she knew, at least with this one, she hadn't broken the bond between them. Hadn't had the chance to drive him away as thoroughly as she had the others. He had found her despite impossible odds, and clung to her now as though she'd never left. Had never strayed into waters more dangerous than they'd appeared.
"The lady let us in. To find the lost ones. We're going to help them be less sad." He explained as well as he could, still uncertain his role in this trial. But he'd found her, and they had each other for the moment. Sabra nodded, feeling that there was more to this than the bright boy was saying. But he was only a little thing. And it seemed their world was changing yet again. She was learning to watch from a distance.
The lightning child curled into his mother's embrace, tucked beneath the curve of her wing as he'd often wanted to do. She held him, thankful that they'd been granted this chance. She only hoped the cost wouldn't be too high for her baby.
"I missed you, mother." He sighed, real happiness settling into his childish mind for the first time.
"I missed you too. Sleep now. I have someone I want you to meet later, and then we can go and sort things out. Together."
Her blushed lips dropped to his downy forehead to place a kiss, her heart twisting itself to pieces as she did. She would treasure this moment always, but it couldn't last. Life still pulsed in his little heart, and she wouldn't see it extinguished before his time.