Post by Xenon on Mar 8, 2005 21:32:23 GMT -5
Oooh, so I wrote a story in my English class. >_> Want other people to read it, so, here it is. It's set in a world of my own creation, and all characters are mine kthx.
It was the middle of a frigid autumn. But then, it always was in that place, that place where yellow-red leaves tumbled from near-skeletal trees every month. The wind blew from the north and carried with it a threat of winter to come, but it was an empty threat - even through the cold, and the long nights, the sun still shone brightly through the blackened tangle of trees, fighting to warm the earth.
And the ruler of that place, the god who was called Autumn for all he represented, called these lands his home. In a tower built high into the black cliffs that separated Summer’s lands from his own, Autumn sat and planned. His vivid crimson eyes darted across ancient manuscripts from the dawn of time, notes he had taken millennia ago. That was when he and the other three Gods of Season had worked with the Elemental Goddesses to create all life. He knew that somewhere in those scripts, the secret to beauty must be hidden.
For many long nights he worked, hunched over a desk facing a window. From that window he could see all of his eternal fall, from the dusty plains, to the flaming forests. To the casual observer, there was no need for him to seek out beauty, for it already surrounded him. But Autumn was a man obsessed, and he continued his search. He worked with flashes of color and ancient runes, painting mystic symbols into the very air until they swirled around his head to become creatures of the night - but they were not dream-like by any means. They all had twisted faces and yellowed fangs, and from their elegant paws grew twisted, dagger-like claws. When his every effort resulted in these demonic creatures, the god went into hiding and banished his failed experiments to the far reaches of his domain.
In the lands to the north, Winter heard of Autumn’s sorrows from his many spies, and his cunning mind went to work.
Autumn brushed his orange hair out of his face, slowly weaving the silky strands into a shoulder-length braid. There were heavy purple bags under his eyes from many nights where study and research came before rest, and very often rest didn’t come at all. In truth, it worried the god, as he knew that he was pushing the body he had created to house his spirit to its very limits. It required time to make a new form, should the old wear out, and time was not something the god liked to waste. He let out a deep sigh, and shut the book that sat on the table before him. A cloud of dust filled the room, and Autumn waved it away lazily, rubbing his nose with his free hand. The results of his last attempt at creating beauty crouched before him, yellow eyes glowing slightly in the haze of the room. It hissed loudly at him and bore its long fangs, and he hissed back. The creature exploded in a flash of crimson, leaving Autumn alone once more.
He leaned back, growling with anger, and rested his legs on the desk, crumpling the papers that sat there. “I created the world, once.” He whispered to no one in particular, eyes closed. “So why, now, does beauty escape me..?”
“Because you ignore that which surrounds you.”
Autumn leapt from his seat, narrowing his eyes. A tall man stood in the corner, black hair hanging over his eyes, snowflakes falling around him. “Winter,” Autumn whispered, words coming out in a breathy gasp. The tall, pale man smiled widely.
“Autumn, it’s good to see you again,” he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide in a mock of an affectionate greeting. His dark blue eyes shone with a deadly malice, and Autumn took a few steps back, clearly intimidated. “A little bird told me of your troubles, and I’ve come to offer my advice. Look to the far corners of your domain, to the highest cliffs. There grows a flower there, a lily... It is called the Lion’s Pride, and it grows at the foot of a Celestial who disobeyed our orders and was turned to stone. Take it. Transmute it into the beauty that you seek.”
The orange-haired man stared at Winter, able only to watch as the lanky god vanished in a cold flash, leaving icicles on the ceiling above where he had stood and snowflakes drifting through the air.
“The Lion’s Pride.” he murmured to himself, over and over again, until it began to sound like a lullaby.
Autumn traveled by sky, on a pair of wings like those of eagles. He flew for days, never landing, and abandoned his love for food and sleep, which the gods enjoyed but did not require. Eventually, he reached the place where his territory and Winter’s met. The land rose up in jagged spikes that hid their faces high in the clouds, rising to impossible heights. Autumn flared his wings and descended slowly, dropping to his feet once he was close enough. He snapped his fingers and the wings vanished, leaving him to wander on foot through the narrow paths leading along the mountains.
He climbed for days, taking note of the various structures hidden within the rock so that he might remember them to return in the future. He did not tire, but he felt the form his spirit inhabited begin to grow weak and knew that he would need to build a new body upon returning, as he had pushed this one to its limit.
Finally, he found it. There was a place where it looked as though the mountains had been split into two parts by a giant’s blade, and a narrow precipice jutted out over the edge. Autumn peered over the ledge, and far below, he spied a river. This river he knew to be the Iraki Suteneth, the border between the god’s domains. It was swollen with melt-off from the mountain’s snowy peaks, and continued to carve at the stone that surrounded it. Carefully, Autumn moved onto the narrow path, placing a hand on the mountain’s face to steady himself, and began to walk. Every once in a while, tiny bits of stone broke off and tumbled down, causing him to pause. He knew it would be easier to fly to the location of the lily, but the winds that occasionally whipped between the cliffs kept him grounded.
The path broadened, becoming a long platform that reached over the edge. Perching there, as if surveying the river, was a gigantic stone lion with ruby eyes. The god stood still for a moment, thinking hard. This was the Celestial Winter had told him of, so where was the flower..?
The wind picked up, and in that second he caught a glimpse of yellow-orange by the lion’s paws. He moved to it, a wry grin appearing on his face as he came to stand before the stone titan. Growing directly between the huge paws was a single flower. Its leaves were spread wide as if hugging the beast that loomed over it, and the god could not deny that it reminded him of a child. He slowly encircled it with his slender fingers, pulling the entire plant - roots and all - from the earth.
“Thank you,” he whispered to the lion, then spread his wings and flew as only the gods knew how.
The flower sat in a glass of water on his desk, totally oblivious to the chaos and disorder that surrounded it on all sides. Autumn worked at a frenzied pace, surrounding both vase and flower in the glowing runes from before. As he wrote them, they slid into his target until it shone with a brilliant, ethereal light. When he finally stopped his writing, he bit his lip hard and swore that Winter would die if he proved false. A flash of light filled the room, and Autumn cursed loudly as a momentary blindness took him.
Slowly, the glowing dots receded from his vision. The room was completely still, and where the flower had once stood, there crouched a naked girl. Her skin was pale yellow with fading to red at her fingers, toes, and ears, then dusted with black spots like freckles. Her hair was long and green, hanging in wild tangles like vines. She slowly raised her eyes to Autumn, who continued to stare at her openly.
“Hello,” she said in a voice which was little more than a whisper, and Autumn ran forward to embrace her.
“My beautiful flower,” he crooned, overcome with joy. “My milan. That will be your name.. Milan.”
For the following weeks, Autumn studied every aspect of what he considered his greatest creation, writing down and illustrating her behaviors. She was fascinated by plants, and terrified of open flame - and had the curious ability to heal any wound. This was what mystified Autumn the most, as he brought a rabbit that had been impaled to her, and in seconds it was hopping about as if nothing had happened.
He sent word to Winter of his discoveries, and it wasn’t long until the pale man came to see Milan with his own eyes.
“Curious,” he murmured as Autumn had the girl demonstrate her ability on a three-legged dog. “Very curious..” his icy eyes glittered, and he took a mental note of the way that Autumn rained praise upon the girl and rarely looked away from her.
His plan was unfolding. This was what he wanted, but was unable to find, for every time he had traveled to the stone lion, it had awoken, roaring loudly and blocking off the flower. He expected that the Celestial lion would be able to sense his motives, but needed proof. Winter watched his crimson-haired cohort, his guinea pig in this experiment. Autumn, who had no idea of the flower’s potential, had pure intentions and so the lion allowed him to pick the precious blossom. He had even taken Winter’s ambitions a step forward and turning the flower into a person, and he had proved Winter‘s thoughts. This healing ability, this talent, would give him exactly what he needed to widen his range of influence. And Autumn, the love-struck fool, wouldn’t know what had happened until it was much too late. He moved slowly behind the other, eyes still locked on the child, then slammed his fist into the small of Autumn’s back.
There was a sharp crack, and Autumn’s world faded to black as his physical form gave a deep shudder and perished.
(con't in next post)
It was the middle of a frigid autumn. But then, it always was in that place, that place where yellow-red leaves tumbled from near-skeletal trees every month. The wind blew from the north and carried with it a threat of winter to come, but it was an empty threat - even through the cold, and the long nights, the sun still shone brightly through the blackened tangle of trees, fighting to warm the earth.
And the ruler of that place, the god who was called Autumn for all he represented, called these lands his home. In a tower built high into the black cliffs that separated Summer’s lands from his own, Autumn sat and planned. His vivid crimson eyes darted across ancient manuscripts from the dawn of time, notes he had taken millennia ago. That was when he and the other three Gods of Season had worked with the Elemental Goddesses to create all life. He knew that somewhere in those scripts, the secret to beauty must be hidden.
For many long nights he worked, hunched over a desk facing a window. From that window he could see all of his eternal fall, from the dusty plains, to the flaming forests. To the casual observer, there was no need for him to seek out beauty, for it already surrounded him. But Autumn was a man obsessed, and he continued his search. He worked with flashes of color and ancient runes, painting mystic symbols into the very air until they swirled around his head to become creatures of the night - but they were not dream-like by any means. They all had twisted faces and yellowed fangs, and from their elegant paws grew twisted, dagger-like claws. When his every effort resulted in these demonic creatures, the god went into hiding and banished his failed experiments to the far reaches of his domain.
In the lands to the north, Winter heard of Autumn’s sorrows from his many spies, and his cunning mind went to work.
Autumn brushed his orange hair out of his face, slowly weaving the silky strands into a shoulder-length braid. There were heavy purple bags under his eyes from many nights where study and research came before rest, and very often rest didn’t come at all. In truth, it worried the god, as he knew that he was pushing the body he had created to house his spirit to its very limits. It required time to make a new form, should the old wear out, and time was not something the god liked to waste. He let out a deep sigh, and shut the book that sat on the table before him. A cloud of dust filled the room, and Autumn waved it away lazily, rubbing his nose with his free hand. The results of his last attempt at creating beauty crouched before him, yellow eyes glowing slightly in the haze of the room. It hissed loudly at him and bore its long fangs, and he hissed back. The creature exploded in a flash of crimson, leaving Autumn alone once more.
He leaned back, growling with anger, and rested his legs on the desk, crumpling the papers that sat there. “I created the world, once.” He whispered to no one in particular, eyes closed. “So why, now, does beauty escape me..?”
“Because you ignore that which surrounds you.”
Autumn leapt from his seat, narrowing his eyes. A tall man stood in the corner, black hair hanging over his eyes, snowflakes falling around him. “Winter,” Autumn whispered, words coming out in a breathy gasp. The tall, pale man smiled widely.
“Autumn, it’s good to see you again,” he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide in a mock of an affectionate greeting. His dark blue eyes shone with a deadly malice, and Autumn took a few steps back, clearly intimidated. “A little bird told me of your troubles, and I’ve come to offer my advice. Look to the far corners of your domain, to the highest cliffs. There grows a flower there, a lily... It is called the Lion’s Pride, and it grows at the foot of a Celestial who disobeyed our orders and was turned to stone. Take it. Transmute it into the beauty that you seek.”
The orange-haired man stared at Winter, able only to watch as the lanky god vanished in a cold flash, leaving icicles on the ceiling above where he had stood and snowflakes drifting through the air.
“The Lion’s Pride.” he murmured to himself, over and over again, until it began to sound like a lullaby.
Autumn traveled by sky, on a pair of wings like those of eagles. He flew for days, never landing, and abandoned his love for food and sleep, which the gods enjoyed but did not require. Eventually, he reached the place where his territory and Winter’s met. The land rose up in jagged spikes that hid their faces high in the clouds, rising to impossible heights. Autumn flared his wings and descended slowly, dropping to his feet once he was close enough. He snapped his fingers and the wings vanished, leaving him to wander on foot through the narrow paths leading along the mountains.
He climbed for days, taking note of the various structures hidden within the rock so that he might remember them to return in the future. He did not tire, but he felt the form his spirit inhabited begin to grow weak and knew that he would need to build a new body upon returning, as he had pushed this one to its limit.
Finally, he found it. There was a place where it looked as though the mountains had been split into two parts by a giant’s blade, and a narrow precipice jutted out over the edge. Autumn peered over the ledge, and far below, he spied a river. This river he knew to be the Iraki Suteneth, the border between the god’s domains. It was swollen with melt-off from the mountain’s snowy peaks, and continued to carve at the stone that surrounded it. Carefully, Autumn moved onto the narrow path, placing a hand on the mountain’s face to steady himself, and began to walk. Every once in a while, tiny bits of stone broke off and tumbled down, causing him to pause. He knew it would be easier to fly to the location of the lily, but the winds that occasionally whipped between the cliffs kept him grounded.
The path broadened, becoming a long platform that reached over the edge. Perching there, as if surveying the river, was a gigantic stone lion with ruby eyes. The god stood still for a moment, thinking hard. This was the Celestial Winter had told him of, so where was the flower..?
The wind picked up, and in that second he caught a glimpse of yellow-orange by the lion’s paws. He moved to it, a wry grin appearing on his face as he came to stand before the stone titan. Growing directly between the huge paws was a single flower. Its leaves were spread wide as if hugging the beast that loomed over it, and the god could not deny that it reminded him of a child. He slowly encircled it with his slender fingers, pulling the entire plant - roots and all - from the earth.
“Thank you,” he whispered to the lion, then spread his wings and flew as only the gods knew how.
The flower sat in a glass of water on his desk, totally oblivious to the chaos and disorder that surrounded it on all sides. Autumn worked at a frenzied pace, surrounding both vase and flower in the glowing runes from before. As he wrote them, they slid into his target until it shone with a brilliant, ethereal light. When he finally stopped his writing, he bit his lip hard and swore that Winter would die if he proved false. A flash of light filled the room, and Autumn cursed loudly as a momentary blindness took him.
Slowly, the glowing dots receded from his vision. The room was completely still, and where the flower had once stood, there crouched a naked girl. Her skin was pale yellow with fading to red at her fingers, toes, and ears, then dusted with black spots like freckles. Her hair was long and green, hanging in wild tangles like vines. She slowly raised her eyes to Autumn, who continued to stare at her openly.
“Hello,” she said in a voice which was little more than a whisper, and Autumn ran forward to embrace her.
“My beautiful flower,” he crooned, overcome with joy. “My milan. That will be your name.. Milan.”
For the following weeks, Autumn studied every aspect of what he considered his greatest creation, writing down and illustrating her behaviors. She was fascinated by plants, and terrified of open flame - and had the curious ability to heal any wound. This was what mystified Autumn the most, as he brought a rabbit that had been impaled to her, and in seconds it was hopping about as if nothing had happened.
He sent word to Winter of his discoveries, and it wasn’t long until the pale man came to see Milan with his own eyes.
“Curious,” he murmured as Autumn had the girl demonstrate her ability on a three-legged dog. “Very curious..” his icy eyes glittered, and he took a mental note of the way that Autumn rained praise upon the girl and rarely looked away from her.
His plan was unfolding. This was what he wanted, but was unable to find, for every time he had traveled to the stone lion, it had awoken, roaring loudly and blocking off the flower. He expected that the Celestial lion would be able to sense his motives, but needed proof. Winter watched his crimson-haired cohort, his guinea pig in this experiment. Autumn, who had no idea of the flower’s potential, had pure intentions and so the lion allowed him to pick the precious blossom. He had even taken Winter’s ambitions a step forward and turning the flower into a person, and he had proved Winter‘s thoughts. This healing ability, this talent, would give him exactly what he needed to widen his range of influence. And Autumn, the love-struck fool, wouldn’t know what had happened until it was much too late. He moved slowly behind the other, eyes still locked on the child, then slammed his fist into the small of Autumn’s back.
There was a sharp crack, and Autumn’s world faded to black as his physical form gave a deep shudder and perished.
(con't in next post)
)