tears of a phoenix
I started this story earlier this afternoon, and finished it about an hour ago. It was one of those things where it felt like I just had to write it, a way to express feelings without really knowing how to explain them. I don't know what inspired me, whether it was some feelings that wanted to surface but which I wouldn't really let, or just something I felt I should do. The only thing I did with it after I had finished was spell-check it, and was rather surprised when I re-read it and discovered that I really didn't need to do anything else, when usually I'll write and rewrite different parts of my stories over and over again to better convey the mood. This time? I didn't think I really had to.
A silent figure stood alone in a green meadow surrounded by trees, moonlight draping her in a magical silver glow. She stood without moving, so still any human eye would see her as nothing but a patch of mist hovering over a hidden spring. Only the feather light stirs of her long, silver hair and pale blue/silver gown billowing in the wind betrayed any indication she was anymore then the mist which she appeared.
The sounds of the night surrounded her. The constant songs of frogs in the distance, the musical chirps of tree frogs nearer-by... A steady trickle of water over rocks, the bubbling of underground springs. The wind whispering through broad, green leaves and the occasional call of a night bird all added to the night symphony.
It was just noise to the ungrateful ear, unwanted and uncaring, just one more annoyance to distract from a precious night sleep. But to one silent, glowing figure, standing alone in a moon-clad field, it was the only companion she had left which to share her pain.
One step in the dew-covered grasses... then another... a flutter of silver-blue silk that glittered as if with diamonds. A twist of body, arms stretching over shoulders in a graceful bend, a tight turn. Feet making patterns in the grass, arms outstretched in perfect balance. Each movement flowed from her body in liquid perfection, the long sleeves that reached almost to the ground swirling around her one moment, and then billowing out behind the next. Each step that she took calculated and yet spontaneous part of a complicated dance that she made appear effortless.
She moved across the field to the voices of the night, a swirl of mist to the untrained eye. Any being able to see through that disguise would have sworn she was floating, dancing on air, be them human or elven.
She danced, conveying with her body what she could not convey in words. It was a symbol of her love... and it was an expression of her tears she would not yet let fall.
She danced... each step an offering to the children who would never have a chance to grow up.
She danced... each turn a blessing to families left without a father.
She danced... each breath a prayer for a mother whose children were left to grow up as orphans.
She danced to express the endless sorrow in her heart... she danced to honor the memory all those who were lost... she danced because it was all she had ever been able to do without stumbling.
She wasn't sure how long she danced across the field, nor did she care. She didn't know any special ceremonies or right of passages in which to honor all those who had been taken from her, so she danced for them. It was the only thing she had ever really known how to do, and she would continue to do so until it felt she had done enough for their memory. Or, at least as much as she could.
She let the music of the night carry her, following where it led until she felt a stirring in her soul, a small voice in her heart telling her that she had done enough... for now, at least. It was only then that she slowed her movements, finally letting a few tears escape from her eyes as she fell to her knees in the damp grass. A few tears turned into a few more, and those into a few more still... until finally, she was crying so hard she could no longer see. She wept as hard as she had danced only heartbeats before, finally giving into the deep, ingrained ache of sorrow in her heart. Crystal tears watered the ground beneath her, soaking into the rich earth and finding their ways to hidden seeds which would only grow when fertilized by magic.
Right before her eyes flowers woven from long forgotten magic grew around her, one for every man, woman and child of her people that now lay among the ashes of what should have been their sanctuary but ended up being their funeral pyre. Soon she was surrounded by a field of glowing flowers, each one matching the color of the eyes of the person which that flower represented, a monument to their memory.
She stared at the field of color around her, eyes still damp with tears but no longer crying. A field of flowers... a field of memories... She wasn't sure how exactly how it had happened; maybe it was an ancient fey ceremony, so long forgotten that it wasn't even sung about in the songs of their history anymore... but for now, it was enough.
The cry of a phoenix rang from somewhere above her, and she lifted her eyes to the sky. The glittering of stars became all the more vivid as they were seen through the remnants of tears still in her eyes, and she followed the golden arc of fire mingling with the far off pin pricks of light. It streamed across the sky toward her, golden sparks lighting a trail in the sky behind it. When close enough, the great bird back-winged lightly and landed gracefully on her out-stretched arm. She hugged the magical creature to her chest, that last of her tears mingling with it's golden feathers. She heard it chirp sadly as it tucked it's proud head under her chin, a single hot tear falling from it's eyes and onto her chest as it voiced a sorrow matching her own.
It is said the tears of a phoenix have magical healing properties... If only they could heal a broken heart.
A silent figure stood alone in a green meadow surrounded by trees, moonlight draping her in a magical silver glow. She stood without moving, so still any human eye would see her as nothing but a patch of mist hovering over a hidden spring. Only the feather light stirs of her long, silver hair and pale blue/silver gown billowing in the wind betrayed any indication she was anymore then the mist which she appeared.
The sounds of the night surrounded her. The constant songs of frogs in the distance, the musical chirps of tree frogs nearer-by... A steady trickle of water over rocks, the bubbling of underground springs. The wind whispering through broad, green leaves and the occasional call of a night bird all added to the night symphony.
It was just noise to the ungrateful ear, unwanted and uncaring, just one more annoyance to distract from a precious night sleep. But to one silent, glowing figure, standing alone in a moon-clad field, it was the only companion she had left which to share her pain.
One step in the dew-covered grasses... then another... a flutter of silver-blue silk that glittered as if with diamonds. A twist of body, arms stretching over shoulders in a graceful bend, a tight turn. Feet making patterns in the grass, arms outstretched in perfect balance. Each movement flowed from her body in liquid perfection, the long sleeves that reached almost to the ground swirling around her one moment, and then billowing out behind the next. Each step that she took calculated and yet spontaneous part of a complicated dance that she made appear effortless.
She moved across the field to the voices of the night, a swirl of mist to the untrained eye. Any being able to see through that disguise would have sworn she was floating, dancing on air, be them human or elven.
She danced, conveying with her body what she could not convey in words. It was a symbol of her love... and it was an expression of her tears she would not yet let fall.
She danced... each step an offering to the children who would never have a chance to grow up.
She danced... each turn a blessing to families left without a father.
She danced... each breath a prayer for a mother whose children were left to grow up as orphans.
She danced to express the endless sorrow in her heart... she danced to honor the memory all those who were lost... she danced because it was all she had ever been able to do without stumbling.
She wasn't sure how long she danced across the field, nor did she care. She didn't know any special ceremonies or right of passages in which to honor all those who had been taken from her, so she danced for them. It was the only thing she had ever really known how to do, and she would continue to do so until it felt she had done enough for their memory. Or, at least as much as she could.
She let the music of the night carry her, following where it led until she felt a stirring in her soul, a small voice in her heart telling her that she had done enough... for now, at least. It was only then that she slowed her movements, finally letting a few tears escape from her eyes as she fell to her knees in the damp grass. A few tears turned into a few more, and those into a few more still... until finally, she was crying so hard she could no longer see. She wept as hard as she had danced only heartbeats before, finally giving into the deep, ingrained ache of sorrow in her heart. Crystal tears watered the ground beneath her, soaking into the rich earth and finding their ways to hidden seeds which would only grow when fertilized by magic.
Right before her eyes flowers woven from long forgotten magic grew around her, one for every man, woman and child of her people that now lay among the ashes of what should have been their sanctuary but ended up being their funeral pyre. Soon she was surrounded by a field of glowing flowers, each one matching the color of the eyes of the person which that flower represented, a monument to their memory.
She stared at the field of color around her, eyes still damp with tears but no longer crying. A field of flowers... a field of memories... She wasn't sure how exactly how it had happened; maybe it was an ancient fey ceremony, so long forgotten that it wasn't even sung about in the songs of their history anymore... but for now, it was enough.
The cry of a phoenix rang from somewhere above her, and she lifted her eyes to the sky. The glittering of stars became all the more vivid as they were seen through the remnants of tears still in her eyes, and she followed the golden arc of fire mingling with the far off pin pricks of light. It streamed across the sky toward her, golden sparks lighting a trail in the sky behind it. When close enough, the great bird back-winged lightly and landed gracefully on her out-stretched arm. She hugged the magical creature to her chest, that last of her tears mingling with it's golden feathers. She heard it chirp sadly as it tucked it's proud head under her chin, a single hot tear falling from it's eyes and onto her chest as it voiced a sorrow matching her own.
It is said the tears of a phoenix have magical healing properties... If only they could heal a broken heart.