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 Posted: Wed May 05, 2010 10:26 pm
[This page was ripped out from another book and carelessly tucked into the front of the journal. It seems to have been crumpled up then smoothed out several times]
Staring off into the ocean, she found the strangest thing...
The golden rays of the sun slowly faded into blood red and dark purple as he marched across the sky. For a moment, the sun’s path coincided behind the wide-open mouth of the ‘dragon’ mountain and it seemed that the fiery ball danced in the open jaws. The dying lights danced across the ocean, sending broken flashes in random directions. The light also fell upon someone sitting partially in shadow in a rock outcropping that lay on one of the many beaches dotting Amies. This particular one looked out on the open ocean, and was empty save for one girl.
She sat alone, dangling her bare feet in the cool water. Sturdy if old and dirty boots sat next to her within easy reach. Her faded pair of jeans had been rolled up to her knees and the plain white shirt’s sleeves had been pushed past her elbows, almost to the edges of her red and many-pocketed vest. Her boots and pack were set neatly on a rock where they wouldn't get wet or be covered in sand. A red bandanna covered long ebony hair that was bound in a low pony tail that hung halfway almost to her waist.
Stretching slightly, she allowed pale blue, almost white eyes to wander over the ocean’s surface again. The salty wind teased her pony tail as she scanned the water and the sky above but what she was looking for she couldn’t say. Two sea birds got into a squabble over a fish and the trace of a smile flicked across her lips as one of them hit the water after being buffeted back by the other bird. The loser came up complaining loudly but it flew away to search again for a fish. It was only after the red sun had almost completely submerged itself beyond the horizon and turned the sky different shades of purple did the girl get up from her rock, dry off her feet and put her boots back on.
A slow and lazy mist was beginning to rise up from the rapidly cooling water and creep closer and closer to the shore and the girl knew the tide would be coming in soon too. She bent to scoop up her pack but as she did, the sand was brushed away from something that she couldn’t see properly. Frowning a little, she knelt down and gently uncovered it. By the dying sun’s light, she could tell it was a bottle, but it wasn’t like any bottle she’d seen before.
It was sealed with a yellow stopper and the bottle itself was a beautiful light blue with a dark blue stripped pattern decorating this sides. There was something inside it, a kind of light almost dancing in the inside. For a moment she considered opening it, but something told her that would be a really stupid thing to do. Instead, she opened one of the pockets of her red vest and gently settled it in, closing and buttoning the flap. She would examine it more later, for now, she needed to get her stuff together before the tide came in.
Lashiel, called Lash by most people, paused before she left the beach, looking back out over the dark water before she moved on. She felt strange…. like she’d just found what she’d been looking for. Perhaps she’d been waiting for the sun to set but in the deeper part of her mind she knew it had nothing to do with the sun.
Unknown to her, the Dust inside the bottle stirred and knew her time would come and soon.
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Posted: Sat May 08, 2010 2:00 pm
[This page was also ripped from its original book and treated carelessly. Ink blotches dot the page and one of the corners is torn. There are no other ripped pages]
What IS that?
Lash lay awake, staring at the ceiling or her cheap room in the inn, trying to fall asleep. She rolled over onto her side, facing the wall now. She'd told the Old Man she's be back in three days, but the trip to Dragon's Peak had taken longer than she'd thought it would. Hopefully he'd be able to take care of the lighthouse for another day or two. Lash snorted as she realized what she was thinking: he'd been taking care of the lighthouse since before she was born--since before her mother was born. He'd be fine.
Why was it suddenly a little cold? She buried herself deeper into the quilt. The smell of the sea was subtly getting stronger too and she sat up suddenly, loking around. Had she left the window open or something? A quick glance around the room showed it was the same as it had been...
Wait... there was something floating above the floor. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn it was mist. But that was impossible...wasn't it? Cautiously, Lash eased herself out of the bed, and opened a window; was it leaking in her room somehow from outside? The night was clear, not a cloud in the sky, but when she turned around, the strange mist was still there.
What puzzled her even more, was it was staying in the same place. She closed the window again and leaned against the wall, thinking. What could it be? It wasn't near the door at all, it was near her stuff...near where she had put that bottle... muffling a curse, Lash was at her pack in a flash and began digging through it, the strange mist swirling around her until she found the bottle and pulled it out.
"What the---" The cap was closed but mist was pouring out of it and the faint light that had been within it, had grown brighter still. There was definatly a salty tang to it, making her think of sea mist. She shook her head. What the hell was she going to do with this thing?
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Posted: Sat May 08, 2010 2:36 pm
[This is the first page of the journal. Lash's handwriting is neater on these pages.]
Home sweet home...?
The journey back had gone much quicker than Lash had expected. Part of the way, a farmer had allowed her to catch a ride on the back of his hay wagon in exchange for helping him unload it. She hiked up the path, eager to be in her own room again and to take these damn boots off. She reached the top and almost ran into the Old Man. He gave her a stern look, "You're two days late." he growled, "Explain yourself." Lash sighed, "Can we talk about this inside? This pack is heavy." Scowling he stepped aside and led the way to the house.
Lash followed him, feeling guilty. Maybe she shouldn't have taken that detour to see the Dragon's Peak. It had been something she'd wanted to vist her whole life, but at the same time.... He held the door open for her and she passed him, going into the living area. She set her pack down with a heavy *thump* and kicked her boots off. She set them near the door where they would sit gathering dust for several weeks at least.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take so long. The carvings took a little longer to sell than normal and...." she hesitated. "And?" "I wanted to vistit Dragon's Peak." she muttered looking down. "Speak up girl, I can't hear you." Lash bit the inside of her cheek annoyed, his hearing was just fine. "I said I wanted to see the Dragon's Peak. I found the rock mom carved her name on." The Old Man stared at her for several seconds then sighed. "You could have told me you wanted to see that. We have pictures you know."
"Pictures don't do it justice." "Lash, its a rock. An interestingly shaped rock, but a rock." "And now that I've been there, I won't go again. Happy?" Lash turned to pick the pack back up and slung it over her shoulder. Without looking at her grandfather, she went up stairs and went into her room--closing the door softly behind her. The door was old and she didn't want to slam it for fear of having to fix it later.
She sighed heavily and slid the pack from her shoulder as she looked around. Her room wasn't large, but it was cozy. The bed rested in the far corner with a light blue quilt covering it. Two shelves had been installed onto one of the walls and books crowded against each other--packed as tightly as sardines in a can. Her clothes dresser sat next to a messy desk and a worn rug covered the wooden floor.
Lash opened her pack and pulled out the bottle; she'd wrapped it in all of the clothing she'd had in her pack to prevent it from breaking and to try and hide the mist that still spilled from it. She carefully unwrapped it and set it on the window still. The sun coming in from the window made the mist shimmer and Lash half expected it to disapate as she removed the rest her stuff from the pack. While the amount of mist present lessened, it didn't disappear all together.
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Posted: Thu May 13, 2010 11:02 pm
Of window washing and weather predictions
Lash stuck her tongue out at her reflection as she washed yet another window, standing on tip-toe to reach the glass from the deck of the gallery. The evening sea breeze was cool on her bare arms and made her shiver slightly but she didn't stop wiping the last traces of soap and water from the glass. It was especially important to ensure that these windows remaind free of grime as the light of the lantern wouldn't be able to be seen as well--if at all--through a dirty window.
The Old Man had gotten his 'revenge' for her having been late by ordering her to clean all the windows of the house, and of the lantern room. She was also to clean the lantern itself and ensure that all the parts were oiled.To be fair, it was a chore that she would of had to do even had she arrived on the correct day--although he would have taken care of the house windows. It was important to make sure everything was clean and functioning properly. That didn't mean she had to be thrilled about it though.
She made a new face--inflating her cheeks with her tongue still sticking out. Lash held it for a second or two, then released the air with a small laugh at herself for the childish display. At least she was almost done... Lash dipped the washing rag back into her bucket, wrung it out, then moved on to the last window.
A seagull landed on the gallery's railing and she paused to level an ice-eyed glare at the bird, silently daring it to empty its bladder on the railing or the wood of the deck. It jeered at her before dropping a wet present and taking off again as she threw the rag at it. Unfortunately she missed the bird and the rag went over the railing. It succumbed to the pull of gravity and landed on the roof of the house. "I hate seagulls." Lash said to herself as she stared at the place the rag had landed. "Damn troublesome feather brains." Muttering under her breath, she wiped the window dry with her spare rag then picked the bucket of soapy water up before going back inside.
The sun had mostly set now, the barest sliver still peeked over the horizon but the light was fading fast. She heard the faint whhrrring of machinery and averted her eyes to not be blinded as the lantern came to life. That was the nice thing about having a solar valve--the lantern would light automatically at nightfall and only required maintanence periodically. It wasn't anything like the old days the Old Man always complained about where someone had to wind the mechanism every four hours and ensure there was always enough oil in the lamp. [A "solar valve" was an invention that extinguished the light of the lantern at sunrise and reignited it under cloud cover or fog and at nightfall. The valve was controlled by four metal rods, one black and three highly polished, inside a glass tube. The dark rod absorbed light during the daytime, causing it to heat and expand, closing the gas valve. As daylight waned, the dark rod cooled to the temperature of the other rods, contracting and allowing the valve to reopen which would reignite the lamp.]
Quietly Lash made her way down the winding staircase and pushed the door leading to the house open. The stone floor was cold under her bare feet and numbed her toes, but she barely noticed. The Old Man was no where in sight which was somewhat of a relief. Lash dumped the water from the bucket into the sink then stashed the bucket and the rag in the counter built underneath the sink where she'd be able to find it.
Lash glanced around again for sight of the Old Man, but he remained out of sight. Shrugging mentally, she made her way up to her room, shivering slightly as she entered it. The window was still open and the room was a little on the cold side. She closed it but stood there for a moment, staring out at the scene below her.
A mist from the ocean was begining to thicken and Lash now noticed with mild suprise that the mist from the bottle had thickened to match it. Had it always done that? With a frown Lash thought back to the first night it had begun to emit the tendrils of mist but she remembered it as having been clear... "If you're supposed to be a weather predicter, I don't think you're a very good one." Lash told the bottle.
Slowly, two tenrils of mist arched up then down, almost like a shrug. The woman blinked then stared at the bottle for a second. The bottle sat innocently on the window sill, the mist tendrils acting like normal mist... well, normal-ish at least. Normal mist didn't emit mysteriously from bottles and not disapate comepletely even in direct sunlight.
As Lash turned away from the bottle, it occured to her that it -might- have been misty over the ocean and hadn't reached as far inland as the inn at which she had stayed. But how would a bottle know when it was and wasn't misty? "Stop it." she told herself aloud. Bottles didn't think. They didn't have a personality OR the ability to tell the weather.
At least, that's what she kept telling herself as she settled under her quilt for warmpth.
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