|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Sep 18, 2013 8:43 pm
Pale, blue eyes opened to a lush, green ceiling. Naturally created green. Green that seemed to encase the walls, the pillars, the very foundation of the room he found himself in. Vines and moss touched everything, looking more unwelcoming than it ever should. He was on his back, in what seemed to be a cathedral, the likes of which he had never laid his eyes on.
Such peculiar things surrounded him.. They weren’t pews.. Small sections of seats, no longer than two feet across. Whoever was here, they did not like touching each other; tiny seats for smaller bodies were towards the front, child size, still several feet between one another. There was no feeling of discord in the remnants of this broken down room. Listening closely, there even seemed to be soft songs of a hardly known language bouncing in the high and crumbling ceiling.
As he finally came to his feet, the boy found himself staring down at the place where he once laid. An altar of sorts, covered in invasive fauna, with light hitting it from all angles as the ceiling was hardly there. Beneath his feet seemed to be piles of dust.. His eyes moved to take in every single centimeter of the room. Dust.. Dust piles, some large, some small, but scattered around the room in a pattern, one pile for every seat. From each pile emerged a single flower, varying in color and size, but each came from the center of a pile. even where he had awakened, there was a flower, much larger than any other, and crushed from his body.
A certain sort of sadness filled the boy’s chest as he maneuvered around the room, carefully avoiding each mass of dust. He knew what they were, perhaps not from any sort of previous knowledge, but a gut instinct. Their patterns were too consistent, the placing of piles too uniform. He would not recognize it, no, not yet. There was not a way to confirm his fears. Soon, he reached the doorway, looking back into the large room with a sigh and a soft prayer whispered. These echoing walls, the gentle light that filtered through stained glass.. He wished peace to whatever resided here, even if it were just memories.
Upon opening the door, such a bright, blinding light hit his eyes. Such light hurt; his eyes stung and watered, his skin seemed to sizzle, simmering under the heat. Everywhere around him were flowers, and dark, clay-like figures. He stood at the top of what seemed like a palace, with the cathedral he emerged from standing center. Everything around him was crumbling, copper-colored stones broke apart in every direction, and not a single building within his eyesight seemed to be complete. Everyone around him did not speak. They did not see him, they did not move, frozen in time, baked by the star that looked on from so far away. They were statues, right? The boy came up closer to them, gazing over one of what seemed like a man, smiling down to a child. Both were still, paused in time as if nothing was keeping them from continuing their conversation. The details.. The crows feet at the corner’s of the man’s eyes, the curvature of his nose which ended in a slight point, downturned.. The child’s fingers were intertwined with the man’s, his eyes crying though there were no signs of tears, no signs of anything moist and cool.
A slender, darkened hand reached out to touch the figure, marveling at such detail there, but as he grazed it with a finger, it collapsed, crumbling down to dust in a pile at his feet. Startled, the boy pulled back, looking around the courtyard that he stood in. There were so many figures, just as that one. Men, women, children, what seemed to be soldiers, workers.. Some smiling, some looking angry, others.. They seem to be fleeing, heading downwards, towards an entrance which seemed to be the heart of this palace. The boy wanted to see where they had gone, where were they fleeing to, but something pulled him towards the opposite direction, towards where they had been running from.
He descended the stairs, reaching the bottom with hardly any effort at all, being careful to avoid touching any other figures, for fear of shattering anything else. The walls that came up all around him, from buildings to walls that separated properties, were all in pieces. The boy took a large leap, landing on top of a sturdy, yet dilapidated pillar. Thousands of figures could be seen around him, fleeing towards the palace, yet they were unmoving. Further outwards, past all of the homes made of stones and clay resided a wall, unlike any other he had seen before. It went around the entire city, from what he could tell, and it seemed to be much higher than all of the other buildings, heading further towards the sky than even the palace. Chunks of the wall seemed to missing, some with simple holes towards the bottom, to entire sections that were destroyed for hundreds of feet at a time.
In his ears were echos. Sounds of laughter and sounds of sales. Sounds of animals moving about, of trades happening, and of every day light. The sound of the wind even faintly echoed about in the shadows, whispering a story that he could not understand, not as of yet. Then something loud, and something shrill reached his ears, something as if it were being projected directly into his ear. Pain stabbed his ear, nearly causing him to fall to his knees, covering his ears. It wasn’t real, he knew this, just memories, remnants of the life that used to be here, but the feeling was just so intense. The walls surrounding the city seemed to be where it had come from, it’s past point of origin.
Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, the boy continued onwards, attempting to make it to the exterior wall of the city. There were no figures up here, no way to accidentally destroy one. Each rooftop was smooth, and seemed to be angled in such a way that seemed perfect for an extensive amount of rain. The boy could not understand why, as the entire area seemed so dry, so arid that it could have been impossible for rain to come. The air was stiff as well, making it difficult to breath. He was so hot, so thirsty, but he was not ready to leave just yet.
Reaching the wall, he ran his gaze from base to top, curious to just how tall the structure up. Upon closer inspection, running his fingers across the marble, there were designs carved into them. Magic runes? Pictures or graffiti? He did not know, but they were so intricate, weaving together a story, one that he could not understand. Below his perch on this rooftop, he saw there were more figures down below, holding their fingers to the wall. Their fingertips pressed to the wall, and what trailed behind them were the same bizarre patterns that covered the wall up on high. Why they said.. He did not understand, but a realization came to the boy. Whatever did this, whatever froze these people in their dusty, dried out forms, it was not seem. It must have swept over the city like a plague, infecting everyone outside. Frozen forever in what must have been just a day just as any other here.
There was no reason to stand about for now, no matter how the boy felt. There was nothing to do for these people, not now. He took another leap from his rooftop, summoning his own wall, using it to project himself higher. The boy did it over, and over, and over again, until he reached the very top, standing on a walkway that was at least a few hundred feet wide. This wall he stood on was far thicker than he could have ever imagine, though it was a bit hard to be entirely surprised. His planet seemed to value their walls, their privacy. It wasn’t too far fetched a thought that they were trying to keep something out. Whatever it was, it must have been huge, to cause the walls to break down as they did.
The boy turned away from the city side of the wall, taking a moment to collect his thoughts by gazing at his feet. The woman who had told him about all of the homeworlds was very much correct with his own. Not a single soul was left, not even the wind blew in this wasteland of corpses and flowers. Such solitude would have normally frightened the boy; his heart would race, his fingers tremble in fear and anxiety, but not now. No, the only feeling he had in his chest was a deep, aching despair. Had he been useless to these people? He was to have been the most elite soldier that this planet had to offer, was his being here so insignificant that he could not have even saved a single soul? The boy shook his head, trying to avoid feeling any more pain within his chest. Surely, if a single tear was shed, it would evaporate to nothing. Instead, he began to walk towards the far side of the wall. He knew what the city had appeared as, but what of the land beyond the wall?
What had he been expecting?
Lush grass all around, a calm, wonderful sea breeze that wafted through the air. Endless oceans all around, reaching as far back as the eye could see, and onwards for eternity. No, there was no expectation of people, he knew that would never be, but there was just hope for some sort of life. Maybe no humanoids or animals, but at least something that was tangible, something that belonged here.
That desire, that longing for such a thing.. Why couldn’t it be?
All that seemed to meet his eyes was endless sands. Beautiful, in their own right, but cracked, dried, broken bits of an ancient sea. Ships were stranded in place with what seemed to look like dust figures of the crew trying to escape fallen on the sides. The destruction that seemed to be all over his city extended past the wall’s borders. Skeletal figures seemed to be scattered all around, from giant fish, to birds, all withered away in this world of here. All things seemed to have dried up, as if some unknown power had sucked his world dry.
Not the flowers though. These flowers, seeming so out of place among the copper sands of the city, poking through the bases of each dust pile and figure. He knew not of their origin; there was something that tugged in his mind, glimpses of the old world that he might have recognized, and they were not there. They were never there. They did not belong here, not in this world. They were a plague of sorts, he was certain.
The was no way to stop the overwhelming sensation of despair that was pushing down on him. The pressure pushed him further and further to the ground, till he finally collapsed to his knees, letting out a tormented sob. The peace he had dreamt into existence was shattered, and everything that he had let go of, his fear, his agony, his torment, returned, crushing him to the very dust that was strewn about the city.
These people were his to protect, and yet he found himself so far away, on a rock that surely held no meaning to him and his people. If he was such an elite warrior, why was everything to dust? He had failed everyone here, with nothing left to do but mourn.
He could not move from his spot; for what seemed like eternity he stayed on the dilapidated walls, gazing out painfully at world behind him. He couldn't manage to move from his spot. His sun, his star, Avior, burned down on his skin, bearing down on him just as hard as his own guilt.
Word Count: 2067
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 04, 2013 8:37 pm
Even with the pain going through his chest, the tears that stung his eyes, and the weakness in his legs, the boy could not let himself remain outside any longer. The heat bore down on him with a pressure that seemed to smother him. He was not so unwise to remain outside any longer. Slowly walking to the edge of the wall that was turned to the inside of the city, he looked down, smiling ever so faintly to himself. It took but a faint breeze to push him from his teetering position, and he fell.
Head first, he raced to the ground, eyes slowly closing. There was no fear for his health right now, only the sounds of the wind rushing past his ear reached him. How many times had he done such a thing from heights back on Earth? Too many to count; from running away from mad men trying to kill him, to just searching for the release and freedom, that rush of air brushing across his skin, clouding his ears from hearing any other sound.. Not even the sadness that was fogging his mind could be bothered with, not while he zoomed in closer and closer to the earth below him.
Soon enough, he landed on the rooftop of the closest house to the wall, using one last wall of his own to help cushion his fall. He saw more of the dust figures from this perch.. How many people were exactly in this city..? It was cramped feeling, as if these people didn’t care about how their walls kept them inside. They built upwards, with some of the buildings even becoming part of the wall itself. The boy would have found this place fascinating if he were not so heartbroken over the statues. If the city had been empty, it wouldn’t have hurt so badly..
No, instead every face that lived here was frozen in place for all eternity, with such bright and mocking flowers coming from the base of their necks. What was the flower supposed to be saying to him? A simple apology for killing everyone in this city? A gloved hand came up to touch the back of his own neck, feeling paranoid about them.. There was no way in telling if these flowers could spread to him as well, if they could somehow embed themselves into his skin, and perhaps cause the same doom to him as they did to the citizens of this city.
Paranoia to the entire outside air began to grow, overpowering his want to explore the city further, yet, he did not want to leave. A glinting light from what seemed to be the palace caught his eye, drawing his attention away from the wall, from the ground, from the people around him. He focused on that light, compelled to find out what it was. What on this planet could give off so much light?
Twisting, turning, vaulting from rooftop to rooftop, the boy worked his way back up high, doing his best to not looking down on the faces below. The pathway he took lead him up to a balcony, at the very front of the copper toned palace, that faced right above the wall, high enough to have a view of what would have been the sea. He came face to face with a pair of crystalline glass doors, and looking inside, his simply saw himself. Was it a mirror..?
It took a bit of effort, but the door finally gave way, and though a cloud of dust came up from the outside in, the room was empty. Empty for everything besides mirrors. The floor, the walls, the door on the other side, and the ceiling.. It was all nothing but mirrors, with what seemed to be a fire pit in the middle. He could feel the heat come from him, in but a flash of warmth and a flicker of color. Quickly looking outside again, another image came past his eyes, one of darkness and an infinity of twinkling stars lighting up the black sky. And then daylight came again, forcing the boys eyes closed. Visions, perhaps, of what had once happened so long ago, something he couldn’t understand. But if just being in this infinite room caused them to begin, then certainly going further into the palace would bring on more. Though this room seemed endless, there was a panel that held a handle, being the only exit out of this wide room, other than the way he came in.
The mirrored door pushed open with no sound, giving light to a room that seemed far larger than any of the others he had encountered thus far. Laughter and cheering filled his ears for a brief moment, before silence once again. These visions and memories were becoming clearer, though they still remained as short as they started. Whatever was in this majestic room brought a comforting feeling to his chest. A place that was familiar and gentle to his mind.
Fully entering this room revealed a large statue towards the center of the room, one of a woman who stood on her toes, in a pose that resembled that of a ballerina. Perhaps she could have been a goddess of this planet, or the queen herself.. From where he stood, the woman did not have the flower, nor did she seem to be dust as all of the people that surrounded her.
In a moment of childish wonder, his arms stretched out to keep himself balanced, raising to his toes, mimicking the statue. The boy was not a professional dancer but such an overwhelming desire to dance filled him, one that slowly pushed the sadness he had encountered so far out of his mind, that maybe, for this instant, he found peace in this room. The figures that stood still in this ballroom all gathered around in a circle, arms linked around one another, feet crossed through one another. What was going through here when their clocks stopped? A wedding? Some sort of celebration? Or maybe it was a dance of prayer, hoping that their city would be saved somehow.
This dance that the figures had been doing right as they were frozen with time, it was familiar, as if the memories had danced across his dreams, his mind before he had even arrived back on this sandy plane. Shadows waltzed around the room, and the boy followed in their footsteps, tracing the movements that glided as if they were meant to be for someone who hovered, rather than being attached to the ground. Phantom hands could be felt on his hip and on his own hand that was raised into the air, as if holding another. If his blue, hazy eyes were to slip closed, maybe he could even imagine his partner in this dance, guiding him to another door, on the far side of the enormous room. It was there where the urge left him as quickly as it came.
The door was a small one.. Perhaps used only for the servants, to move about the palace without notice. Decorated with a metal that seemed to be brass, in a pattern that faded into the motif of the wall itself. To a passerby, nothing could be noticed different about it, sans for a thin half circle of a handle poking out low. A tug was given to it, then a jerk, and yet it stood fast. A little foolish curse slipped by his lips as the door gave a little when he tried to push, rather than pull. Still, the door moved but mere inches. The boy gave a more forceful push, aided by by his given strength as a senshi, and the door opened just enough for his small frame to slip through.
Having expected to be greeted by darkness, the boy was greatly pleased with the wondrous glowing orbs that dotted the walls within this small hallway. Even if there was no power on this planet, even if it has been abandoned for over a thousand years, these orbs continued to glow, splitting the darkness that would have otherwise engulfed this corridor. He reached out, tracing over one that was low enough for him to reach. It was cool, even cold to the touch, but still glowed with a dim yellow light. On it’s own, the stone could not be of much help, but there were hundreds of stones inside of the walls, lining both sides. They ranged from about the size of a dime, to almost as big as his own palm. Some of them had scratches on them, and the boy imagined some of the younger members of the palace going about and trying to pry them out. It was a cute little thought, amidst all of the rest of the tragedy that seemed to surround his past home.
The corridor seemed to go in two directions, further upwards, or down below. Now that he stopped and took a moment to turn around and close the door behind him, he saw what had been blocking the door before. Piles of boxes had been stacked up, pressed against the door tightly so that it could not swing open. Whoever was in here, they were keeping something out. There was no way to continue going upwards, for chairs and tables and boxes and other bizarre things were stacked so that not a thing could go up or down from the next level above. Even the lighted stones glowed no longer from that direction. The boy had no choice but to go lower, deeper into the interworking of the palace.
Every set of stairs stopped at a different level, with each level containing a different color glowing stone. The boy figured it was to be a system, to help organize which floor a person was on without having to number something. Or perhaps the coloring system WAS a counting mechanism. He could not say, but each floor seemed to be the same, the doorway that would lead to the rest of the palace was blocked off with more boxes, and there were no signs that anyone had ever been allowed in. Maybe it was for the best he had not bothered to move the boxes, certainly his tears would begin again if he found that people were fighting to get into the closed off halls.
Descending about ten staircases, passing by what was obviously kitchen, bedroom, a throne room, and several dungeon levels, he finally came to the bottom. After passing the last level before this one, he must have went down at least a thousand steps, and the stones in the wall finally changed into a pure, white glow. Normally, such solitude and silence would drive the boy mad, forcing him to close within himself until everything was right again, yet the sounds of his own breathing, and his own steps echoed through the narrow staircase felt so very welcoming. The very walls around him bounced back the sounds he made, thanking him for finally returning.
Enormous, red obsidian doors were closed tight at the very bottom of the palace, looking out of place in the darkness. Such a color vaguely reminded him of his own hair, and he briefly wondered if that had anything to do with how his planet, becoming more suspicious of his connection here when the handles seemed to be made of a color that matched his own eyes. He doubted he was royalty, it could not be so convenient as that. Perhaps, instead, it was just a common trait of his people. Maybe everyone on this planet had such colors to them.
The door moved surprisingly easily when he pulled on it, given all of the other doorways he had encountered. He took no real notice of the massive pile of dust to the side of the door, nor of the flowers that seemed to make a ring in the corner; his eyes focused only on what he could see past the doorway. Inside of the room was something between shocking and predictable. Giant slabs of something akin to black, highly polished onyx shot up from the ground in repeating intervals, over, and over again, endlessly going on or as far as he could see. Each slab had an etching on it, a drawing, much like the hieroglyphs from ancient Egypt, yet far more detailed. The anatomy was perfect, every detail all the way to each eyelash was drawn as if looking straight at a photograph and the etchings seemed to be filled in with the same .
The boy walked through the center rows, looking down each row, trying to see if he could find whoever had boarded themselves in here. So far, there was no sign of anyone having been down here.. But that simply couldn’t be the case, right? There had to have been someone down here, someone having survived longer than the others. A wall stood out from the others, further towards the back, for it glowed red, rather than white like the others.
A stunned gasped escaped the boy’s lips, for, instead of the dust figure he had been expecting, there was simply an outline of a body, glowing a bright red just as the wall above it. No bones, no dust, just an outline, like the person had instantly vanished, and his body dissolved into sand of the stones that he must have been using on the wall. The boy finally took a step backwards, taking in the entire wall.
Senshi. It had to be a senshi, right? There was no mistaking that look, that collar, tiara.. And he was standing ontop of some sort of rubble.. And there was a body there, below the senshi’s feet.
Avior. The name screamed in his ears, accompanied by the sounds of some sort of unidentified horn, blaring louder and louder until he collapsed to his knees. Everything hurt, his hands, his legs, his ears and eyes, they ached from the sound that reverberated throughout his body, he ceastly sounds of horns, and the sounds of the thick, sturdy stone walls around the city collapsing above him. The room quaked, and screams reached him more and more from within this massive stone archive. They screamed and screamed, banging on the door, begging in some unknown language to be allowed into the safe zone, until one last, mighty blast of the horn sent everything to silence. Catching his breath seemed far more difficult than it was before, yet he quickly scrambled to his feet, scouring the records for further information about what had happened, what those memories were.
Whatever senshi was drawn here, whoever they were, they did this. They were not Negaverse, they were not Dark Mirror Soldiers here, no, they were just as much of a senshi as he was, with white clothing and a planet to protect.. Did Avior have no allies? Were there no soldiers of his own here? Why were there no recordings of people helping him during this tragic affair?! There was nothing here that even indicated that there were any other senshi, just him. Just the past Avior who looked so stunningly like him that it was frightening.
No one helped him. And these records showed no instance that anyone outside of his own planet even cared. And this information clogged his mind far worse than the idea that the people here were turned to dust. Was the universe around him so cruel? What was even the point of having senshi around if they did nothing to help others that were in need?
Hours passed as he slowly moved through the gallery of walls, dazed, confused, and feeling utterly empty and alone.
So very alone.
It never dawned on him that he had ascended the vast staircase once more, that he had gone through the ballroom, through the room of mirrors, and now stood on the balcony, looking out into the pitch black world. His body knew that it was time to go home, even if his mind couldn’t wrap around what he had learned.
Word Count: 2689
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
