Archive for March, 2011

March 29, 2011

Oasis

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Still we lament the pale children, even after so many winters. We had so much to teach them. But of all lessons, they needed most to learn the way of water—free water that runs down the rock and gathers in itself. Moving down, always down, halting only to gather strength to overcome. Knowing water, they would know the flow of all things. In all the time remembered, things go this way: the flow moves on ‘til it must gather for a moment. When enough water has gathered, the flow continues. It is with us as with water. We and water roll through time, a ceaseless flow.

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March 25, 2011

The Incursion

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Child,

Every Walker steps in time, loosing a thunderous drum across the valley. But even the Walkers have difficulty hearing their roar over the rising wind. True nightfall ought not come yet, but the sky grows dark; no stars fade in to replace Sun. The reality of Clay-People and Storm weighs on each Walker’s face. Their eyes twitch with fear that the most terrifying Stories were true, that their trek across Another Desert had a true and arcane purpose.

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March 21, 2011

The War Song

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Child,

Sun sits low on the horizon, watching the Walkers prepare for war. Pickers are coating spears in poison extracts while the Hunters practice their fighting forms. Storyteller Hahnd has gathered the children in the core, and recites old stories of great victories in Yesterday’s Daruhn. The children ask to hear the story of Vel again and again, and Hahnd is happy to oblige, his voice vibrating with pride for the Walker heritage. The young eyes twinkle with wonder, enraptured by the master Storyteller’s music.

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March 12, 2011

A Light in the Dark

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Child,

Secure in Running Before Sun’s loving embrace, Kin trembles. Tears glisten on the edge of his eyes. He reaches for his new brother’s hand.

Storm destroys conflict.

Running Before Sun nods.

We started the war; we killed ourselves.

Kin can only sob. He does not hear Old Song walk into the chamber, or the procession behind her carrying a dead Clay-Person. Running Before Sun hears, and leaps up to greet her. Old Song motions for him to take his place in line, and Kin’s friend slowly falls in with the procession. The wizened woman kneels down to Kin, putting his palm in hers.

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March 5, 2011

Storm

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All other Stories are flowers—a root, a stem, and a blossom. After the blossom, another flower is another Story. But this Story is like the wind. It swirls over every dune, around all the people, blowing all the way back to where it began. It is the first thing that the world remembers, and it will be the last. People are as a single dune in the desert to this Story. None remember who first told this Story; it might be the first. It might be true in ways other Stories could only dream.

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