The flow of time is endless.
People are born to live and to die. The threads of fate show no mercy to any soul, regardless of the impact that person has left upon the
world. And as one person’s time stops moving, others will continue to go on.
They continue to live out the life set before them, taking detours as they come
along, but always returning to the source from whence they came.
But for one soul, feared by many
but loved by her creator, the gears of time that had once rusted to a stop had
begun to move once again…
“Shh!
What’s that noise?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“Would you shut up and go check it
out!”
“Yeah, yeah…”
The first man, a soldier of tall
stature yet slim and genuinely not built for battle, pushed the second man, a
round, chubby soldier of small stature, forward into the cave from which the
faint sounds came from. They were assigned to the night shift and had been
patrolling the outer regions of the kingdom when one had idly decided to stray
slightly from the set paths and had stumbled across a unique rock formation
that others remained unaware of. Driven by a large amount of curiosity, the men
decided to scour the mysterious land when a loud cry emerged from deep within
the cave.
Only a few meters in from the mouth of the
cave did they find what they were looking for; a small baby, wrapped in raggedy
towels and placed in a cheap, wooden casket—signifying that it had been left to
be picked up or destined to die—rested on the cold marble stone. The baby was
gripping onto something tightly—something identified to be a necklace with a shining
jewel of ruby and amethyst hanging from it under closer inspection. Suffering a
huge wave of guilt and responsibility, the two men took this baby into their
arms and returned to their kingdom, hoping to find a place for her to live.
As they left, a cloaked, golden
figure emerged from a shadowed corner of the cave. She held a scythe in her
hand and appeared to be no older than sixteen. Her clothes were mainly
black—contrasting greatly with her long, golden hair; her skin seemed to glow
with the radiance and luminosity of the sun, illuminating everything her
fingers blessed with their touch. But despite this young appearance, she walked
with grace and grandeur and radiated both eloquence and nobility.
From this spot she looked on as
the pair of stooges stumbled away, but she was unaffected by their incompetence
because, as their creator, she knew very well they were capable of ensuring the
child’s safe delivery. A lukewarm breeze blew by her just then, twisting
through her lengthy strands of hair and carrying her whispered words of
importance to the ears of the baby: “Your story is not yet over, my child.”
Indeed, it is far from over. The
second half has only barely begun.
Table of Contents Go on to Chapter Twelve-->
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