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Member
Join Date: Mar 2008
Posts: 1
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Oceanic (rouch start\Prologe, Extremely Unedited)
Say whatever you like.
He was sitting on the very edge of the cliff, looking out upon the vast, steel-like gray ocean. The sun was barely higher than the horizon, where the sea met the sky, in that place where his mind longed to be each and every day around this time. It was the beginnings of sunset on this particular chilly October evening, and he didn't plan on leaving this exact spot until convinced the only things present in his world were the sounds of ships sounding their horns faintly over the crushing waves of the black sea below. "I hear you.", he whispered, as if answering a distant call over the ocean.
The sun was slowly sinking into the water, as if delaying its inevitable demise into the depths. The celestial orb of burning red clashing with the Deep Blue always seemed to convey some battle taking place between the two, all but hidden from the prying eyes of human beings. The unique color spectrum given by this daily occurence, cast the last flickers of bright light upon the terrace from which he watched. It was high upon a tall cliff face, which seemed to stretch on for miles to both the north and south, which was reached by a small gravel road, barely visable from the highway it branched out from. The surface was that of sand, hardened from constant rains, then blown by high winds, and finally dried by the constant rays of the sun each summer, which seemed to get hotter with each passing year. Strewn here and there, were large, jagged rocks and stones, also polished and partially smoothed by the fierce storms year in and year out. Near the very edge of the cliff face, was an odd formation of such stones. At first glance, it looked like one large stone slab was standing up, towering over the sea as if a headstone marking the grave of some long forgotten King. Upon closer inspection however, things looked much different. He knew it wasnt just his imagination that made this formation of stones look just like a large throne of sorts.
On either side of the headstone-like slab, were large , jagged stones, looking much like twin-spires. They were both knocked over at an almost impossible angle towards the sea, parallel to eachother in a way that almost silently screamed to him that it wasn't likely they were positioned there by accident. To add to the "throne" like formation, at the center of it, in front of the headstone, was a large, horizontal stone. This particular stone was very smooth, and yet was not perfectly flat. It had two grooves in it, facing towards the edge, parallel to eachother, and to the twin spire-like rocks. It was as if some great leviathan had risen from the abyss, scaled this particular facing in the cliff, and upon reaching the top,had grabbed the rocks, and formed himself his "Throne of the Deep", and had sat himself here, in this place, to rest his weary limbs from the constant thrashing about under the sea.
As the sunset was nearing its climax, memories began to surface. Long since pondered, or remembered thoughts began to come to the front of the mind, from his own endless ocean of memory. He had been younger then, about 18, just barely a man when he first came upon this place. He was just recovering, emotionally, from the passing of his father. A giant of a man, standing well over six and a half feet tall, and weighing as much as twice that of any other man in the neighborhood, he was larger than life, and was his sons greatest hero. He had a booming laugh that could be heard three houses down, and his hands were strong enough to bend steel. Suffice it to say, It wasn't hard to imagine him being born of the earth directly, rising up from the dust, dirt and stone. At times, it seemed his flesh was made of something much more rugged then other men, something strong, rough, as if his muscle was made from the heart of a mountain, and his skin from the bark of a tall, ancient Oak. On the other hand, his humanity couldn't be put into question either. He was at the same time, warm and affectionate with his family. They were the light of his life, and the only thing he lived for. When needed, he would defend them with ferocity unlike a mere human man, with anger so hot, his eyes seemed to blaze like a molten furnace, and at times, when he misbahaved, he could remember the earthquake he felt around him when his father came upon him. "The Mountain King", he would call him, in his mind.
It was around this time that, chance would have it, he left his house, driving down this particular highway, wandering, searching for solace to the despair he felt for the loss of his hero. He wasnt driving long, along the coast, when he spotted it. He almost missed it, his mind wandering along lonely corridors, hindering his peripherals, and tunneling his mind forward. He curved along the road to the left, and spotted a narrow gravel road leading towards an dense crop of trees where the coast-line would be visable otherwise. He stopped a little ahead of the small road, not really knowing why. He parked the car along the road, turned off the engine, and for a moment, sat there thinking to himself. "I wasn't ready for you to go.", he kept repeating in his head. "Mountains stand strong, they dont just leave! You were my Mountain King! Who am I to rest against when weary? Who am I to run to for shelter when the world and its forces beat down on me? Where am I to turn when the wind blows so fierce? My great mountain is gone. It has been blown away by the harsh winds of life." These thoughts constantly bombarded his mind and heart, but one thought he refused to think this past week was finally breaking free of his control and would hit him hard, whether he wanted it to or not. "Who will save me now, if not you?".
He couldn't stand the thoughts that were flooding his mind, washing over him, making him sick all over and inside out. He had to get out, had to run, somewhere. Opening the door, he flung himself out, and slammed it shut in a blur of motion. "Run!" was his only thought at that moment. He wasn't running towards anything, he wasn't running away from anything, he was running because his body wouldnt let him 'not' run. He ran as fast as his legs would allow, which at the moment, wasn't very fast at all, given the loose gravel under his feet, and the wind blowing hard against him.
As he ran, blindly into the dense growth of trees towards the coastline, he felt the wind pick up speed, and strengthen its resolve against him. He pushed on, despite the winds best efforts, and entered the woods. It was as if the very trees themselves were attempting to drag him down into the earth below. The wind was thrashing them about, their branches scratching at his face and clutching his body like creatures with conviction. When the wind and trees, coupled with his sorrow and despair threatened to overcome him, he heard a faint voice, almost a whisper, over the winds, saying "Enough!". At these words the winds ceased their howling, and the tree's released their prey. He regained some compusure and rushed out of the thicket at full speed, coming to a sudden halt at the picture which met his eyes.
Where in one moment, sorrow, wind, and dark creatures of wood threatened to take him, now peace, light, earth and the sea invited him to sit and visit with them, like an old friend, or a welcomed traveler. The ground, firm, enduring, a foundation of comfort for him. The sea was calm, deep, a forgiving and forgetful friend ready to listen to the deepest desires of his heart. The sun, giving up the day to the moon, falling towards its bed among the depths of the ocean. He walked slowly towards the edge of the cliff face, staring out into heaven among the waves. All of the feelings, thoughts, and ideas he held close to him, about his father, and himself, the strength of the earth, and the tranquility of the water, were here in unison. He turned around and saw many large, dark gray stones about the place. The formation closest to himself, and the edge of this cliff, was of particular interest. It resembled a large stone chair, a throne of sorts. As he looked at it a few more seconds, a small smile, starting from the corner of his mouth, flitted accross his face. "Throne of the Deep!" he declared in a low, even tone, barely above a whisper. He moved to sit in this throne when a glint of light, not coming from the setting sun, caught the corner of his eye. he turned to look, and saw in the distance, to the North on the shore below, a firelight. This seemed a bit strange as, at least from this distance, no one could be seen around it, and it was very unlikely the fire had started all on its own, so close to the sea.
Putting this small anomaly from his mind, he sat in the throne, and looked out upon the sea. Where his father seemed to epitomize the strength, endurance, and kindness of the earth, he himself was a bit different. He felt very fluid about life. He could usually feel the ebb and flow of life, the constant waves of emotion crash and subside, the surging of life through and out of all things. the sea had always called to him in this way. He felt the world flowing back, and forth, in and out, through and around all things. Much like the deep places of the earth, the dark depths of the ocean held many secrets. As open as his father was with his family, he had always seemed to have something hidden, deep, beneath his many layers. It was the same for him, like father like son. Like the abyss, He too held some secrets close to him, and very deep down, where light does not show its face often.
"I know you are at peace now dad.", he whispered to himself. "The earth has reclaimed her king. Long live the King!". Almost before these last few words left his lips, a flash of extreme heat washed over his face, and spread over his entire body. His eyes were at once Wide open in shock, then clenched shut in agony. Fire was engulfing him. He was burning, all over. He fell from the throne unto his hands and knees, shaking, which was all he could do to stifle the urge to scream aloud in pain. After a few seconds, his body could hold him up no longer, and he fell on his side, writhing on the floor in extreme pain. Just when the blaze seemed to consume his mind, and he could endure no more, it stopped. He lay there for a moment, not even able to think coherently. After a few moments, he was gaining confidence that he was safe. He opened his eyes to survey the damage done to him, only to find no evidence of any fire whatsoever. He rose slowly to his feet, all the while, looking around for either someone, or something that might have caused his sudden episode. He found nothing for the better part of five minutes of searching and scanning, and went to go sit in the throne to regain some strength and rest when he turned out to the shore again. Not looking for anything in particular, his eyes fell upon the fire on the North shore, only this was now much more then a mere fire. Where before there seemed to be a small campfire, now there was a pillar of fierce flames, the heat of which could be felt all the way to the cliff face.
He couldn't move his eyes from the pillar, for he felt compelled to look into it by some unknown, malevolent force. The voice didnt come from the pillar itself, and it was not heard by mortal ears. It came from inside him. It came from every inch of him, and it made him feel fear, anger, and loathing he could never have imagined. It spoke not so much 'to' him, as 'through' him. Barely above an evil whisper, and yet as piercing as the loudest howl. It was a Hiss. "Are you quite sure it was the Earth?". With eyes wide open, jaw slackened, and mind terribly open, his fears came ever closer to being confirmed. "Do not be fooled, young Prince of the Deep! Your Mountain King has ben reclaimed by more then that!", it stated in an unnaturally smooth tone.
Regardless of whether he believed fire itself could grin at him up until this point, it did.
rough idea, still in early concept phase. thanks.
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By Holm D. William
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