|The Only One
Author: WonderWing PM
This story is as mysterious as its implications...Rated: Fiction T - English - Spiritual/Adventure - Words: 878 - Published: 09-22-11 - id: 2954520
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
You said you were the only one…
The words flashed on the screen- with the magnificence of an encroaching lioness- Clionet D'avur thought. He pondered what would drive her to such an extreme, such a supple, ponderous extreme.
The city lights were well beyond blinding even during the night. So dirty, really… the whole town. It was like walking into a roach motel.
"You don't even have to put your brilliance to any form of… use…" She trailed off seductively, with a hesitant half-thought near the end. He knew what she was thinking. She was thinking….
A foggish haze caressed the scene. Everything was brilliant but distant as he slipped through the fibers of light. He realized a particular band of fibers was cradling a child.
(Hmm so she's conceived..) his thoughts reverberated the walls and tightened the air, seeming to suck it dry of moisture.
Clionet hesitated for a moment, intending to remember this image.
"…You just have to be there for us when we need you… OK?"
His fingers rattled on the hardwood. It was all important, of course, but why had he been shown the child…
The shadow flickered across the street, veiled by the onslaught of rain. He knew. This was the battlefield. Whose side was he on? He didn't care. All that mattered was the dance…
Lumbering to his feet, his ankles creaked and bones popped from all parts of him. Each crackle was like a fresh breeze… He assumed the wide-legged stance his father had taught him.
'Only use it for stretching, Nimiko.' His dad would say. Well his dad…
He was another generation, another incomplete circumference of the ever-expanding circle of life. Whatever it was that humanity was attempting, Nimiko felt, they were doing it the wrong way.
Raising his arm, he felt almost as if a marionette was pulling his arm into position as he assumed Half-Moon Crescendo. He wasn't concerned with age anymore, or looks. Although, he knew if he sleeked his hair back just right, he could pull any rosebud off any bush, so-to-speak.
Lifting his leg and arching his back, he readied himself for the extension of his knee-
Bustling head-over-heels, Sanuka whirled in a fit of limb tornado.
"Whoah..!" He apologized profusely as Nimiko wiped the scowl off his face. Kids these days… well, kids were kids. He rose to his feet with one single motion, and, to his surprise, so did Sanuka.
Nodding his head as if in approval, Sanuka grinned wholly, so as to split his face. Nimiko could do nothing but grunt at such a pompous display of earnest arrogance, if such were possible.
"It must be this rain, man…" Sanuka began, but his story fell short.
"You know what brought you here."
Sanuka nodded, as if confirming to himself as much to anyone else.
"What is the price of your knowledge?" He bartered, as Nimiko cracked a smile.
"What is the price of any knowledge? Experience… Time, though if you are truly brilliant, that won't even matter."
Sanuka's heart fluttered, abeat. (This guy's the real deal… Maybe he'll show me how to…)
Nimiko pulled him abreast as a metro rail raced through the space where his student had stood just moments before.
This close, he could smell the old man's… was that perfume..? (Or maybe he had washed his clothes with a woman's laundry.)
Nimiko pushed him away. "No need to get so emotional, kid. What I'm gonna teach ya ain't gonna be fun…"
And it wasn't. But he learned anyways. And became the greatest Soul Surfer this galaxy has ever seen. That's what he was told, at least.
It came to him in fleeting bits, as if a dream. It was a lot like a dream in that it reacted to his volition at will, but he was on a track, almost. It was a 'fiber' they called it. A luminous, vibrant fiber… He experienced it the same way he experienced a breeze… a combination of sound and sight… no, that wasn't right.
He puzzled these perplexions as the morning masses came to rise up from the streets. Like vapour they rose, steamed (sometimes condensed) and evaporated once more. Eons passed before him. Different shades different textures, but still the people rose and simmered until only a crud was left…
Then the dogs of hell came. He could find no more peace, no more platitude or complatence= he was in motion. And an awareness of this motion seemed to give him strength. He had a momentum. He had….
He realized he was enveloped in all blackness, then the most searing light broke through like a crevasse. It was monumental, but something told him it was small, as well. It was enough, though, enough for him to slip through and….
Clionet was a simple child…. Or so he felt of himself. He was unsure of how the other kids would see him, but he knew he was a brave strong boy from… well for a long time. And he didn't have any reason to be afraid, he reminded himself as the playground doors swung open wide.