The creation of the world didn't take seconds. It was a slow, mathematical process. So very slowly pieced together. Circles upon circles placed as clouds, which were slowly molded from such a basic shape to shapes that could never be replicated. Mountains started as triangles just jutting from the ground. No beauty or tranquility flowed out of them. But as the world aged the mountains formed into beautiful majesties. They stood tall and powerful, yet gave a sense of calmness to those who were able to stand beneath them. Their jagged edges not seeming daunting, but comforting. Their sense of tranquillity became a symbol of hope for the people of the land. The mountains stood as a beacon to every soul that gazed upon them. Mist twisted around the mountains as it danced in the soft breeze.
In the middle of the grand mountain range, a tall snowy mountain stands. The slim peak resembles many of the watchtowers in the kingdoms surrounding it. In comparison, the surrounding range seems petite. Although the mountain stood tall and proud, it never was an uneasy feeling to stand by it. The mountain felt like it was watching over the land, keeping everyone from harm. Unlike the lush green range around it, this mountain was pure white. In the sun the mountain shinned like freshly fallen snow. Like a night sky full of glowing stars. Even the free mist seemed to bow to it. Birds of all kinds flew gracefully around the peak of the mountain. To the kingdoms who dwelled in this realm, it was seen as a holy monument. Many groups have dedicated their lives to worshiping it. Everyday throwing themselves on the ground, praying to it. For hours they sang their hymns in the grassy fields below. Their songs were full of the tails of the world creation. They sang to what they believe was the center of the world, where it all originated. Where that slow creation of the world started. No one dared to climb the tall holy mountain, for they fear The Gods wrath if they did.
Contemplating this all, a young curious girl stood on a high hill overlooking the mountain. The Mist danced around her, and the wind combed its soft fingers through her hair. She stared up at the tall holy mountain. Some part of her she didn't recognize called to it. It begged to move closer. As if something in her missed it, and needed it to live. Tears began to roll down her young face. She didn't know why she cried. It was confusing for her, why did she have such an emotion for a mountain? She never was one of its crazy fanatics. Although she loved to gaze at the mountain often, it never made much of an impact on her simple life. So the tears baffled her. Although she was confused by the emotions that seemed to consume her, she wasn't scared of them. The tears weren't the sorrowful tears she had wept when her mother died. They seemed like the tears a groom sheds when he sees his bride walk down the aisle. The tears a mother cries when she holds her newborn child.
Without her registering it, she took a step towards the white mountain. Her eyes never leaving the peak. That voice in her jumped for joy, cheering. Her steps quickened the closer it grew. The closer she got the faster she moved. Before she knew it she was running. Her feet hitting the soft grass. She practically sprinted past a group of people praying. They looked up and in utter fear they screamed for her to stop. She didn't even notice their cries. Their shrieks of terror drowned out by the sound of the wind. She continued to run towards it. Each step she could feel vibrate through her body. She had never run so fast in her life. Something in her broke free. As if something deep within her soul was free once again. The wind rushing past her face was cold, bitter, but it gave her joy, made her feel alive. It thrummed through her. That biting pain on her cheeks made her smile. Every fiber of her cried run faster so she did. As she ran faster she felt as if something sprouted from her. Like a plant bursting through the dirt, that had protected it. A new weight rested on her back. It was heavy, slowing her down. Annoyed at her sudden hindrance, she glanced behind her. A wave of surprise and joy rushed through her. That voice once again crying out in joy. From her back large white wings rested in the green grass. Like the mountain, they sparkled like freshly polished diamonds. She came to a stop, standing in the middle of the field, gapping at the wings that were hers. She moved them, flexing them out, feeling the strain of her muscles, they protested at the new movement. She slowly lifted them, gently flapping them. She laughed in absolute awe.
Her gaze returned to the mountain, standing so close to her. She started to run once again. As she ran her feet lifted from that grassy field. Those wings on her back lifted her high into the sky, Carrying her above the mist. She watched as the town below grew so small, but the world grew so much larger, the higher she flew. Soon she burst through the clouds that once hovered above her. In the clouds, she spun, joyful laughing filling the air. Pure joy filled her. Once she stopped spinning, she saw the very peak of the mountain. Something in her whispered Home. So she flew to it, faster than she had run. Although she may have not understood, she was where she was meant to be. The world continued to age, continued to change. She watched over the world as it did. She was never bound by anything, she was free.