Tales of the Parodyverse >> View Post
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Post By
Dancer_

In Reply To
Rhiannon

Subj: Gloomy but good.
Posted: Mon Dec 24, 2007 at 08:19:32 am EST
Reply Subj: Aella 2,
Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2007 at 10:34:44 am EST


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Aella 2,

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>     A sweet, quiet, lonely song drifted out above the grey and turbulent sea, seeming gentle and fragile as it floated above the hard, grey waves.
>     It was a dark night. A thick layer of oppressive clouds had descended upon the sky blocking out the moon and stars. A howling wind shrieked across the shoreline. The damp air held the promise of soon to come torrents of rain.
>     Inside the isolated cove however the high cliffs shielded the strip of beach sheltering at their feet from the worst of the inhospitable elements. A fair amount of the weather’s fury did manage to burst in though, despite the naturally sheltered placement of the cove.
>     The night was cold and harsh then, but it was most of all dark. The cliffs, beach and furiously rolling sea had become black shadows, twisting unpredictably and terrifyingly. This was not a place where anyone would choose to linger.
>     Yet a frail looking young girl sat on one of the rocks close to the cliff-face, surrounded by a flickering circle of candlelight. She seemed a bright mirage in the twisting, shadow filled darkness that pressed in around her.
>     A superstitious man would have taken her for a mermaid or other such sea spirit: She was singing to herself and somehow the song carried out across the raging sea in spite of the wailing wind. She was pulling a small comb through her unbelievably long hair, hair so tangled that while dry it seemed to have been twisted and knotted by the sea itself. Her eyes shone brightly the colour of the ocean. But none saw her, Aella was alone.
>     The stone on which she perched was just outside the entrance to her cave, but it might have well have been a million miles away in the fierce loneliness Aella felt. She was always lonely, of course, but she had discovered years back that there were thousands of different ways to feel alone.
>     This loneliness was far apart from the subtle creeping loneliness of that beautiful silver night a few days back. That loneliness had sneaked in slowly and constantly reminded her that she was alone. This loneliness was far more harsh. This loneliness battered down at Aella with the same near unstoppable force that the weather threw about in its black mood. It shouted and shrieked and hurled itself at her with such force that her heart screamed for her to give in and weep, to cry her loneliness to the darkness. But she couldn’t do that, couldn’t give in.
>     She wanted, desperately wanted, to run inside the cave, but she couldn’t, so overwhelming was the force of her despair. Instead she just sat there, in the cold, in the darkness, and tugged out the tangles in her hair at the same time as trying to shield the candle she had brought out with her from the wind. Forcing herself to keep going even though each second hurt her and the nothingness of her existence ate mercilessly at her bruised and battered heart.
>     When the first cold cruel drops of rain started to slash down around her Aella sprang to life. Pushing aside the loneliness with painful effort she jumped to her feet, grabbed the candle, and rushed into her rock surrounded sanctuary.
>     Once inside, the wildly shivering Aella placed both comb and candle on the ‘table’ and practically threw herself into the bed. Still shaking she curled into a tight ball, fighting to hold back sobs. Outside the rain descended like a whispering curtain of water, mercilessly tugging what little she could see of the outside world away from sight.
>     It wasn’t always this bad, not every night. Even this dark night had started off bearable. Just after the sun had set she had stood on the beach in the diminishing grey light and wondered what to do. She avoided following the same pattern night after night as she felt that, should she spend her already enclosed life trapped in the same routine, she would go mad.
>     This night she had taken shelter from the cold in the comforting familiarity of her cave, and after drying herself had quickly fallen into sleep. She had not slept well though, twisting and murmuring in her slumber, floating occasionally into half wakefulness and then slipping into troubled dreams. When she did wake up it was almost a relief, but outside the wind screamed and a thick, chilling darkness had descended upon the coastline.
>     After a moments pause she had moved over to the crate by the wall and folded back the cloth that kept its contents hidden. There was very little inside. A towel lined the bottom. A seashell rested to the left. There was a notebook filled with scribbled comments and accounts of what little she did know about the reasons behind all this. A round purple pencil case held one or two other items. At the back was a small basket of food.
>     Prompted by her rumbling stomach Aella took out a small meal, though maybe tiny would be a better description – it was still quite a while till the new moon and she had to be careful with supplies. After finding a reasonably comfortable place to sit she tucked into her meagre helping.
>     Once that was done she still lingered, remaining in the cave until simple restlessness drove her out. Drove her into the dark.
>     It was a long time before she stopped shaking and started breathing evenly again. The events between now and the sun setting so many hours ago rushed around her head, growing more and more nightmarish towards the end. She was alone.
>     The shining silver key hung as always round her wrist, reflecting the candlelight. She gazed at it for a time unguessable, caught in thought of the beautiful thing, of what it meant, of how it was for that one small key’s sake that she was here now.
>     There was stillness inside the cave, a peace and hush at odds with the world outside. Aella began to feel if not happy, then content. Not with how things were but with waiting. In the stillness, waiting.
>     Sudden awareness made her jerk upright.
>     It was almost sunrise, and though the night was still black and showed no sign of the approaching dawn, Aella knew.
>     She quickly scrambled out of bed, extinguishing the candle flame as she went. The cave was immediately plunged into total darkness. But there was no time; drawing on the depths of her courage Aella threw herself out into the cold.
>     The rain drenched her in seconds, the wind threatened to drag her off her feet. Aella hurried towards the sea, slipping and stumbling. As she reached the ocean an unexpected gust knocked her to the ground. A wave rushed over her and then withdrew. Aella dragged herself to her feet, her senses all but useless, and turned to face the rolling sea.
>     For one moment the furious elements stilled. The writhing ocean seemed to calm and the winds momentarily ceased their howling. The first bright rays of sunlight reached out over the horizon. Aella felt them reach out towards her, like always.
>     The sea stirred silently, in a few moments rising up into a wave greater than any of the others before it that night. It tumbled towards Aella crashing down over her and around her.
>     When it washed back to sea there was no-one there.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬ÂIt’s not so much the fact that there is no-one else here that makes me feel so alone. Or even the fact that with one notable exception I’ve never spoken to, or even seen, another human being for years. It’s the way I know that I will still be alone tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. The emptiness of the future fills me with despair.
>     There’s still hope. I keep telling myself that, holding the words in my heart. But it’s a fight. A desperate battle again and again to keep believing, to not give in. If I lose hope I’m beaten, I can’t afford to lose. I can’t afford to cry.
>     If I give in, if I let the tears pour out, then that will be the end. This battle of endurance I’ve found myself in will be over, I will have lost. I know, I just know, that if I give in to tears I will lose the last scraps of hope I have left in me. And I can’t let myself do that.
>     No more time. The wave is over me, soon it will be all around me. The night is over, the day has come. I clutch the Key for strength.
>     As the wave touches me everything changes. My eyes close and my ears are deafened. My body is filled with coursing energy. In what is only a few seconds but feels like an eternity I cannot feel a thing.
>     I am aware only of the water all around me. Twisting, turning, the tides and waves and movement of the sea. The water no longer feels cold to me.
>     It is only a moment or so since the wave washed me from the beach but that moment is stretching out forever. My senses have not yet returned to me but in my own way I am aware. I am aware not just of the water but also of myself. I feel powerful, restless, full of energy. I am aware of the Key. It is so bright in my mind that it almost burns, more powerful than all the energy that surrounds me.
>     My normal senses return, I feel, hear, everything almost like normal.
>     I open my eyes.”
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> Aella

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> More stories by me can be found at http://www.chillwater.plus.com/rrw/rrwindex.htm">Rhiannons Stories.
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> Rhiannon Watson
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> Concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2006 reserved by Rhiannon Rose Watson. The right of Rhiannon Rose Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved.

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