Status: Active!
Blackwater Park.
Chosen.
He wakes.
What used to be an infernal disaster, Wind has actually made into something much more tolerable…
Steam still drifted up however, rendering the place back into its humid state. The land didn’t have any of its extremities like when he had first arrived, but Wind gasped in a puff of air, marveling at what he had done:
What splendor! If this was Earth, Wind would have never thought that his anger could actually bring about beauty, instead of purely destroying it…maybe this was all still a dream? If immortals could have dreams, although. If so, he was sure to make the most of this one.
All the hideous gulches that made waste to the magma, had closed up, forcibly shut under his might. It did not rain fire anymore, but his tears of fury had bonded with the black soot, the result being a glistening mixture of light, sparkling-grey drizzle. The ground’s dreary crimson paint had vanished altogether, leaving a beauteous obsidian shell in place of the cracked ground, smothering the earth like human icing. Obsidian swirled in dark violet streams, and cooled very quickly, some forming brilliant majestic monuments of rock, that took curvy and wavy shapes in character. Mainly, Wind could not believe that he done such things…
The question is: Why had the shadows asked him to do this?
A whooshing sound surrounded Wind once again, and he tried to stop himself from making the noises, he had gotten too excited. But no, it was not him this time; the Shadows approached again, along with the vast numbers he had encountered with the experience on the lake. A sense of fear began to envelop Wind once again, as they scurried through an invisible glimpse of the sky above.
They slowed down a little, drifting down to his positon. Surprisingly, they did not seem to mean much harm this time. A larger, more jagged and blurry moving one rose from beneath the dark mass, and made contact with Wind, touching him like silky velvet.
You have calmed them…We are indeed, grateful. But…you are not done. This is the first step in your journey.
Wind wondered whether he should respond, and the silence was becoming uncomfortable to bear, so he conversed with it, speaking in the same waft dialect.
First step? Why do you require me?
You are the Chosen. Only the Chosen can brave the dangers of Blackwater Park, and it has been made known in the Prophecy.
Definitely a dream. Wind still negotiated, however.
Prophecy…so if I am indeed this Chosen, why am I chosen for this?
…We have witnessed your acts of supremacy. The heart is serene now, and she has been in a furious state for billions of years. She is calm, but only because of your aid. You, are the only one.
The only what, may I ask?
The only one, who can brave the Darkness.
As if to simultaneously agree, the Shadows all riled up in a whew of concurrent, and they began to draw close, bulging in together in a mass of black behind the largest one.
Come. There is no time to waste.
What used to be an infernal disaster, Wind has actually made into something much more tolerable…
Steam still drifted up however, rendering the place back into its humid state. The land didn’t have any of its extremities like when he had first arrived, but Wind gasped in a puff of air, marveling at what he had done:
What splendor! If this was Earth, Wind would have never thought that his anger could actually bring about beauty, instead of purely destroying it…maybe this was all still a dream? If immortals could have dreams, although. If so, he was sure to make the most of this one.
All the hideous gulches that made waste to the magma, had closed up, forcibly shut under his might. It did not rain fire anymore, but his tears of fury had bonded with the black soot, the result being a glistening mixture of light, sparkling-grey drizzle. The ground’s dreary crimson paint had vanished altogether, leaving a beauteous obsidian shell in place of the cracked ground, smothering the earth like human icing. Obsidian swirled in dark violet streams, and cooled very quickly, some forming brilliant majestic monuments of rock, that took curvy and wavy shapes in character. Mainly, Wind could not believe that he done such things…
The question is: Why had the shadows asked him to do this?
A whooshing sound surrounded Wind once again, and he tried to stop himself from making the noises, he had gotten too excited. But no, it was not him this time; the Shadows approached again, along with the vast numbers he had encountered with the experience on the lake. A sense of fear began to envelop Wind once again, as they scurried through an invisible glimpse of the sky above.
They slowed down a little, drifting down to his positon. Surprisingly, they did not seem to mean much harm this time. A larger, more jagged and blurry moving one rose from beneath the dark mass, and made contact with Wind, touching him like silky velvet.
You have calmed them…We are indeed, grateful. But…you are not done. This is the first step in your journey.
Wind wondered whether he should respond, and the silence was becoming uncomfortable to bear, so he conversed with it, speaking in the same waft dialect.
First step? Why do you require me?
You are the Chosen. Only the Chosen can brave the dangers of Blackwater Park, and it has been made known in the Prophecy.
Definitely a dream. Wind still negotiated, however.
Prophecy…so if I am indeed this Chosen, why am I chosen for this?
…We have witnessed your acts of supremacy. The heart is serene now, and she has been in a furious state for billions of years. She is calm, but only because of your aid. You, are the only one.
The only what, may I ask?
The only one, who can brave the Darkness.
As if to simultaneously agree, the Shadows all riled up in a whew of concurrent, and they began to draw close, bulging in together in a mass of black behind the largest one.
Come. There is no time to waste.