Friday, February 3, 2012

Elemental - Prologue

The trees swayed gently in the summer’s breeze, dancing lazily in the soft sunlight. The sweet smell of honey and oak wafted through the forest and into the small town of Eyo, warming the town lovingly. The woods stood around the small village, protecting it from all the outside and forming canopies over the trails to protect from snow and rain. It was these great ancient oaks that stood against the storm fast approaching from the East. It was there the great winds of the Lesser brewed within the mountains, and bubbling in its immense heat, boiled over and into the valleys below; running like the many rivers down the hills and across the plains. It was this wind that scorched the land, charring everything black in invisible flames.
But the Greater, in His almighty armor of Earth; stronger than any metal and indestructible to any force, wielding His unparalleled sword of Fire; unstoppable by any weapon, His majestic helm formed of the purest of Water; granting wisdom and fluidity of any movement, and with His shield spun from the wildest of Wind; deflected every attack without any force, cast down the Lesser and exiled him to the Outlands, never to return.
And with this triumph, came the victory of man against the spirits, and they became one in the same. It is through this, young ones, that many of you are capable of manipulating the forces of nature. Each one of you, according to your soul and very being, may receive a piece of the according element to protect you.
Now you know the story of the Greater’s triumph over the Lesser, and how you came to possess such abilities. It is He we have to thank for saving our race from the wrath, a once simple man, given the very same abilities we have now, saved everyone of us very, very long ago. You all have such potential, but it is up to you, young ones, to decide for yourself, your fate and your future.
And how it will change all of ours.
The story ended then and was followed by silence as the story teller, Rumm, stood and poured a gourd of water into the fire, and with his grasp of the element, painted a thriving portrait of a man in armor with incredible detail out of the steam. The quivering picture throbbed and swirled like smoke, spinning and coiling but keeping perfect clarity as the man stood and raised his sword in the air, followed by a loud pop as the steam exploded into a countryside of cheering people.
Rumm, having told his tale to the end, dropped his hands to his sides, palms up, and the image faded into a rippling steam once again.

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