...to keeping my head in the clouds

A place for me to express myself through muses and images.

For Magic to Survive...

(my second installment of the story, enjoy)
           “Bailyn, fetch the riffle for me.”
           “What is it father?” Bailyn asked, trying to see around his father’s broad shoulders.
“A thief in the garden. Quick now!”
“Jon,” the woman said.
“Bailyn follow me around back, you...”
“...grab her on my mark,” he said taking the long barreled shot gun from Bailyn.”
Bailyn nodded the thrill of the hunt in his eyes.
“What is it woman?”
“The garden is in the back of the house, Jon,” she said, putting her arm around her daughter, identical smiles revealing their amusement.
“Oh right, but then...” he stood there, unsure of what to do. Grunting he motioned for his son to follow.
Moonlight illuminated the small frame of a girl, hair swirled around her in a wind only she felt.
“Father this isn’t right. Listen.”
Jon understood he rubbed his ears: it felt like they needed to pop. “Here take the gun.” The closer they crept the greater the pressure in their ears became.
John grabbed the girl from behind, pinning her arms to her sides, and yanked. Bailyn circled around her; the gun limp in his hand threatened only the Earth.
“Boy, the gun!”
“I think she’s dead.”

For Magic to Survive She Must Sacrifice

The air was hot and dense; it pushed against her, breathing was laborious. Her hair hung limp down her back, usually, it swirled around her but not this night. Eve stood in the perpetual darkness with only a tattered dress, which used to brush the ground, but now stopped just below her knees, showing her bare feet. The noise of the woods and trees beat painfully in her ears.

There was a light on in the shack, illuminating the family within. They sat at a round table (playing a game) laughing. Just a moment ago, the boy had lifted up the youngest girl in his arms and spun her around. He looked to be about the same age as Eve: on the cusp of being an adult. The girl, shock red hair curled around her cherub face, rosy cheeks with dimples, eyes the color of ice, a perfect miniature to the mother.

It’s the glow of magic that surrounds the girl that makes her unique; no doubt it once enveloped the mother but not a trace could be seen any longer. Eve wondered if they knew that magic touched them. They would know soon.

The ground vibrated the energy, alerting The Destroyers. It was Eve’s job to avert them, so she set to it. Placing her one hand on the outside wall of the house, the other she dug into the soft soil. Pushing stones out of the way, using her nails to claw deeper down until she planted her arm (up to her elbow).

Tego texi tectum

Tego texi tectum

 She chanted, closing her eyes, she put all her energy into the concealment spell. The air warmed and lifted to her words, the fearful creatures of the woods became silent: Death could not find them.