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12-25-2014, 08:55 PM
Every heart is much the same, we tell ourselves down here;
The same chambers fed by veins, the same maze of love and fear.
Birdsong nursed Kipling back to health on the outskirts of the Hidden Falls. His ailments were nothing for a healer to fix; his body just needed time to mend. And time was a most abundant resource. The unwell body could consume a surprising amount of energy in its efforts to right itself. Even though all the youngster seemed to do was eat and sleep and occasionally wander off through the woods, a drowsy haze stubbornly followed him. Kipling had told Essetia he planned to study philosophy – and he still wanted to, really! – but he was just so tired. Most days, even the idea of tracking down his mentor exhausted him. Today was not like most days. The tired fog had begun to lift for brief windows over the past week, and the periods of alertness were growing noticeably longer. Kipling could once again follow his rapidfire stream of consciousness thoughts. He was starting to have ideas again – ideas that didn’t seem like absolute stupidity a few moments later. It’s wrong not to share each and every one of my brilliant insights with the herd. Kipling wasn’t sure where to find his mentor – he had not even learned their name, and he didn’t know who to ask. He was simply too impatient to wait any longer for them to reveal themselves to him on their own. And that was how Kipling found himself standing in the precise center of the Falls meadow at high noon on a pleasantly cloudy day, proclaiming in the most booming and authoritative tone he could muster, “Okay! Everyone! I would like to summon a philosopher!” If he knew how silly he looked, he didn’t show any outward signs of embarrassment. He smiled to no one in particular and waited patiently with head held high. He had all the time in the world. |
Don't you leave us in the dark!
@[Dröm]
