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The earth seemed to tremble as the giant approached, each step making the earth tremble, quiver, until his words come dark and unloving. I resist the urge to cry, to fly and run, quell it, for I know I will get nowhere. I will not be chasing storms anytime soon, I know, except in the black world where the Reaper walks and the fallen soldiers come, where the old stallions rest and the older mares tell stories; where young ones swept away from mothers and fathers laugh and play, where games are created and where life is dark and light at the same time. This I know.
I watch the behemoth come, feel those platter-size hooves come to crush my throat, and then I see him rearing, head brushing the sky, and I see no more. For a sliver of a sliver of a split millisecond, there is pain beyond belief, pain that liquefies bones and sends blood boiling and chilling at the same time, but then it is gone in a gentle exhale, replaced by a- a something, a sensation very different. I am rising, truly a ghost, pale and waspish, floating away. There is no tunnel with white light- instead I stand under the trees black, studying the mortal body that restricted me. Now, I am not weighed down with constant defeat, my mind not thick with worries. I am free of burdens, free to seek my stallion, my Khan again.
So I turn, and spread wings that engulf the night sky, and then I take off, body a faint shimmering light, and I am among the stars, beating my way up, winging higher and higher, and yet higher, until I am suspended in peace and quiet, and then I feel Her warm breath on my cheek, see Her coming to me, and she embraces me with wings larger than anything, with eyes terrible and loving at the same time.
Before I truly slip away from this world, until the world where nothing lives and yet everything does, I feel Khan’s kiss on my cheek and his warm feathers tracing my body, and I am truly in the void.
SVETLANA
the StormChaser
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