Halls of Crumbling Stone Egg
The drab, dusty colors of limestone and dirt might have camouflaged this egg if it were laid against the pale sandy colors of other hatching grounds. Instead, it stands out against the reddened sands of Xanadu, tall vertical lines like great spires cast in the shadows of tan and umber. Great swirling visages that seem almost human march around the rounded top of the egg, as if they told some legend, some epic tale of long forgotten times. Darker sepia plays in ghost-like impressions of cracks, crevices, broken pieces where time has worn down once great beauty. All that remains is empty halls left in ruin, as if they were waiting. Waiting for someone to listen, to dream, and to bring life once more to long forgotten stories.
Song of the Ancient Hero unfolds like parchment spread across a work table. Dim candle-light flickers, casting shadows across surface giving a feeling of movement. On this blank canvas, there is life! This is only just the beginning - the start of a legend. No. An EPIC. The silhouettes seem to take the shapes of places - mountains, seas, forests. There is adventure there for those who seek it. The lure of these far off lands is almost entrancing in the play of light and darkness. Here is where your road will lead if you are brave enough to take the first step. In your ear, there is a roar of a distant crowd and the clashing of metal on metal. Adoration, adulation, glory. All of this, yours for the taking! The temptation seems to call to you, summoning the best parts of you to the surface. There were no others like you before, and there never will be. You alone can be the one to grasp this in your hands, but this is not a path for the weak, or mild. It takes courage, strength, will. Are you ready?
Song of the Ancient Hero comes like a sudden gust of wind and then disappears! No… wait. It is only the light that has been extinguished, leaving the pages glowing faintly in the moonlight. Every story has dark times, and so many triumphs come at great cost. There is a tugging at the corner of your heart, as if something were searching there. Then, like some gruesome thing plucked strait out of your worst nightmare, a dark shape appears - blocking out the light and casting its grizzled visage on the page. Drops of moisture drip down from above as hot breath wafts in your face. Cries reach your ears from somewhere far off, too familiar to be mistaken. Family, friends, loved ones, calling out for your help. What will you do? How far will you travel and what would you risk? Can you save them? Can you set aside your own fears, or lay down your own life for their sake? The monster cackles in the darkness, doubting your resolve.
Song of the Ancient Hero lingers in the shadows for a moment longer, waiting for you. Then, as you return, the candle sparks to life once more, bringing light and hope back into the dark places of this world. There is a sound nearby, like something being knocked over, as splotches of black seem to form over the scroll laid out before you. Childish, almost innocent lines start to form on the page, as if someone very young were trying their hand at script. There are no words at first, simply a haphazard mash of lines. As you sit back, though, they seem to take on a life of their own - a face - /your/ face. A welcome feeling flows into your chest, as if the writer were glad that you finally had come to understand. You - you who are brave and strong and smart. The page turns, revealing that empty, blank slate once more, slowly giving way to the sands around you. Yet even here, there is a ghostly feeling of a quill in your hand and a whisper of promise. 'This is your story. How will you write it?'
Halls of Crumbling Stone Egg begins a strange little shimmy in the sand, rocking back and forth. The movement comes so quickly that it knocks the egg from the pile with the others, causing it to roll a bit downhill before coming to an abrupt stop with a resounding CRACK. Pieces of shell go flying everywhere, almost as if a tiny explosion had brought the little creature finally into this world.
A brilliant shade of emerald coats her squat body as daintier legs wobble underneath the hatchling green's weight. Her pointed, pear toned nose glances down at those legs for a moment, as if curious as to why they aren't quite working right. Her mouth opens, looking up at her parents but it isn't a creel that comes out. Instead, there is a strange sounding burp, followed by a shake of her head as she blows egg-goo out of her nose. Thumping her small tail down onto the sand, the green flutters darker, almost myrtle wings, trying to find her balance.
Then, the row of white seems to catch her attention. With a tilt of her angular head, she gives another of those odd sounding creels and then begins wobbling forward on those too-short legs. Her eyes narrow with determination as she scans along the row of candidates before settling on a young former guard with unkempt hair and a huge nose. "Oh." Kurtis (now K'tis) looks down, blinking in surprise before breaking into a huge grin. "Of course, Prinyth, we'll write a great story together. We might even save the world!" This candidate has huge aspirations to go with his big nose, apparently. "But let's eat first, okay?" With that, the newly bonded pair are lead off the sands, Prinyth still wobbling unsteadily and giving weak flappings of her wings.
|Hatched||June 05, 2011|