A/N:
-Ping!-
Hello!
First off, I kind of go outside the general boundrries of Journey to write this story. In the game, you have no idea if your companion is male or female, from USA or the Czech republic and that's part of the game's charm. Also your only form of communication is a simple chirp and there's no real language or paremeters to tell your fellow robed figure what you want to say, so players usually wind up forming this unspoken way to communicate. But I wanted to approach this game and it's incredibly powerful storyline from a more narrative direction(which isn't to say that the game isn't already incredibly narrative.)
This'll be a fairly short but multi-chapter story, following fairly close to the game's storyline and it'll also include my interpretations for the meaning of the confluences with the ancestors/ghosts.
Enjoy! Comments and reviews are always appreciated.
-PingPing!-
The sun is bright overhead and I watch my shadow dance as the fierce winds play with my dusky red cloak. From this vantage point, I could see my village, a mere spec at the base of a steep sandy incline. The ornate buildings of our ancestors stand proud around us, empty and sacred.
With a deep breath, then a contented sigh, I jump from the stone arch at the apex of the hill and feel myself sink into the sand seconds later, only to begin gliding down as if carried by some intangible force.
Ahead of me, I see an Elder making the climb to meditate.
A shriek pierces the dry mid-day air. The sand parts at my feet as I zip down the slope, only glancing back briefly to face the Elder I had startled in my quest for excitement and entertainment glaring at me as the wind threatened to strip him of his robes.
My home, as it were, has always been fairly boring. We are a collection of nomads, moving and wandering constantly to follow the precious springs of water before they were dried up by the sun.
My fun came to an abrupt end as I slammed head-long into my father, a gestalt man decorated in the white robes of the Elder. His robes and cloak are embroidered with fine gold threads, creating a complex series of patterns and markings. As we collided, the plain stitching along the bottom hem of my robe and hood glowed briefly before fading.
He glared down at me, a large dark hand erupting from his cloak to pull back his hood. His face is emotionless but then he grins and I blush.
"Sorry, Father." I claim plainly, sheepish and only slightly apologetic.
"Not to worry Child." He says back to me. He is a healthy baritone and his face is friendly, blank yet gently illuminated white eyes regarding me fondly. He sets his hand on my head and it's only then that I realize I am so much smaller than him, barely his half. "Run along now, and be careful."
I give a nod, and a hum. A light from within shapes itself into a symbol splayed across my chest. He hums back and I soak in the light of his soul glyph.
We're all unique, he always told me. I often wonder if he's right, if each one of us is truly different. Our symbols are similar yet no other glyph in this tribe is identical to mine. Many days I find myself thinking a little too deeply about my place in this confusing world and it drives me to question our reason for existing. We're just a simple people, struggling to survive amongst the ever-shifting desert.
There's only one thing that seems to be constant and the meaning to it has eluded us for longer than my father's father's father can remember, according to the Elders; the steep black peak of rock against the otherwise almost-cloudless sky.
I had wandered through the village, finding another stone arch amongst the glittering sands along the outskirts of our little slice of life. I take a moment to ponder our little red tents, edges hemmed gold and waving gently as the desert's breeze played with them.
With a great leap, I come to rest atop the arch, legs folded as I sigh. The sun has started to set, bathing the land in a brilliant fiery orange.
Far out beyond the dunes and ruins lies the dark mountain. Its peak is splintered in two and a vast pillar of light reaches from the top, high into the heavens where fine points of light begin to appear. It's the only thing that has remained the same while the rest of the world seems to change endlessly.
As I watch the mountain, its shape and looming presence never changes yet something within me churns.
Even as a young nomad, I had always felt.. out of place. And every time I basked in the pure light of that peek, I felt a longing desire to be there, almost like..
Like..
Like I was born for something great.
I hear a loud but deep call, and I return with a high yet clear chirp of my own. Several feet below me, my father stood amidst the sand between the pillars of shadow cast by the arch.
"Come down, Child. I have something to show you." He said over the dull rumble of the wind. I nod, stand, then leap and almost drift to the ground.
I followed him quietly, struggling to keep pace with his great strides as he guided me out into the desert. It had been so long, that the richness of the evening's sunset bled into deep blues and purples and eventually a cold blackness. Only the stars and small moon lit our path.
I recoil in on myself, calling forth the light within for warmth. Ahead, I can see the dark shape of a tall crumbling building. Lanterns bath the evening in a comforting light and as we approached, I felt the coolness of the desert being chased away.
He led me inside and down a cracked flight of stairs. The narrow hallway opened up into a vast chamber, and I could scarcely see the ceiling high above us.
In the center of the room sat a statue and I realized with curiosity that its shape seemed vaguely familiar to me despite the fact that I had never laid eyes upon this place before. Perhaps it had been from my dreams.
For as long as I could remember, I had always had vivid dreams of the most amazing travels. I could fly, blessed by a brilliant power of a beautifully flowing scarf. I had faced down giant stone creatures and seen many wonders.
Each time though, I found myself standing at the peak of the mountain, staring into the light pouring down from the heavens, watching into it only to wake up and find myself amongst my family in our quiet little tent.
I hear a hum, "Come child." My father says and his voice echoes inside these hallowed walls. "Join me in song."
I close my eyes and let the light within rise up and out as a beautiful harmonic cry, mirrored by my father's beautiful and deep voice.
As I opened my eyes, I gawked at the sight before me. The statue's eyes lit and a globe of white expanded. Suddenly symbols etched into the stone tiles at my feet became filled with light. More lit as the energy spread until the entire chamber glowed, chasing away the darkness.
The wall before me, which had previously been bare and void of any identifying markings, was now glowing as specs of light formed an image.
The mountain's silhouette stood out amongst the images of rolling sand dunes. A spear of light erupted from its point and the sky filled with stars and symbols. I stared briefly at them, they were the symbols of our people.
The stars fell to the ground and life formed. All around me the beautiful songs of winged animals filled the air and I noticed my Father was grinning, likely at my expression of complete amazement and bewilderment.
More stars fell and the shapes of our ancestors appeared, blessed with flowing white robes. Amongst them, shapes of red strips of fabric formed, outlined by a brilliant light.
My father pointed to the mountain.
"The time has come for you to learn of your purpose, to understand your place in this world." He said.
I was silent and as I stared at that drawing, I felt that pang of belonging again. He must've seen it in my eyes.
"You did not come to us the way most children do." His words were simple but I felt the profound depth within them. "You came to us in the midst of a shower of stars."
I was silent still, my interest focused entirely on him.
"It was an evening, much like this one... I was amidst the dunes, collecting rare flowers that glow amongst the ruins for your mother. The mountain's light had been otherwise the same as it had always been, when I was suddenly blinded momentarily by a great flash. A pulse rose into the sky and the stars began to fall."
I peered at the wall, then back at him.
"One drifted down behind a close but high dune and I ran quickly to witness its landing."
I felt my heart race. My mind departed only briefly as I recalled the bright light of the mountain within my dreams.
"When the light had finally faded, only you remained- a tiny child wrapped amongst rich red robes. I took you into my arms and made my way back to the village."
"But Father-" I said.
"Yes, Child?"
"Our Ancestors.. What about them..." I stepped up to the wall, passed the statue. With a hand, I traced the outlines of the white robed shapes.
"No one knows. But the mountain gave you to us.. Perhaps it is your destiny to find the answers that have been lost with time."
I breathed in deeply, eyes once again drawn to the mountain.
"...I was born for this.." I muttered.
When I turned back around, I met my father's intense gaze and felt an uneasiness wash over me. Silently he nodded and with a stiff swallow, I followed him out of the temple. As he left, the brilliant light that filled the symbols faded, leaving the interior bathed once again in a choking darkness.
We returned to our village.
That night I dream't of the mountain, of flying and of the ancestors.
When the morning brought with it the sun's rays, I set out. Goodbyes had been short and simple, and after hugging my Mother and Father, I disappeared into the oncoming sand storm.
A/N: Thanks for reading, hope you come back for more when I update!