This tapestry is one I have studied many times, thinking about it deeply. Come, let us see this conversation...


#012 Water

A Chink in the Armor of the World

"Waters. They fascinate me so much that I cannot even describe what I feel about it. The way they deny and defy boundaries, ever carving out paths for themselves, yet stay within their settled bounds at the same time." Ecthelion was saying passionately.

"They are a breach in the walls of the world, the chink in the armor of the earth. They make me want to believe that there is a chink in the armor of fate somewhere, waiting, biding their time to rush through and eke out a new fate, another destiny. That is what I wanted to be. I wanted to learn how to be small and yet impact many for the better." He finished wistfully, and Ulmo nodded gravely.

"Indeed it is so. A chink." He agreed quietly, his voice detached and wispy. "In the armor of the world- a breach within the earth- a flood of ideas and thoughts that make way to forge the future..." He murmured, and a flute lifted to Ecthelion's lips.

And then the sound of the flute, clear and sharp, cut through the air like a delicate blade, whirling gracefully in a smooth, pointed dance. It started out with vibrating notes that rippled and almost caused Ulmo to believe that the air would move to make room for the powerfully small drops of sound.

Then the tone hardened, and became flat, rising and dipping but remaining monotone in rhythm, reminding them of the unyielding earth with its hills and valleys, ridges and drops. They climbed a mountain on the footprints of the rising notes, reaching the summit of the hill in a high note of triumph- then plunged over a cliff as the tune suddenly tumbled down in staccato and mangled, slurred notes, their bones bouncing and jarring as the notes erratically went lower.

Until they hit the bottom. The flute gasped for breath, jerkily inhaling with breathy notes. Ecthelion's fingers moved over the keys, pressing methodically and making Ulmo watch him, hypnotized and drawn into the spell that he weaved around them and clogged the air, packing them so tightly into place that they were forced to stand still and listen.

Then a wall rose before them, starting low and near the ground before rising in sharps and flats up as their minds scaled the wall, smooth and impenetrable. Then the notes began to search against the wall with probing, demanding fingers, poking sharply. When nothing gave, the fingers melted into liquid, pooling in the air and swirling in patterns that went around and around in captivating circles of sound.

Then the water began to move across the base of the wall, seeking, melting against the barrier, caressing the smooth wall. Then it suddenly plunged. It broke through, and the flute burst into a roar of sound, rising and falling in chaotic waves, shoving through the one crack and widening it. The flute gave a note that sounded like a sharp crack, and then the tune splintered.

It burst into disjointed yet harmonic sounds, little snatches of unrelated tunes that somehow melded into a jumbled mass that still sounded like music. The wall crumbled as the water won, carving a new path for itself like a raging Mûkmail, yet calming as it came down from the adrenaline of its frenzied push.

The tune bubbled down into a gurgling, shaking, trembling mass of harmonized notes, and then morphed into a little creek that frothed merrily, a gay and light tune that reminded them of little fireflies dancing and flashing in the night. Then it turned into a dreamy melody, full of hints of ideas, of creativity- and of inspiration.

It dreamed, presenting its store of thoughts to them in rapid succession as the notes flew by, Ecthelion's fingers running over the flute in an easy yet quick pattern. Then it began to accumulate, piling up until the notes began to crowd each other, shoving and pushing to make way against the rapidly lessening space of the room that suddenly seemed small and confined in their ears.

Until it exploded. It burst into a song of triumph, just as the water had, the notes dancing in maniacal glee and laughing as they stampeded out the window in a rush, escaping the boundaries of the room like ideas flowing from the mind. It became fainter and fainter, the noises of the laughter and trampling feet dying away into nothing. The flute gave one last breath of mingled relief and satisfaction, and silence settled.

"Exactly." Ulmo said in satisfaction, and Ecthelion nodded in reply.


Well, I did take this from one of my other stories and modified it, but I liked it so much that I couldn't help myself. XP this one shot was 760 words.