Notes: Well, I got more, what do you know. This is written more as a second scene then a second chapter but I got request to extend this. There still is no full story with this but my brain has come up with something to go on and we'll just have to wait and see about the rest. This chapter varies from the last in that it took longer to write and while the previous was written in a train station in England (where I was very cold) this one was written mostly after I had just returned from the beach in the USA (where's it's much warmer).
Disclaimer: Same as previous.
Small Wind Ch. 2 MorningThe morning fog slightly stirred in the breeze, hanging in the air as a thick reminder of the night's storm. It moved slowly over the hill covering the top and the dark motionless heap lying on the very tip.
A dim light appeared on the horizon announcing the coming dawn. The increasing light began to chase away the fog. Though it obstinately fought, clinging to the ground, the sun rose and relentlessly pushed the grounded cloud away. A breeze, warmed by the rising sun, winds its way around, over, and past the hill into the trees taking with it the last of the fog.
With the warmth came the sounds of life; birds, bugs, and strange magical creatures; lives undisturbed by the crumpled figure on the hill. Birds, flying overhead, took no notice, but a single owl, soaring silently, spots the heap and angles to descend. Its huge eyes fixed on the form as it prepared to land. The bird lands gently next to its query. Hooting softly, the brown feathers ruffle as the bird hops about moving closer to the dark mess. Rounding on the pale white face the owl gave a loud hoot. It gently pushed its beck against his head; there was a slight low moan but no movement. The bird hopped back, partially spreading its wings. It gave a gentle, almost comforting hoot, as a farewell and took back to the air beating its great wings a few times to gain altitude before settling into a glide directed back at the direction it had come.
The sun continued its climb, its rays steadily persisting in their attempt to dry the land and to erase the signs left by the rain.
Then, a man appeared on the side of the hill. There was no warning, no flash of light or sudden noise, merely one moment the grass was gently swaying freely in the breeze and the next moment found a man upon it. The man's very presence demanded respect and admiration. He remained still no more than a second before turning to look up the hill. The sun's light glistened off his long white beard but was shielded from his face by his brimmed pointed hat. Though he was old, an alertness and great energy shone on his face and from his bright eyes.
He began his assent up the hill quickly, his long robes flowing around him not from the light breeze but from the swiftness of his movement. He did not pause when he reached the top of the hill but with one fluid movement he went down on his knees. Taking no notice of the mud streaking his deep purple robes, he cradled the smeared and battered head of the younger man gently with his wrinkled hands and laid it in his lap.
The blood had ceased to flow but that which had escaped earlier, having mingled with mud and dead vegetation, now added its stain to the old man's robes. A quick intake of breath rasped from the pale, scarred throat. There was a slight movement under the eyelids but they remained closed.
Such sadness showed in the old man's face that the age reflected there became much closer to the actual time spent living according to the rest of his appearances. Taking a corner of his robes he began to wipe away some of the muck from the ashen face causing the dark robes to rustle as the form beneath twitched from the pain, the old man stopped. A tear formed in each eye and slowly fell down his cheek into his beard.
He dropped the cloth edge and pulled out a long slender piece of wood. One moment the two were atop the hill, the old man's wand raised high, and the next they were gone, the only sign remaining of their stay was the flattened spot of grass.
The sun worked to reach its peak as the wind picked up carrying clouds back into the sky and smoothing the hilltop where the teacher and the headmaster had been.
So, what do you think? I'm actually going to ask for reviews this time. If you want more say so if not, well, don't worry I don't mind. :¬)