Post by Kaylaneh on Nov 23, 2010 11:52:52 GMT 1
(( A long time ago that I wrote a story! Here's a short one. I tried to put some symbolism into it. Have fun finding them all. ))
A winters night breeze flowed through the upper reaches of Wintespring. The region’s wildlife was busy with preparations for the upcoming winter. Bears were digging their dens and squirrels pulled their collected nuts and berries into trees before the snow would make them impossible to recover.
In the midst of this, taking place in a small vale unknown to most travelers, three persons arose from the night’s shadows, one quite tall, the others merely infants. The tallest carried what seemed to be a wooden chest along with a shovel strapped to its back. The wildlife, which was quick to notice this shift in activity, hid in their winter dens. With a squishing sound, the chest was put onto the snow. As the tallest of the figures grabbed the shovel and started digging, the other two stood back and watched. After a few moments a hole about the size of small coffin was created.
The tallest of the figures wiped what seemed to be its forehead and kneeled down onto the ground, taking hold of the wooden chest and lowering it into the hole. The tall figure sighed and hung its head down, watching the wooden chest. This made the smaller figures walk forward and lean against the woolen robe, each putting one of their hands into the hands of the tall figure.
‘Why are you sad, mother?’ said one of the smaller figures. The vale remained quiet for a moment. The tall figure eventually broke the silence and said: ‘We are burying a person. Though not remembered fondly, it still takes time to let go.’ One of the smaller figures seemed to not agree and replied: ‘But there is only armor in the chest mother…’ As trinkets of snow started to fall in the vale, the tall figure sighed once more: ‘Though not a physical person, it is a memory of a person. I have seen and felt so much with this chest and its contents. Parting with them will not be easy, but there is no choice. I must. For you, for your brother and for your father.’
The smaller figure, content with the explanation just given, now remained quiet. The tall figure then pulled a helmet from its head. As the helmet was put onto the chest, the moonlight revealed a typical Sentinel’s helmet, complete with decorations and a purple gem in its middle. ‘Elune, guide this one to the stars and remove the contents of this hole from the world. May only memories remain in the heads of a select few. ‘ Now, all of the figures kneeled and prayed to their Goddess.
After this prayer, all three of the figures began burying the chest and the helmet. The tall figure put its back into it and frantically shoved the shovel hard into the frozen winter soil, attempting to bury everything as quickly and thoroughly as possible. The other two smaller figures also helped with pushing heaps of snow onto the dirt, creating one solid layer of frozen snow and ice. ‘Let us go home’ said the tall figure and so they left the burial.
Once the three figures had left the vale, the snow intensified and turned into a cold storm. As they quickened pace they saw a nearby tree which, judging by the holes, seemed to have inhabited by squirrels fall down. The bodies of several dead squirrels were visible. Knowing this was part of the balance, the three figures remained steadfast and returned home without delay.
A winters night breeze flowed through the upper reaches of Wintespring. The region’s wildlife was busy with preparations for the upcoming winter. Bears were digging their dens and squirrels pulled their collected nuts and berries into trees before the snow would make them impossible to recover.
In the midst of this, taking place in a small vale unknown to most travelers, three persons arose from the night’s shadows, one quite tall, the others merely infants. The tallest carried what seemed to be a wooden chest along with a shovel strapped to its back. The wildlife, which was quick to notice this shift in activity, hid in their winter dens. With a squishing sound, the chest was put onto the snow. As the tallest of the figures grabbed the shovel and started digging, the other two stood back and watched. After a few moments a hole about the size of small coffin was created.
The tallest of the figures wiped what seemed to be its forehead and kneeled down onto the ground, taking hold of the wooden chest and lowering it into the hole. The tall figure sighed and hung its head down, watching the wooden chest. This made the smaller figures walk forward and lean against the woolen robe, each putting one of their hands into the hands of the tall figure.
‘Why are you sad, mother?’ said one of the smaller figures. The vale remained quiet for a moment. The tall figure eventually broke the silence and said: ‘We are burying a person. Though not remembered fondly, it still takes time to let go.’ One of the smaller figures seemed to not agree and replied: ‘But there is only armor in the chest mother…’ As trinkets of snow started to fall in the vale, the tall figure sighed once more: ‘Though not a physical person, it is a memory of a person. I have seen and felt so much with this chest and its contents. Parting with them will not be easy, but there is no choice. I must. For you, for your brother and for your father.’
The smaller figure, content with the explanation just given, now remained quiet. The tall figure then pulled a helmet from its head. As the helmet was put onto the chest, the moonlight revealed a typical Sentinel’s helmet, complete with decorations and a purple gem in its middle. ‘Elune, guide this one to the stars and remove the contents of this hole from the world. May only memories remain in the heads of a select few. ‘ Now, all of the figures kneeled and prayed to their Goddess.
After this prayer, all three of the figures began burying the chest and the helmet. The tall figure put its back into it and frantically shoved the shovel hard into the frozen winter soil, attempting to bury everything as quickly and thoroughly as possible. The other two smaller figures also helped with pushing heaps of snow onto the dirt, creating one solid layer of frozen snow and ice. ‘Let us go home’ said the tall figure and so they left the burial.
Once the three figures had left the vale, the snow intensified and turned into a cold storm. As they quickened pace they saw a nearby tree which, judging by the holes, seemed to have inhabited by squirrels fall down. The bodies of several dead squirrels were visible. Knowing this was part of the balance, the three figures remained steadfast and returned home without delay.