The Father

[Kvasir 1121]

Spoiler

 

 

    Jharak set off after about an hour of preparing for his journey out into the forests. He had packed only a few things with him for this short journey. He had not said much to anybody before he left, the little boy hoping to savor the silence and once again see what he witnessed the other day, life. Though now, his purpose was different, he searched for something subtle and hidden. After an hour of walking, the boy had reached the farthest edge of the road. Forests already surrounded him, but now he walked off the beaten path into the calling tides of green.

 

    He made his way deeper into the verdant forest, occasionally marking the path he took with twigs and stones. After an hour or so, he finally reached the most inner part of the wood. The boy began to survey the area he had finally stopped at, huffing in approval. As he did so, he set down his knapsack, taking out some food and a canteen of water he had brought from the city. After nearly an hour, the small boy had finally set up his sloppy psuedo-bivouac for the night, a soft satisfied sigh coming from him.

 

    The boy set out into the twilight lit wood as the sun began to fall. He moved through the dirt on his hands and knees, letting himself be completely surrounded by nature and earth. As he progressed through the darkening forest he began to pick up and clutch things in his hands, before eventually going back to his camp. The boy then painstakingly took to creating his fire, his eyes constantly upon the stick weathering away at the stone as he began to create sparks. Quickly he let go of his stick and stone, guiding the stone into some dry leaves, moving it over to a stack of low hanging branches he had torn off crudely. The fire then began to rise, the boy muttering, “Earth”, as the flames caught.

 

    Jharak stared into the fire, as he began to intently scan the licking flames. He brought up his hand, with something clutched tightly in his palm. As he began to downturn his hand, he released his palm letting go of what he was holding. As he did this, dirt, flowers, and a crushed insect fell into the flames. The boy’s gaze trailed to the fire, watching the objects he had dropped in react with the hungry flames. His attention slowly turned to the smoke emanating the fire. Under the boy’s breath, he murmured in a pleased voice. “Air from fire.” The boy began to rise, looking around the small hovel he had set up for himself, a soft smile on his face. His gaze was drawn to the foliage. He began to see, and death was all around him.

 

[Zacho 2177]

((Well written, good as usual.

[Burnsy 437]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

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