The Wind Blew

The wind returned. Growing stronger and bolder, the shadows began to dance, entwining themselves in the back and forth of the darkness in Eski’s eyes, the movements stretching to rip further strands of shadow from the edges of his consciousness, pulling them in to join the ecstasy; pulling him in to join the ecstacy.

Eski did not enter as the shadows did, he was far to experienced for timidity. Throwing himself like a drunk side to side, Eski pierced with talons of steel the solemn cloth on either side, an inadequate shield to slow the storm. He boiled about in the sea of people, leaving corpses of salt behind. Red strewn about, mingling with inadequate hosts that had once held it captive.

Please.

A single voice; a plea, joining the dance. Not a plea for mercy, a lie long forgotten, but for life. A simple song for life.

Please, more.

Joining the dance; the wind; the waves, the melody became a harmony; a single song now carried by two voices joined. Eski fell into step with the voices, the dancers, the Song. The sea of bodies pressed against him, straining to break him. Twisting about, Eski mirrored the shadows in his eyes, letting the wind blow him as it would. No longer utilizing talons of steel, he swept through the sea amid a boat of desecration, breaking down the walls of flesh and folly, and letting free the life inside.

Please. Please. More. Please.

And Eski gave them more. He gave them all. He gave until there was nothing left to give. Nothing but a single figure, standing tall amidst the remains of captivity. And Eski stopped.

And the wind blew.

The wind blew and raged and fought. The shadows danced. The voices sang. But they went unheard. The dancers unseen. The wind unfelt. And Eski waited. The eye of the hurricane, and he just watched the single figure. The figure watched him, motionless. Oblivious to the storm around. Like a leaf, the last one still on the tree at winter, the figure turned, and took in the world around him. A winter of red. Blood on snow. Blood on ice. Blood on steel.

Please. More. Just one more.

And the wind blew.

The figure did not see the blade; a talon of steel. He did not see the shadows in Eski’s eyes. He did not hear the song. He did not feel the wind. The soft wind in his chest, releasing the life captive inside. Letting the life come forth into the shadow, reflected in Eski’s eyes; Eski’s darkened eyes.

Thank You

Eski was done. The ocean was gone; the leaf had fallen; the winter had come. And the shadows came forth, like paint spilled in water, they gained color; they gained life.

And the blood on the snow disappeared.

Thank You.

And the shadows faded, now red, brimming with life; hopes; dreams.

Thank You.

And the last shadow disappeared.

And the wind did not blow.