The HourGlass Revamp Excerpt

Posted: July 18, 2013 in Beginning, Excerpt, New Perspective, Writing
Tags: , , , , ,

As an apology to you all for my lack of attention to this blog and the fanpage, I have decided to give you all a preview of the work I have done on the Hourglass. It isn’t much, but, it’s something that I hope you all will enjoy!  

Warmest regards,

Trisha Ellen

The Past Trilogy, of the Past, Present and Future saga.

Book One: The Hourglass

By: Trisha Ellen

Chapter one

My life has been vast in many ways, ways that most who would read this document couldn’t truthfully understand no matter how many words I use. In this vast life I have but one first memory, and over the course of uncountable years no matter how many different people I speak to about this memory, it appears that even that is different then the standard.

I remember being safe, secure against some horrible fate. If I focus on this sensation, I am almost able to pick up the vibrations of sounds, like someone is talking to me– yet the words are always drowned out. I can smell the wild flowers of my homeland, one that I am doomed to never lay eyes on again. If I am very, very lucky, I can almost see the face of my elder brother so much younger then I know him in any of my other memories, watching me with a fearful expression in his silver eyes.

I don’t try to delve further into that memory and I have never questioned Raziel about this memory. I know from personal experience that remembering the land of our birth is quite hard, and often leaves those of our kind in a state of longing. A longing that leaves us utterly useless. For beings of our creation, this is not something that should ever be done.

I will only be doing so consciously this one last time; for I promised someone very close to me that I would put to record my life so that no one would ever make the same mistakes as we did again.

A great many years must have passed before I was aware enough to cement further moments into my memory. My next memory is both a pleasant memory for me, and the first time I became acutely aware that I was different from the rest of my kind.

I was dancing across the valley of souls, a flock of souls where following my progress across the flowers of their home. These flowers are not at all like the flowers of the mortal realm, these flowers were constructed out of the very universe and the closest substance that I have come across outside of Edan that could compare were prisms. Thousands upon thousands of flowers constructed from feather light prisms, flexible just like the flora and fauna in the mortal realms, soft to touch, and the smell indescribable.

To each Edanite, what we call ourselves in Edan, the look of a soul is different. For me, the souls were multicoloured butterflies each completely different and unique from one another. They were warm like a fire, yet cool to the touch. Unlike butterflies in the realms of mortal life, the souls laughed and sang songs like children everywhere. I remember spinning and spinning along with the souls, singing along to their songs. I remember Raziel watching me from the top of a hill waving ever so slightly as I called up to him.

Alas as the phrase goes, all good things must come to an end and that day they did. This was the first time I can recall being frightened. Fear was not something we learned in Edan, at least not often, and seldom from our own protectors. Many names have been given to them by many people, the most common I have heard uttered was archangel and so we shall call them.

Laughter and songs ceased as I looked up at my brother, his waving stopped as he stretched his pure white wings wide and swooped down into the soul valley. A hand dropped down on my shoulder and I felt a jolt of energy, raw power, much like being struck by lightning– in that single touch. I cannot recall if I cried out or not, but I would not be surprised to find I had. I turned to look into the coldest blue eyes I have ever laid my gaze upon. The Archangel Michael stood behind me watching me with an intent look to his features; one I couldn’t put a name to at the time, but can only now call bottled fury.

“She is not to be harmed, smite me if you will, but she is under the protection of the three mothers. You know this well captain.”

Raziel landed at my side, and I scurried behind his legs. I remember pressing my face to the back of his thigh so tightly I thought I would push out the other side. I peeked out from around his leg, looking up at the six winged angel. His wings where so large I thought he could block out the very sky of creation! His hair looked like spun strands of the sun, so bright it hurt to look at for too long.

“And no harm will come to her Raziel. So long as you love her she cannot be touched, and nothing can break that law. I was merely trying to figure out how this little abomination could garner your affection in the smallest degree. You are after all a soldier of Edan.”

His voice was so melodious, like the singing of a thousand songbirds all perfectly in tune. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and I can only wonder if that was part of my fear of him. I’ll never know.

“It is because I am a soldier of Edan that I can love her captain. That is something I fear you will never understand.”

“Perhaps, I was not created for love; I was created to protect this paradise. Keep her from the fields of souls Raziel, we cannot afford for her to rub off on them.”

Oh the bravery of youth, one does not step up to an arch angel, and declare you will not listen to their words, for their words are law second only to God’enra. Yet that was exactly what I did. I stepped around Raziel, my beloved brother, and looked up at this all powerful being.

“That is not fair! We play and dance together, and everyone is supposed to come to the valley! I didn’t do anything wrong! You can’t punish me for nothing!”

My brother, oh how much I owe him and cannot possibly repay. He placed his hand on my shoulder and put an end to my tirade. Michael stood looking down at me, a look I still haven’t figured out plastered on his features. Locked in his gaze as I was, I couldn’t move. Every part of me felt super heated beyond tolerance, yet chilled so fully that I started to shiver.

The angel took flight with out another word; the strength of his wings was so that it knocked me to the ground, though I would have ended up there regardless. With the sudden loss of that angels gaze, I felt as if I was emptied of everything that made me what I was.

“Roasha,” My brother said to me as he too slowly sat on the ground. “Listen to me dear sister, this is very important.”

I had never heard my brother speak to me so, and turned my attention from watching one of the many soul butterflies– to him. His silver gaze so caring looked down at me, and I wish I could see what he saw, what he placed his very existence in danger to protect. His blue-black hair shifted around his shoulders like the mane of a lion after he has fended off a powerful opponent.

“Roasha, you cannot speak to Captain Michael like that. He can keep you from the soul valley regardless of what the others say. He is one of our strongest guardians, and his words are to be heeded without question. Do you understand me?”

I nodded that I did, despite the fact that I didn’t quite understand why he had banned me from the valley.

“Why did Michael call me an abom-i-nation?” I questioned of my brother, believing that he had all the answers. I didn’t get an answer that day, but I did for the first time see a look of sadness on my brother’s face.

I remember sitting up on my knees for how short I was, and reaching my hand up to place it on my brothers cheek. So soft and still childish then, yet it held the edginess that he would quickly grow into as the years passed.

“Don’t be sad Raziel; you don’t have to tell me if it hurts.” I said to him, honestly not wanting to ever hurt my brother. His larger hand pressed my hand harder against his cheek, and a smile graced his lips. The look in his eyes spoke of nothing more then pure love, the kind of love that could move mountains with its sheer power.

“I am not sad Roasha.”

That was the first time my brother lied to me.

FOOTER2

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s