Almost completed (I'd like to edit it one more time) but, in case I don't have time, I'd like to leave a finished product here.
First Recorded Sighting of the White Nymph
--Extract from the Journal of Mosquitino (1824-1890)--
It was dawn when I woke. Quite dark it was too. The village was but a blur in the distance, but I – being a time elemental – was not hindered or intimidated by distance. After all, what is distance but the passing of time?
Like always, it surprised me when I reached the village, a giant solid structure breaking through my wander of thought. This statement, while figurative, could be taken quite literally as well. It was no coincidence that the first people I properly met were the healers of the village. But pain is temporary, and my nose is now firmly attached to my face again.
While I initially suspected the village to be nothing more than a group of commoners, I was swiftly corrected by their expertise in healing. These were light elementals, but nothing like the obnoxious, self centred ones of the city. They were humble, and their skills were unmatched in areas untouched by the ones known to us.
But, their smiles, although bright and welcoming, seemed somehow forced. Often, I would catch them gazing wistfully at the sky. It was then I noticed how dark it was. The sun should have been at the height of its arc, with golden rays of light floating gracefully down to earth. But, instead there was an almost unnatural darkness. For them, it must have been a living nightmare.
The village was my home for many months. I was fascinated by both the people, and their situation. A few times, I thought I saw a mysterious figure wearing a white gown, who seemed to glow among the darkness. But whenever I turned, she was gone. I learned that the darkness had plagued the village for almost 4 years, which would become 5 on December the 21st. I felt a premonition here, but I forced myself to ignore it, and not bring false hope to the villagers.
But, when I awoke on the 21st, nothing seemed different at first. The sky was still dark. In fact, nothing unusual happened until I raised my head away from my breakfast, only to be scared out of my wits by the mysterious woman sitting in front of me. She was elegant and calm as I cleaned the milk I spat out off of my lap and face. And she spoke, and I will never forget her words, or the silky manner in which she spoke them.
“Good Morning Mosquitino. I have been watching you, as I have watched this village suffer for the last 5 years. Despite their troubles, they never once departed, in search of an easier life. I was wise to grant them my sword, so many years ago, in the guise of an old dying man. But, I too have been cursed since then. I am forbidden from direct contact with my people, although I was born of their spirits. I am forever bound to provide sanctuary to them, for our life forces are intertwined, and it pains me to not be able to help them.
But, you Mosquitino, you are unbound, and pure of heart. Could you present to them, my gift?”
Here, not for the first time, I tried to speak. After many incomprehensible sounds, including one that sounded uncannily like a rooster, I gave up due to her silent giggles and gave a slight nod.
“We all have light inside of us, burning brightly, and this bottle contains the fuel to truly make it shine. All you must do is open it at the campfire tonight. I regret that I cannot do it myself, but I am sure you will be fine. But now, I must leave. I must bid you goodbye. It was good talking to you”
She left me to ponder her last words, wondering what I had managed to say of value among my frequent coughs, sputters and incoherent syllables.
Needless to say, I went to the campfire under her wishes. There was energy among the people of the village, but this was not matched by the fire, flickering pathetically at their feet. The jar was in my jacket, and I slowly started to twist the lid. The light never seemed to escape from the jar, but slowly, light began emanating from the people of the village. Although on paper, it sounds slightly off-putting, let me now say, that I have never, seen anything more beautiful in my life.
As the villagers slowly realised what was happening, I left silently. I felt like this was their private time, and it was my time to continue my journeys. As I left, I saw one figure, an old man. He was the only one not ecstatic, but he gave an unnaturally beautiful smile, with hints of laughter at its ends. This smile stayed in my mind, as I walked far away, past the village, past the mountains, past the cities. And to this day, if I ever feel shrouded in darkness, I picture that smile, that laughter, and I feel… Hope.
842 words.
And if I hear the words 'too long, didn't read' to judge my story, I will personally challenge you to write something better, so watch out!
