literature

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Literature Text

Slumped over the work desk-papers littering the
floor and cluttering the desk with inkblots of purple and
blue, Kelil raises her head from her arms and fixes her
eyes upon the doorway before her. Has it been so long
now? Since the time first began and we mortals walked
the earth? No-it seems no more than an eye blink-
since yesterday. When the world was new and innocent,
and things were much simpler -
She remembers sitting at a table-filled with glass jars
and cryptic letters on papers that screwed her vision into
tight, frustrated knots of ink scribble.
Sheath stood before her-hands balled up in front of her
chin-pacing in her mind-guessing at which organic
element could be combined with another to form gold.
Her lips quivered as she suddenly pivoted on the ball of
one foot and halted abruptly, head still resting on the
matted gnarl of hands-and walked towards the cabinet.
Enormous, dark wood shined with a hidden secret. Rich
cherry-red mahogany bark beckoned her with its
treasure. The Scrolls of ornament curled and uncurled
into various shapes and forms-a grape vine, then a
swallow-bird, then a deep pool that seemed to ripple
when one held their head just so-. Sheath stood before
it, uttering the words of the unlocking spell.
She listened and took a mental check of Sheath's
syllables-"Salis, lemper, knoptic, mentel…" No-they
always change anew each time-she reminded herself.
She'd never know the secret of the blazewood cabinet.
No, that was for Sheath alone.
The cabinet unlocked and dragged open, almost as if it
was angry at Sheath, and she caught a quick glimpse of
what lay inside. Bottle of rainbows and dreams
unfurled-that is all that she could remember. Butterflies
dancing with fairies in jars-and buttercups glistening
with dew carried by purple cater walkers. The fantasies
of childhood and the dreams of yester-year. All of them
were there.
Sheath withdrew a bottle from the shelf of bluish haze
and of a jeweled tone. An eye winked at her from the
other side of the jar-and at first Kelil jumped, and then
she laughed in bewilderment. Sheath threw her an
unnerving stare.
"Do you-Child-have anything better to do with your
time than to bother me?"
Kelil shook her head.
Sheath sighed regretfully and continued her mission.
She turned her back to look at the cabinet-but suddenly
it was not there, as if it had never existed at all. "A secret
spell", Kelil thought. "I wonder what other
wonders this room has to hide?"
Sheath steadily careened the room-grabbing a
powdered this and a grained that, sparkled speckled
items and wilted rose petal dew, shadow's dust and coils
of sadness-black as night, yet bright as day.
Sheath counted to ten the items she has laid before her
and smiled at her accomplishment. "Good" she said and
twined her long fingers together again and commenced
mentally 'pacing' as her eyes darted from one corner to
the other, trying to find an object she knew all too well.
Sheath's eyes then rested on Kelil as she bantered over
to her desk and grabbed her arm-hard.
"Girl, do you have it?"
Kelil became too scared to think. Her tongue froze in her
mouth and her hands grew clammy. What could she
say? That she set it free? It looked so lonely all bottled
up…and so cold. It had the biggest prettiest multicolored
eyes you'd ever see-as big as a doe's and just as
feeling…she felt sorry for it and set it free, and since
then, she had had no rest.
He looked at her through mirrors-and played tricks on
her every now and then-just so she would not forget
him. He is beautiful, but cold-and feeling-but
unemotional and hateful and spiteful as a snake. He had
grown with her guilt, and though she aged-he aged not,
but remained as handsome as the day she first glimpsed
him from behind that crystal jar.
Sheath is now long gone.
They last met an eon ago-under the Vale tree in the
forest-before Zyrna's father died. That was the last she
saw of her, then. Yet she knew that she was still alive-
somewhere and suffering her existence day by day-as
the years flood back through daydreamed memories.
Sheath still is the woman she knew long ago-still,
tangled brown hair surrounds her head like a bent halo,
and her long, slim fingers pierce her words and danced
circled movements around her thin, frail wrists.
Kelil set him free. And he would forever torment her in
his wily ways. One day she knew that she would be
powerless against him-maybe even need him…want
him.
Thence, she kept away from desire and has now for all
these years. She has never enjoyed the warm solace of
arms wrapped around her-or the slow, sweet lingering
kiss of honeyed lips upon hers…or the feeling of urgency
and overcoming need to be with someone.
She was isolated from these things, and in so, she was
isolated from pain-from the pain of separation, and
guilt, and regret. In this, she was grateful.
But then there was something that seemed amiss-that
she only found within his deep amber eyes-drowning
within. So and So deep…his smile reflected the sun a
thousand times in its brightness and his face was that of
a sculpture-formed with fine, determined strokes of the
hand and a strategic placement of a chisel.
He was formed soft, yet strong. She remembered the
way his hair teased his eyes and hung low over his brow
so much that he would often sweep it away with his
hand…she remembered the way he would look at
her…longing and feeling the same way as she…but
never able to meet, nor come together if but for a
moments reflection in the mirror before her, or the sound
of loving laughter when she thought of him…which was
often-though it seemed not, for she hid it behind her
stony graph of personality and mannerisms. She knew,
one day they would meet-but that day would be her
end. That was her price for immortality-a continuing
ache that seemed, at times, worse than death itself…
Yet better than dying.
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