The world of Sky has always been inhabited by the creatures of the light. The sun has risen and set over a realm of magic and wonder, crawling with mystery and secrets, spread throughout the seven constellations. The skies are alive with glittering...
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He started his new life half-buried in sand, his legs drenched in icy water as a cold breeze brushed against his skin.
The waves of an ocean he couldn't see pulled at his legs, leaving traces of seafoam that hissed and dissipated in seconds. He felt the heat of the sun on his face, goosebumps beginning to rise on his arms, partially derived from the crisp feeling in the air, but mostly because of the fact that his clothes were absolutely soaked.
He heard the cry of a seabird, croaking into the quiet of the ocean shore as the water continued to lap at his shoes. He felt like he was in a trance, a little bubble, separated from the outside world and wrapped up in a comfortable blanket, thoughts muted, muffled behind the thick cotton weaving. The bird cawed again, but he was still stuck in a half-awake state, drowsy, barely able to register the cool water flowing over his pants, sticking to his skin. For a moment, he imagined just staying here forever, becoming one with the ground and the water. It would certainly be more comfortable than getting up, he felt. No, no, he felt perfectly okay right here.
The bird squawked. It cut through the haze, and he flinched, the sticky tendrils of sleep still clinging to his entire body, weighing him down. Did he have to wake up?
The bird made a sound like that of a strangled cat.
Yeah, maybe he should.
He felt like he should, anyway. Like something inside of him was trying to knock on the walls of his skull to elicit some sort of response.
His mind was slow to start actually cooperating with his desire to not sit there like some poor imitation of a boulder, though. It's first decree, when it finally climbed out of the pit it had buried itself in, like some hibernating bear that had been asleep for far past winter, past the next spring, even, was to do something. That something was unfortunately unclear, so he began to gather the scattered pieces of his thoughts, trying to create some sort of inclination of what it might be.
Maybe he should open his eyes. That was probably a pretty safe bet. Nothing potentially fatal could happen by taking a peek at what was around him, right?
He managed to peel his crusted eyelids open, blinking twice to adjust to the brilliant light overhead. Then, several things occurred at once, and not all of them were good.
He was walloped with a sick feeling in his gut, like his stomach was trying to break out of his chest and was currently wrestling the rest of his organs. His mouth was as dry as a desert. His entire body felt like it had been crushed beneath a mountain, tossed about, dragged through a hurricane and thrown back underneath the same mountain for good measure, and that was excluding the fact that his eyes felt like tiny little fireballs in their sockets. In short: he felt miserable.
Then, he was hit by the appearance of the sky above him.
Now, he wasn't one to take pretty things for granted, he knew that much. Pretty people, pretty places, pretty conversations that left a sweet taste in his mouth. This, though- the smear of lilac and lavender, muted tones of pink and golden streaks hidden in the sweathes of clouds high, high above his head, with a deep haze of navy haphazardly scattered about on its edges easily took the cake as one of the prettiest things he'd seen in his entire life. Even prettier than..
