...the silence sounds so loudly that you want to scream but you can't breathe. When the center fails at once is on the face a terrible thing yet there is a far worse tragedy. It can come on slowly and weaken the holds. Repairs can be made and the damage minimized or negated. The bulwarks can be shored up and the forces redeployed to reinforce the Keep. The two ends can be brought together to cover the hole in the line. The Keep remains weakened yet strong and held fast.
There is a moment though, during a time of peace, a moment of rest when the battles have paused that brings a far greater danger. The clouds part, a single shining beam bursts through the gloom and haze. The beauty of the things it touches is beyond radiance. The face turns up to the warmth and the eye catches a small delicate feather, floating on the currents of time and tide in the air. The glistening colors of the downy apparition sparkle in the mind. It drifts closer and the heart warms with love of this beautiful sight. The limbs feel the strength flooding through them, the soul drinks of the faith in love and life. Gazing at the plume drifting closer until is comes alight ever so gently on the breast, beneath which the heart beats, the mind sees the color for what it truly is at last. The light no longer shining through but now directly on the blood covered talisman as it at last registers in his mind that beauty has passed from his world. At that instant the shining diamond that was the warriors heart fails and shatters. No longer can this man pursue the fight or rise to meet the challenge of strength. He has withstood thousands of assaults, hundreds of blows and countless foes and always walked away victorious. The heart was intact and could not be stopped, thus the warrior could not be vanquished.
...but here in this moment of peace, under the guise of harmonious chance, the warrior has been felled. The fight has fled and the fear has found hold in him. The shattered bits of his once indestructible heart lay in a ruinous pile.
There is a piece, larger than the rest, and it says quietly inside that he can rebuild. Deep inside it speaks softly to him and let's him know that this moment shall pass. His mind acknowledges it but at the same time is helpless to give further direction, at least for the moment. When he rebuilds it, the heart will not be what it once was. The shape and strength will be different yet it will be the heart that he must rely upon. The battles will not abate and for a time he will nurse his wounds but he will rise again.
There is a moment though, during a time of peace, a moment of rest when the battles have paused that brings a far greater danger. The clouds part, a single shining beam bursts through the gloom and haze. The beauty of the things it touches is beyond radiance. The face turns up to the warmth and the eye catches a small delicate feather, floating on the currents of time and tide in the air. The glistening colors of the downy apparition sparkle in the mind. It drifts closer and the heart warms with love of this beautiful sight. The limbs feel the strength flooding through them, the soul drinks of the faith in love and life. Gazing at the plume drifting closer until is comes alight ever so gently on the breast, beneath which the heart beats, the mind sees the color for what it truly is at last. The light no longer shining through but now directly on the blood covered talisman as it at last registers in his mind that beauty has passed from his world. At that instant the shining diamond that was the warriors heart fails and shatters. No longer can this man pursue the fight or rise to meet the challenge of strength. He has withstood thousands of assaults, hundreds of blows and countless foes and always walked away victorious. The heart was intact and could not be stopped, thus the warrior could not be vanquished.
...but here in this moment of peace, under the guise of harmonious chance, the warrior has been felled. The fight has fled and the fear has found hold in him. The shattered bits of his once indestructible heart lay in a ruinous pile.
There is a piece, larger than the rest, and it says quietly inside that he can rebuild. Deep inside it speaks softly to him and let's him know that this moment shall pass. His mind acknowledges it but at the same time is helpless to give further direction, at least for the moment. When he rebuilds it, the heart will not be what it once was. The shape and strength will be different yet it will be the heart that he must rely upon. The battles will not abate and for a time he will nurse his wounds but he will rise again.
Woah.... You're deep. You should put some of this to song my friend.
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