Two arms. Two legs. A torso and a pelvis. Hands. Feet. A head. Some hair. No matter how many times he shaped the image, it was still just that: an image. A duplication made from observation, lifeless unless given life, and even then, it still wouldn't be the person he wanted it to be. All the power in the world, and the simplest treasures we're still impossible to get on your own. Kain couldn't help but grin at the irony. He set this sculpture aside, letting it gleam in the sun with its black luster.
As he got to work crafting another, he began making the shape of a woman, and took great care to shape everything as precisely as memory would allow. The seclusion of the waterfall made it easy to work, but as all seclusion does, it brought about a little loneliness. He looked around, and finding none to watch, thought it safe to sing a song while he was at his craft. It began with a hum, and then the words.
I've walked the miles,
I've watched the aisles,
Seen all there is to see.
And still, I look n' ask for more,
O' treasure, where can ya be?
Her armor came first- rough, it was, but he payed attention not to cover her in it. Her skin was part of her beauty. Kain took a breath, partly to steady his hands and properly even out the smoothness of the figure, and partly to breathe in for the rest of the song.
I've reached the top,
N' took the hop
Down back into the sea.
And breathed off the single thought,
O' treasure, where can ya be?
Boots, blades, fingers, nails, the magnitude or mundanity of the feature didn't matter, each was tended to with an artist's touch. If one could measure the life of an inanimate object, the emerging figure at Kain's hands was starting to show the most life of its predecessors. The image was getting clearer in his mind.
And then I swam the ocean floor,
'Til I couldn't move no more,
So I stared out at the sea,
And while I stared, I did implore,
O' treasure, where can ya be?
Kain shaped her cloak, as well, lightly billowing in the wind, as it may have were she standing before him. He caressed her hair, creating the fine texture of each strand as he did, and growing notably more weary with each movement. Then, he reached for her face, and began to work at it, losing his focus with every touch.
And when the darkness came to meet,
My heart's slow, receding beat,
And I knew I couldn't flee
Angel o' my memory,
O' treasure, where can ya be?
Kain had shaped her mouth.. her nose, her jaw, everything- everything, but her eyes; he dared not touch those. His hand moved with the gentlest of a quiver, shaping the eyes and lashes of the figure before him, shut peacefully as they stared into the sky. He made them so because he knew, were they open, he would surely succumb to their gaze. When he finished, he sat back, and he eyed the memory of the beauty, and saw that she really had taken a life of her own, and each ounce of her life had been taken from him. Kain watched this woman frozen in time, and he questioned his memory. He questioned if it was alive in this world, or if it was only alive in his heart. And Kain was met with a striking despair.
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Spent a goddamn half hour coming up with that song. Yes, that's an original. I dunno, I seem to like these one-shots. I'll start doing them for other characters of mine, too. Some light-hearted ones are due soon enough.
Fri Apr 30, 2010 5:58 am
