Flood 360 Days of Symbols

Day 12 of 360 Days of Symbols. Today’s symbol? Flood.

Wherever he walked the flood followed, the water rising up behind him, drowning entire cities in the shadows of his footsteps. He was immortal and his pain was always with him, being carried in the memories of the cities he’s destroyed, his thoughts always returning to the look on their faces when the wave engulfed the sun, the moon, the entire sky, and then devoured them one at a time.

Some would try to swim, but the fish always got them, pulling them apart piece by piece. He tried to forget these pain these problems. But that was his curse, to always remember. To be followed by flood and to known as the one who devoured the world.

Waterfall #360DaysofSymbols

Day 11 of 360 Days of Symbols. Today’s symbol? Waterfall.

Water through fingers, falling over rocks, fish through fingers, flapping, there on the bottom in the palm is a bear with the water over face and hands splashing, rising up with the fish in his mouth. Bones and all it swallows and then dives in again and again. When an arrow flies and goes through the skull sticking out the bear tumbles and the hunter comes over, slices open the stomach, and the fish flow out, free, flapping, still living things, right into the hunter’s net.

Whirlpool #360DaysofSymbols

Day 10 of 360 Days of Symbols. Today’s symbol? Whirlpool.

Swirling song of water and you can watch as the rocks make spirals out of it, spirals that give you vision down, down, into the seabottom, where in the sand are laid out smooth rocks that carry the sigils of magic. Look down, look, and see the woman laying them down. She moves quickly, quietly, doing it all before the sea changes its thought and decides to make the visible invisible again.

Lake #360DaysofSymbols

Day 9 of 360 Days of Symbols. Today’s symbol? Lake.

Like all mirrors, lakes are thresholds to other worlds. Wait for the water to be still, for the reflection to be undiluted by ripples. A clear, perfect reflection, nothing changes, everything the same.  An echo of the world you are in, wait for that moment, and then stare, just stare.

It’s almost like a magic eye picture isn’t it?

At first you can’t believe what you’re seeing. You stare, stare, stare and then everything changes in the reflection. Slowly, one item at a time. A tree becomes a tower. The sun becomes three suns, or nineteen, or none. The clouds change color, odd colors, and the sky is all wrong. Islands appear, then disappear.

Once the changes are complete a sunflash will signal. Cross then, cross quick. If you wait until too long you may become trapped between worlds, in a state of both being and unbeing. A ghost caught in a sandwich between realities.

River #360DaysofSymbols

Day 8 of 360 Days of Symbols. Today’s symbol? River.

Round riverbend through island the bodies floated face down, spines turned towards the red sun and a sky filled with the roar of airships. More whistles in the wind as silver eggs fell from the ships and burst on the ground with an expulsion of magic, dropping more bodies where they stand. Doing chores like every day things, the sick magic corpsing them without thought, without a second beat.

One minute: dishes, playing in a circle, running through the streets. The next? Dead. On the ground, on the floor, on the roof. Dead. Falling down, the body rolling on the earth. A few the magic did not touch,  shamans, mystics, oracles, people protected by things unknown. Demons, gods, ghosts.

They walk now, weeping of the dead as more eggs fall from the sky, pushing the corpses of their family, their loves, pushing them into the hungry river. Watching it drag the bodies away and out into the mountains, into the caves beneath, were old gods sleep waiting. Their death will not be a war casualty. Now they will rise again in the heart of the mountain. Now they will bring out the fury of the dead, and ride the volcanic ash into the air, and burn down the ships in the sky itself.

Ocean: #360DaysofSymbols

Day 7 of 360 Days of Symbols. Today’s symbol? Ocean.

The water is the heart of the world. Sunset stains ocean red and a lone boat rides the tides, bopping up and down at each crest and fall. The sound is like a whisper of silence, the sound of blood in a vein, a heartbeat of water and wave.

On the boat are gallows stretching the entire ship, with bodies hung and swinging with each wave. The dead heads are bowed down like prayer, and their dead hands are clasped together, like prayer, and their dead mouths are sewn open, like prayer.

The city on the shore, hung up above eroded cliffs, it does not know what is coming towards them, it does not know what this ship calls, and what follows it thundering the bottom of the ocean.

Comet:#360DaysofSymbols

Day 6 of 360 Days of Symbols. Today’s symbol? Comet.

They led him through the bronze double doors, the smell of stardust in the air like the afterbirth of an explosion, his knees dragging on the glass floor, the stars below them infinite just outside, threatening to devour them with eternity. They had him by the arms, and he could barely move, they had stunned him so much his knees and legs stopped working days ago.

“You will stand,” the tall one said, “When you reach her chambers.”

“I can’t stand,” he muttered, his words barely words, mostly whispers.

Behind the door was a long hall of pillars that glowed with a golden light, reflecting a fire that burned for ages. That light made each pillar like a sun. Yet it was just an echo of another light, a reflection, a refraction, a movement through time and space. Just an empty simulacra of the real light.

That real light was at the far end. They moved him further and further down the hall. Ceiling and walls and floor all glass, all showing the space that sang around them, star upon star, galaxy upon distant galaxy. Clusters of light and darkness. He found strength to stand to walk. The light at the end commanded him and he obeyed. No will to deny the light. You cannot deny the light.

Finally, finally. The end. The throne was up, up, up. She sat at the top of it, and the flame of her hair spun down and around the throne. It was a snake of fire, that hair, a snake of sun, a snake of light. It went on for ages, wrapping around and around. And there she sat, golden skin, glowing down at him. Her clothes long since burned away by the light of her hair.

“Lady Comet,” they said, lifting him up, “We removed him from the prison just as you said.”

“Good, good,” her voice was ancient, star born.