patch.
listen what I say, oh
- 216
- Posts
- 15
- Years
- Age 28
- The Sky with Diamonds.
- Seen Sep 15, 2013
BreakOut has sort of died for me in my head, so I'm starting a new one. I have chapters planned out, so hopefully this'll be active, and maybe BreakOut will return later in time. ^-^
---
The torches lit the darkened alleyways, guiding me with ease. Nobody walked by my side. Nobody cared to.
The Firestival took place every year, on the seventeenth of November. Many legends surrounded Myna Isle, but none so more than the celebration of Firestival. Torches are lit and fireworks fly, brightening the clear night sky with silhouettes of different Pokémon. The Firestival roots run deep in history, and it is celebrated through each generation and always has been since a time so far back it's untraceable. Firestival centers around Moltres, the legendary bird Pokémon of fire. I only knew all this because I studied it, – needless to say, getting a lot of sneers from the many other kids on the island – as I have an interest in the roots of a lot of things.
My hand scraped against the creamy coloured wall of the building as I brushed past, into the small hole. I looked up at the dark sky above me as I moved through the small opening, wondering if Moltres would appear, as it was rumoured to do every Firestival eve. However, it didn't surprise me that there was no bird with wings of fire soaring among the stars above me, as the distant noise of music and laughter from afar would probably have died out from amazement. The Firestival festivities were continuing, but I cared not to join them.
My hands reached out and grasped the rock face. I knew it was there, even though where I was walking was pitch black – I couldn't even see my own hands now, however light my skin was. I raised my other hand to grab a higher hold, and slowly began to force my way up little bit at a time, listening for any footsteps or conversation. If I was caught, I doubt I would be let off lightly.
I hoisted myself onto the red-tiled rooftop, which were slick with rain and coated with dazzling embers from the earlier fireworks. I was now glad I had taken my time; I'd rather refrain from getting singed if I had the choice.
My cut palms moved along the building framework with ease, and I quickly made my way up the curve to the roof, angling myself correctly then pushing off with my feet, landing roughly on the grassy cliff top. I could now hear the construction going on, even throughout the festival, which surprised me; they clearly wanted access to the shrine so much that they were now working through holidays, something they hadn't done before. The inhabitants of Myna had been creating a staircase to the top for years, and I had been getting there almost three times as long. I didn't care to reveal my secret, as this was where I stayed alone, with the company of the Shrine.
The Shrine of Moltres was made of gold and ebony. The wood created the shrine itself, whilst gold was embedded into it as patterns, swirls and spirals coating the shell. According to legend, the gold had been smelted by Moltres itself, along with the figurine of a Moltres, also made of gold, in the center of the shrine. It was curious and surreal, partly because where carved flames should have been were real ones, and never had I seen them go out.
Here was where I stood for the last time in my life I could say that I was alone, friendless and generally depressed. Here was where I stood for the last time in my life where I would never talk to anyone, where I wouldn't be a part of group activities and I would sit alone, learning. Here was where I stood for the last time in my life where I wouldn't do any of those things without a reason not to.
I see the child, the creature said, it's eyesight picking its target from a far distance. The man knelt upon its back nodded once, and the bird sensed his movement, swooping. The boy had no chance to even react as the legendary swooped from the sky, gripping the child in its claw and shooting off once more into the night. The villagers below saw only a glimmer of flashing red which could have easily been mistaken for a firework, and that is exactly what it was mistaken for.
---
Prologue
The torches lit the darkened alleyways, guiding me with ease. Nobody walked by my side. Nobody cared to.
The Firestival took place every year, on the seventeenth of November. Many legends surrounded Myna Isle, but none so more than the celebration of Firestival. Torches are lit and fireworks fly, brightening the clear night sky with silhouettes of different Pokémon. The Firestival roots run deep in history, and it is celebrated through each generation and always has been since a time so far back it's untraceable. Firestival centers around Moltres, the legendary bird Pokémon of fire. I only knew all this because I studied it, – needless to say, getting a lot of sneers from the many other kids on the island – as I have an interest in the roots of a lot of things.
My hand scraped against the creamy coloured wall of the building as I brushed past, into the small hole. I looked up at the dark sky above me as I moved through the small opening, wondering if Moltres would appear, as it was rumoured to do every Firestival eve. However, it didn't surprise me that there was no bird with wings of fire soaring among the stars above me, as the distant noise of music and laughter from afar would probably have died out from amazement. The Firestival festivities were continuing, but I cared not to join them.
My hands reached out and grasped the rock face. I knew it was there, even though where I was walking was pitch black – I couldn't even see my own hands now, however light my skin was. I raised my other hand to grab a higher hold, and slowly began to force my way up little bit at a time, listening for any footsteps or conversation. If I was caught, I doubt I would be let off lightly.
I hoisted myself onto the red-tiled rooftop, which were slick with rain and coated with dazzling embers from the earlier fireworks. I was now glad I had taken my time; I'd rather refrain from getting singed if I had the choice.
My cut palms moved along the building framework with ease, and I quickly made my way up the curve to the roof, angling myself correctly then pushing off with my feet, landing roughly on the grassy cliff top. I could now hear the construction going on, even throughout the festival, which surprised me; they clearly wanted access to the shrine so much that they were now working through holidays, something they hadn't done before. The inhabitants of Myna had been creating a staircase to the top for years, and I had been getting there almost three times as long. I didn't care to reveal my secret, as this was where I stayed alone, with the company of the Shrine.
The Shrine of Moltres was made of gold and ebony. The wood created the shrine itself, whilst gold was embedded into it as patterns, swirls and spirals coating the shell. According to legend, the gold had been smelted by Moltres itself, along with the figurine of a Moltres, also made of gold, in the center of the shrine. It was curious and surreal, partly because where carved flames should have been were real ones, and never had I seen them go out.
Here was where I stood for the last time in my life I could say that I was alone, friendless and generally depressed. Here was where I stood for the last time in my life where I would never talk to anyone, where I wouldn't be a part of group activities and I would sit alone, learning. Here was where I stood for the last time in my life where I wouldn't do any of those things without a reason not to.
***
I see the child, the creature said, it's eyesight picking its target from a far distance. The man knelt upon its back nodded once, and the bird sensed his movement, swooping. The boy had no chance to even react as the legendary swooped from the sky, gripping the child in its claw and shooting off once more into the night. The villagers below saw only a glimmer of flashing red which could have easily been mistaken for a firework, and that is exactly what it was mistaken for.
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