October 14
Blissful silence wreathed the white angel as it drifted. And yet, silence was all but impossible in the world, if one knew to listen. The song of the sea was a symphony of whispers, sung by the tides. The discordance it had been swept up in had banished the Rah from Fiji Jupiter. Upon this drift, it's wounds from the surprise blow healed. The Instrumentalist lived, cradled within like a sleeping babe. One had to be awake, and with the instrumentalist unconscious, the task fell upon Rah.
It would have to surface eventually, the boy would need tended to by humanity, but until that time a burning curiosity drove it. As it drifted, Rah observed. Above the rising sun painted ripples of light, the distant shimmering mirror obstructed by the shadow of schools of fish and marine life. Below and around it, motes and streams of color swam, each an individual entity that called this blue expanse home. Scales flashed and glittered in the light, like jewels in the night sky. A gentle finger reached out to stroke the flank of a passing shark, startling the creature away.
Rah listened to the myriad of chorus sung by the depths. The silence of the depths, the whisper of the tide, the great booming orchestra of whales, the chattering calls of the dolphins. A cacophony of odd notes faintly joined the music as Rah drifted on the tide. A heartbeat, slow and great. The din of everyday life, resonating from within something great. Curiosity led Rah to propel itself, seeking the source. And soon, it was found. A great massive entity, ascending the waves. Rah drifted closer, hand outstretched. It could hear everything carried by the sea from those walls of it's shell.
A shared sense of loneliness shared in the moment. Though each held precious lives within, neither could interact with them directly. Rah placed it's hand upon the creature's brow, a soothing gentle touch. It leaned in and began to sing, a pure and vibrant song, gentle as the tide, soft as the sand below, warm as the sun above filtering down, beautiful as the stars. For a brief moment in time, RahXephon serenaded the lonely Orphan, and in those notes so pure and clear, reminded the creature that they were not alone.
When the song concluded, Rah slipped backwards, back out into the open water, and slipped beneath the creature, watching in curious wonder as it continued it's own drifting journey. A collision below rattled Rah from it's reverie, and thus it turned. Curiouser and curiouser. A shorn machine drifted in it's own way in the shadow of Orphan. A heart beat faint among the chorus of groaning metal and machinery. Carefully, Rah cradled the Wing in it's arms and began it's own slow ascent to the surface, following the rising slope of the sand below.
When the Wing pilot came to, he would find himself still safely embedded in the cockpit, what was left of his torn machine nestled on a white sandy beach. Palm trees dotted the land scape, mountains in the distance. Calm crystalline blue waters lapped at the shore line, and further back, just before the trees, a great white mecha sat, red eye's fixated upon the Wing. At it's feet, upon a nest of palm fronds, a young girl sat, caramel skin and dark hair with amber eyes framed by thick glasses. In her lap, the head of a dark skinned boy around her own age, sound asleep in a fitful dream. Her hand caressed his kinky hair, as if to soothe him and keep him asleep. For the trials ahead and what was to come, Ixtli would let him sleep as long as he could.
Blissful silence wreathed the white angel as it drifted. And yet, silence was all but impossible in the world, if one knew to listen. The song of the sea was a symphony of whispers, sung by the tides. The discordance it had been swept up in had banished the Rah from Fiji Jupiter. Upon this drift, it's wounds from the surprise blow healed. The Instrumentalist lived, cradled within like a sleeping babe. One had to be awake, and with the instrumentalist unconscious, the task fell upon Rah.
It would have to surface eventually, the boy would need tended to by humanity, but until that time a burning curiosity drove it. As it drifted, Rah observed. Above the rising sun painted ripples of light, the distant shimmering mirror obstructed by the shadow of schools of fish and marine life. Below and around it, motes and streams of color swam, each an individual entity that called this blue expanse home. Scales flashed and glittered in the light, like jewels in the night sky. A gentle finger reached out to stroke the flank of a passing shark, startling the creature away.
Rah listened to the myriad of chorus sung by the depths. The silence of the depths, the whisper of the tide, the great booming orchestra of whales, the chattering calls of the dolphins. A cacophony of odd notes faintly joined the music as Rah drifted on the tide. A heartbeat, slow and great. The din of everyday life, resonating from within something great. Curiosity led Rah to propel itself, seeking the source. And soon, it was found. A great massive entity, ascending the waves. Rah drifted closer, hand outstretched. It could hear everything carried by the sea from those walls of it's shell.
A shared sense of loneliness shared in the moment. Though each held precious lives within, neither could interact with them directly. Rah placed it's hand upon the creature's brow, a soothing gentle touch. It leaned in and began to sing, a pure and vibrant song, gentle as the tide, soft as the sand below, warm as the sun above filtering down, beautiful as the stars. For a brief moment in time, RahXephon serenaded the lonely Orphan, and in those notes so pure and clear, reminded the creature that they were not alone.
When the song concluded, Rah slipped backwards, back out into the open water, and slipped beneath the creature, watching in curious wonder as it continued it's own drifting journey. A collision below rattled Rah from it's reverie, and thus it turned. Curiouser and curiouser. A shorn machine drifted in it's own way in the shadow of Orphan. A heart beat faint among the chorus of groaning metal and machinery. Carefully, Rah cradled the Wing in it's arms and began it's own slow ascent to the surface, following the rising slope of the sand below.
When the Wing pilot came to, he would find himself still safely embedded in the cockpit, what was left of his torn machine nestled on a white sandy beach. Palm trees dotted the land scape, mountains in the distance. Calm crystalline blue waters lapped at the shore line, and further back, just before the trees, a great white mecha sat, red eye's fixated upon the Wing. At it's feet, upon a nest of palm fronds, a young girl sat, caramel skin and dark hair with amber eyes framed by thick glasses. In her lap, the head of a dark skinned boy around her own age, sound asleep in a fitful dream. Her hand caressed his kinky hair, as if to soothe him and keep him asleep. For the trials ahead and what was to come, Ixtli would let him sleep as long as he could.
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