|The Avatar is Born
||[Aug. 19th, 2007|10:10 am]
* Hello, here is my short story for the creative idea of a blue feather!
They blew all around him and one even graced the tip of his earlobe, caressing fingers of a lover. It was as if a dozen roses yielded their delicate petals into the wind except these were soft, pale-blue feathers. These were feathers that bent and leaped, feathery ballet dancers twirling past him. Mitchell must have stood as an immovable stone watching the feathers for at least ten minutes. He was petrified; he was shocked into disbelief. The thought would not complete itself in his mind; it would not yield to the truth. And the truth was: he was the Avatar.
The feathers finally stopped their twisted dance through the air and Mitchell’s legs, of their own accord, forced him the sit on the hill. “My Great Grandfather showed signs of it, but my Grandmother did not, thought Mitchell, Now, my Father never grew the wings like Great Grandfather did yet Father showed his Avatar through his legendary sword.” He knew it ran in the family, but it did not mean he manifested into a full-blown Avatar; or did he?
He felt strong enough now to stand again and he went down the hill to where the vile inky corpses steamed in the sun. They attacked him near the stone circle fifteen feet away where his Father had first drawn his sword from the sand in the center circle. The ancient monoliths loomed dark, casting a powerful shadow over the dead demons. He killed them when the panic rose in him. He remembers he transformed with first the luminous blue glow, and then, the silky blue wings sprouted from his back. There wasn’t any pain, only a strange pressure of force as the wings sprouted from his back. He even had only partial memory of the power that roared from him. All he can remember is, the rush of power flowing through him like running water and demon flesh being ripped apart. And then he fell to his knees as the power drained from him; the wings went limp and each feather fell off of him until he had no wings left.
All of this was not his doing; this great power just sprang forth when the panic had risen inside him. Mitchell’s brain finally accepted the truth. But he didn’t know what to do now. These things must have attacked him because they knew what he was. Would he be able to control the power upon will? He wondered. It was an awakening into a new being. But he didn’t feel any different. Mitchell thought about who could help him understand what was going on. Yet, there wasn’t anyone who could. His Father was missing ever since his birth, his Mother was dead, and his Uncle was never around. The only thing was to take charge and head for the library to get some answers. Mitchell looked around cautiously hoping noting else would come at him and then, he walked quietly to the street of the mini city he lived in.
It was strange that the stone monolith was so close to the city and an American city at that. It drew plenty of tourists to the area which meant extra income for the town. However, Mitchell did not see the money going toward repairing this run down little town. He watched carefully before crossing the street to where the library sat with its stone lions and darkly stained marble walls. The library reminded Mitchell of a medieval fortress which just survived a major siege. When he opened the enormous oak doors and entered the library, everyone seated or browsing looked up to stare at him. Their stares were so intense that Mitchell hesitated at the doorway, ready to bolt. He inwardly gasped realizing that the battle with the demons could have been seen and heard since the monoliths were so close to town. He inhaled and decided to step forward into the library and as he did, the people ignored him and went back to their books. He sighed deeply and felt relieved that no one saw or heard.
What was he looking for in the library? How about start with asking the librarian about Avatars? The librarian was shelving books when Mitchell approached him. He was a tall gangly man with a braided beard. “Excuse me sir” said Mitchell, “but do you know where I can find information on Avatars?” The gangly man looked up into Mitchell’s face with a piercing stony look. But then the stone-colored pupils rolled to the left and seemed to be focused on a part of Mitchell’s jacket. He mumbled “third floor mythology” and then wheeled the book cart away. Mitchell furrowed his brow and he slowly looked down at the front of his jacket. There, caught in the zipper, was a single blue feather. With shaking hands, he pulled the feather loose from his zipper and quickly tucked it into his pants pocket.
The unnerving look of the librarian made him feel cold all over. Hopefully, he wasn’t demon. Mitchell climbed the stairs to the third floor looking for answers. But something made him look over the fence to the floor below and his heart leaped to his throat as the stony-eyed librarian stood there tall and glaring into Mitchell’s soul.