From A Secret Place, pt. 8 by isobellefox, literature
Literature
From A Secret Place, pt. 8
When at last Jubee stumbled out of the forest and back into the Temples clearing, her path determined almost entirely by blind instinct, her feet were a painful, bloody mess, and her face was transfigured by dirt and tears.
Barely able to cross the last few feet to the door, her vision was so blurred that the candlelight within seemed to her an ethereal fire sent to consume the world. When, upon the steps, she lost her footing and fell, the arms which caught her, lifted her, and carried her inside seemed sent from a fever dream, the barely recognizable face before her like that of a disfigured angel.
Im still dreaming, she thou
From A Secret Place, pt. 7 by isobellefox, literature
Literature
From A Secret Place, pt. 7
The dream was cold, and blue, and devoid of form.
Within it, but unaware that she was dreaming, Jubee could hear the lapping of waves, and the sound was also cold.
Im at sea, she thought, and I have no boat.
Now, the blue, formless void, as if taking direction from her thoughts and from the sound of the waves, coalesced around her body, and suddenly she was, indeed, at sea. Struggling to keep her head above the water, she drew a panicked breath of thick, frigid air, and swung herself clumsily around, trying to get her bearings.
How did I get here?
But all around there was nothing but the cold blue of waves and the grey of rolling f
From A Secret Place, Pt. 6 by isobellefox, literature
Literature
From A Secret Place, Pt. 6
When they finally reached the Temple, both Philo and Jubee were exhausted. Few words had passed between them as they made their way back up the mountain, and Jubee sensed that Philo was still preoccupied with thoughts of the days events.
Her own thoughts had centered, primarily, around the mysterious manner with which Philo had addressed those gathered for the dinner at Terons. There, at a table generously laden with a wonderful meal prepared by the extended family of their gracious host and surrounded by the eager and concerned members of the Council of Danbooth, Philo had spoken at great length, but had said very little.
Once
From A Secret Place, Pt. 4 by isobellefox, literature
Literature
From A Secret Place, Pt. 4
Philo turned and walked towards the eidolon, and Jubee followed close behind. She knew that Philo was hurt, and that had not been her intention. Nevertheless, now was not the time for such things.
As they reached the dais, Philo ascended the three steps to its surface, but Jubee simply walked around its gradual curve until she came to a place where she could best see the front of the statue without obstruction.
Philo, meanwhile, unceremoniously approached the thing itself, and when she stood directly before it, she paused momentarily, looking up at its face, as if trying to divine its secrets by reading is physiognomy. Evidently unsatisfied
From A Secret Place, Pt. 3 by isobellefox, literature
Literature
From A Secret Place, Pt. 3
Though they made good time, it took them a little over two hours to make the journey to Danbooth. Because the mountain formed a long, narrow prominence with sheer cliffs to the north, south, and west, the travelers had to thread their way to the east and then double back to the west at its base to reach the village where it rested on the coast.
All of them traveled, for the most part, in silence.
The path down the mountain was heavily wooded, and beneath the canopy, the bright light of the split spheres was filtered and transformed into shifting constellations of gold and patchwork puzzles of ebony shadow. Like ashes and embers, Jubee thoug
From A Secret Place, Pt. 5 by isobellefox, literature
Literature
From A Secret Place, Pt. 5
When Philo and Jubee left the Meeting Hall, they did so without speaking, but Philo reached out her hand and Jubee took it gladly.
As the great doors closed behind them and the bright light of day once more cascaded down with welcome warmth, briefly blinding them, and as the prosaic sounds and smells of the main street of Danbooth greeted their senses, both felt estranged from all of it for a moment.
However, the feeling soon passed, for though mysteries and wonders will sometimes intrude upon the canvas of the mundane, that hardy fabric will always reassert itself with diligent strokes as quickly as possible, and the wise, though knowing t
From A Secret Place, Pt. 2 by isobellefox, literature
Literature
From A Secret Place, Pt. 2
Silence, finally, and stillness. The only sounds: the unobtrusive rhythms of breath and heart. The candle light no longer flickered, and as if to further insulate and dampen the atmosphere, the chill blackness which had only pressed longingly at the windows before now cascaded into every corner and crease, sealing out the visible world as if covetous of its distractions.
Philo lay still, her arms enfolding Jubee almost protectively, driven by some instinct that required the contact to ensure that she still existed, to ensure that she didnt slip away like a willow-the-wisp, a dream, or some errant verse of new and unfettered poetry, los
From A Secret Place, Pt 1 by isobellefox, literature
Literature
From A Secret Place, Pt 1
...And there within the fortress
Of my fear and pain and pride
There in the empty silence
Where even my dreams had died
I reached into that cold blue fire,
And I felt your hand in mine... - Philo
Jubee watched as the gulls wheeled in dancing clouds, like tiny white gems freckling the raging surf far below. Their cries were lost to the distance and to the dull rumble of water against stone. She considered their microscopic uniformity with admiration.
To have wings, she thought..... to fly and fly until you broke free from the earth forever, until you could reach out and touch the face of the spheres.....
If I could, I would leap out
From A Secret Place, Intro by isobellefox, literature
Literature
From A Secret Place, Intro
'The first lines define three moments in time..' - Charnel
At first, all is darkness, impenetrable, immeasurable.
All is silent, vacuous emptiness.
We see nothing, hear nothing, are nothing.
Time passes here, but we are unaware of it.
And then, suddenly there is light.
It begins as a single point of piercing brightness, but rapidly expands.
Silver, and purple, and streaming, it races outwards in all directions to fill the emptiness.
For us, the advent of the light brings awareness, though only dimly, for now there is something, and we are a part of it. With this fledgling consciousness, the passing of time becomes appar
FASP: Fist Raised for War by isobellefox, literature
Literature
FASP: Fist Raised for War
The cold hands that reach from the outter darkness are turning the knife, as the spiral of fading sunlight blackens fields, and all are falling now. All? No. Do not look for what you cannot see, child.
Four are the number of the nameless agents, the silent angels, that wrathful bring the End in golden cups, overflowing. And I whisper the aching wish, the talons enfolded in a word, shattering the world: the question that seals an eon as they pour it fourth. Why? what purpose does it serve to know?
This is the carnival of Lost Souls. This is the command of the One True Tyrant. Singed, oblivious, the flesh pales and withers; all of them lined