A little different

I have more to say about Core Fantasies, and would like to put in a note on my thoughts on "Iron Man", which I saw this weekend, but hat's not for now. First, here's a little something I hammered out in a single sitting today. Very rough, and intended to be solely atmospheric, but thought you might enjoy.


“In an old story, which may or may not be true, we lived, with all the tribes of humanity, at the top of our mountain.”

Auberon's father gestured lazily towards the mountain he had spent his entire life in the shadow of. Even though they were now much farther down into the valley below, the mountain seemed to stay roughly the same size.

“There were four people, two men, and two women, who left that mountain. No one remembers their names. Perhaps they were stripped of them when they left paradise, but of this you can be sure: They were strength, cunning, knowledge, and compassion.” Auberon's father stopped walking for a moment, and reached out to touch a small trickle of water coming down a rock from the waterfall above. “It makes one wonder what the mountain was left with after their departure.” Another pause. “We will camp next to the falls tonight.”

Auberon's father was by no means a small man, but he was already beginning to be dwarfed by his son, even in his adolescence. The waterfall they camped near the base of, however, threatened to swallow them both with just the mist it created. His father hadn't spoken since the cryptic comment about the mountain, choosing instead to communicate his intentions through pointing and vague facial expressions. Auberon had heard the story many times before, but in all his life, his father had never repeated himself unintentionally. “Strength and Cunning were our father and our mother, and it is said that when they stopped to rest, they carved the land to suit their purposes, and from their union sprung the entire tribe.” Auberon knew the entire story up to this point, so he had spent more time standing in awe of the waterfall than really listening. “I am an old man, and-”

The lack of the opening phrase, “And it is said that” snapped Auberon's ears to attention instantly, but his father had paused, leaving Auberon's ears little to pick up other than the roar of the water. “I'm left to wonder sometimes, how long Strength stayed with his children. I hear he traveled over the cleft, and left his mark there as well.” Auberon's father glanced off towards the more densely wooded valley below, and seemed to trace the river from the waterfall to where it disappeared in the jungle surrounding the nearby city. “I sometimes wonder too if Ninevah is as lost as we are; if our valley has seen the departure of Compassion as well as Strength...”