Darkness encompassed all, it was deep, impenetrable, and pristine. There was no sound amidst the darkness, no sensation or stimulation, only blackness. It was calming in its undisturbed serenity, and neither warmth, nor cold seemed to permeate it, an almost natural state of being. Slowly it became, it became less of darkness, and more of the void. Fear strikes, panic sets in as the void engulfs this once beloved blackness. Suddenly, sensation, a chill flowing from beyond the nothing, its true warmth now realized, and torn away as feeling assails everything. Gradually, the darkness faded, no longer the void, simply blackness, shapes and objects identifiable, if not obscured. Soon, even this shroud is lifted as a soft warmth begins to spread. Light.
The light reveals shape. Form and figure are now clear, understood. Walls of grey stone and green moss rise and converge into a domed structure. Old, unkempt, weathered but not shaken by time or being used, again and again. The iridescence grows, still soft and warm, but revealing, benevolent in its nature, casting off shadow. Fear retreats, calm is not reached, want and thought arrive, content no longer possible. Within the center of the domed structure, stands the source of the enlightenment, a statue, grand and beautiful, but showing its age. While its features had been weathered away by unknown or countless years, the statue’s figure was of a mature woman, beautiful and incredibly real in its proportions. In her right hand she held an orb, and in the left a piece of parchment hung, unfurled.
Shapes began to rise, not ones like the rock and moss of the temple, outsiders, borne to this statue, out of the darkness, and into the light. Armor clanked, appendages slid and dragged themselves across the cold stone, towards the glow and its warmth. New breath was taken, as each form began to rise and live. Born from darkness, into light, from void, to earth, from immaterial to concrete, once more life invigorated flesh and bone.
Wake. Up.
The light reveals shape. Form and figure are now clear, understood. Walls of grey stone and green moss rise and converge into a domed structure. Old, unkempt, weathered but not shaken by time or being used, again and again. The iridescence grows, still soft and warm, but revealing, benevolent in its nature, casting off shadow. Fear retreats, calm is not reached, want and thought arrive, content no longer possible. Within the center of the domed structure, stands the source of the enlightenment, a statue, grand and beautiful, but showing its age. While its features had been weathered away by unknown or countless years, the statue’s figure was of a mature woman, beautiful and incredibly real in its proportions. In her right hand she held an orb, and in the left a piece of parchment hung, unfurled.
Shapes began to rise, not ones like the rock and moss of the temple, outsiders, borne to this statue, out of the darkness, and into the light. Armor clanked, appendages slid and dragged themselves across the cold stone, towards the glow and its warmth. New breath was taken, as each form began to rise and live. Born from darkness, into light, from void, to earth, from immaterial to concrete, once more life invigorated flesh and bone.
Wake. Up.