The Vibrant Chronicles: The quiet life of Green
Green had always known it was important. Creativity had created it out of mist and magic, and it was very, very important. Green was always "it" never she or him or they or anything else, not because it was disrespectful but, on the contrary, Green thought it made him rather respectable. It was proud to be an inanimate object, and prouder still, when it was wielded.
It was an heirloom, the most significant, and most beautiful of heirlooms, or so it always thought. Ir was a singular deer horse knife, or crescent blade; it had no counterpart as he had no parallel. It was not the bright green of grass or the starling green of leaves, but rather, a quiet, dark green, one that seemed to pulse. And in its green, there were streaks of blue and yellow and purple, but only when held up to the light.
It had been made of mist and magic and dark places, and when it was hidden in a cavern under the sea, it had marvelled at the bright fish and the many magical things of the sea, too hidden and too left for any humans to ever sea. Hidden, secret, beautiful things. But of course it was the most beautiful.
And one alarming day, it had been retrieved by an odd creature, half mer and half man, and he had passed him to the very first of the Greens, and he had become accustomed to living in velvet, and being presented whilst also being hidden. He had never thought he would have been wielded, until Yvonne Green had taken him, and had fought with him the very bravest of battles. And then he had been cleaned in moondust, and then put back. And now he was to be used again. By the newest Green, the one who didn't like to tell his name, as all names bind. He would not be binded. Not again. Green didn't mind, he didn't particularly care what the boy wanted to do with himself. As long as he was wielded with valour.
It was an heirloom, the most significant, and most beautiful of heirlooms, or so it always thought. Ir was a singular deer horse knife, or crescent blade; it had no counterpart as he had no parallel. It was not the bright green of grass or the starling green of leaves, but rather, a quiet, dark green, one that seemed to pulse. And in its green, there were streaks of blue and yellow and purple, but only when held up to the light.
It had been made of mist and magic and dark places, and when it was hidden in a cavern under the sea, it had marvelled at the bright fish and the many magical things of the sea, too hidden and too left for any humans to ever sea. Hidden, secret, beautiful things. But of course it was the most beautiful.
And one alarming day, it had been retrieved by an odd creature, half mer and half man, and he had passed him to the very first of the Greens, and he had become accustomed to living in velvet, and being presented whilst also being hidden. He had never thought he would have been wielded, until Yvonne Green had taken him, and had fought with him the very bravest of battles. And then he had been cleaned in moondust, and then put back. And now he was to be used again. By the newest Green, the one who didn't like to tell his name, as all names bind. He would not be binded. Not again. Green didn't mind, he didn't particularly care what the boy wanted to do with himself. As long as he was wielded with valour.
Comments
Post a Comment