Thursday, August 7, 2008

Prompt: Dead Tree (10/14/07)

This is another NaNo Prompt; thank goodness it's better than the last one!

(Oct. 14 ’07)

Prompt: Dead Tree

Time: 15 min.

Words: 417

The tree should’ve been cut down a long time ago, thought Zelda, her pure blue eyes peering at the dead structure. She was only half way through her trek through the woods, and she had planned to stop here for a brief rest. Her lithe body carefully picked out a way to the tree, the long blond hair gently moving with the breeze.

Briefly, she wondered what her twin sister, Zora, was up to right now. Zora had chosen to stay behind, and catch up on the spells that she couldn’t get. Practice and practice, that’s what the teacher had advised and Zora, had taken that to heart.

Zelda was brought back to the present by a loud sound; a squirrel had scampered down one of the dead tree branches. Grabbing a small flower that was used by the Eladelif family for generations as both a sign of their linage and their skill to make music, Zelda carefully brought it up to her ruby lips, blowing ever so gently. She was rewarded by the soft sound made only by that flower.

Zelda was the 15th generation of the Eladelif family, the royal musicians, and was the first girl to carry on the gift of wild music since her great-great-great-great grandmother. Her sister Zora had tried, and tried, to coax a sound out of nature, but it just would not heed her will, not like Zelda could.

As she sat down, with her back against the old tree, she brushed her long hair behind her pointed ears, pierced three times, two showing what family she had been born into, and the third one showed that she was a wilderness musician.

Softly, she played out a simple melody, enticing a Bardif bird to join in, adding to her hollow reed-like sound with its piercing high call. The two sounds melted together, joining as one, sending the harmony rising to the heavens, from which all gifts were given, as Zelda’s mother had once told her. She didn’t know how long she played, for her time had no meaning. Eventually, though, she knew that she would have to go on, finish the trek and reach home in time for the evening meal. Perhaps, if she hurried, she could help her sister Zora with her magic.

Zelda slowly got up, reluctantly dropping the flower to the ground from which she had found it. Dust to dust, she thought absently as the Bardif bird flew off, the sunlight glittering off its bright feathers.

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