Somewhere Among The Stars |
After his encounter with the tribal people and recruiting Claydle, the boy seeks out the Nest, possibly the birth place of Zephyr and her kind. And so he heads further Westwards carrying Claydle in his satchel all snug in its own pocket.
Zephyr who really admires her shiny harness was starting to tire from flying more often because frankly gold is heavy. Little did they know because of the bright reflective surface of the harness they drew the attention of greedy captain by the name of Black. Seeing something moving slowly and glinting brightly in the distance Black takes his ship and crew to investigate possible loot. Jaydin, Claydle, and Zephyr are captured by the airship The JackSaw. Captain black determines him to be a prince because of how loaded in jewels and gold he is, plus his bird with its gold harness. And so Jax being the idiot he is, doesn't kill Jaydin, instead planning on keeping him as hostage until he can ransom someone for his safe release. Jaydin plays along with it and convinces him that Zephyr was worth a large amount of money too hoping to save Zephyr. Both are tied down at the hull of the airship for several hours wondering if they would keep Zephyr safe. Knowing they would eventually discover the coordinates to the fake kingdom is just a jungle territory and he desperately tried thinking of a way to escape with Zephyr. He found none, not only that he lost hope of being able to escape Captain Jax's airship. Just as he did so an alarm sounds, blasting his ears and causing the ships crew to run wildly up and down halls. Red smoke filled the sky outside the window, and just barely out of it he could see some sort of balloon. Things go from seeming bad, to worse, as the floor began to shake with a horrible metal screech.
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During their time in the jungle, Jaydin wakes up on a bright foggy morning with his bird, Zephyr missing. Alarmed he follows her footstep impressions in the moss. He finds her pecking at a stone statue that was a very strange shape. He climbs on her and soothes her with petting, and out of the corner of his eye he sees something small move. Examining the statue more carefully he sees its a stone giant of some sort. at the center of its chest, laid a small mound of mud that moved as if breathing. Curiously he poked it, and jumped back seeing its head turn switfly towards him. In its... almost head, laid two large orbs that reminded him of the marbles his grandfather used to collect. The small creature clung tightly to the inside of the cavity, one again hiding its face.
Opening his satchel, Jaydin brought out a small amount of bread and offered it to the little mud person. Not knowing what bread apparently was the little one only stared intimidatedly. Jaydin smiles at him reassuringly and takes a bite holding the rest out for the little monster to try. The mud golem takes the bit of bread and adsorbs it in an odd fashion, apparently enjoying the treat. Deciding to leave the little thing alone he walks back to camp with Zephyr, only to find it had followed him from the safety of its stone. Deciding hes befriended it he starts taking care of it and gives it the name of Claydle. So there's this story on my mind about a boy and his giant hawk-like bird named Zephyr who explore a strange world by sky. Leaving to find more of Zephyr's kind, the boy embarks on a quest retracing the steps of his grandfather who originally took care of her. First he leaves a comfortable small home and heads off to the jungle where his grandfather found the chick and raised it. From there he encounters strange tribal people who get really excited and treat the two to a feast for no apparent reason. But things go from good to bad when they prepare the boy as a delicious sacrifice for his own bird. Zephyr shows a higher thinking intelligence that's not human, more similar to a crow's ability to problem solve. Zephyr frightens the tribal people who attempt to appease again with shiny bits of gold and jewels. Both the boy and bird are from then on pampered and the boy learns there is a connection between Zephyr and the tribal people through the hieroglyphics and images on the wall but doesn't understand what it means. The tribal people and himself speaking completely different languages is a difficult language barrier but eventually the chieftain describes a place similar to the nest, where they believe is the rest of her kind. With this and some very general directions north west, the boy heads off again declining most of the treasures except a small bag of jewels and Zephyr's gold harness she refused to give up.
authors note: I know this is a longer post but i really enjoy thinking about the story of Zephyr. A blank new world that can include just about anything, all discovered by back of a giant hawk. I love stories about mythical beasts and i think some of the story was inspired by the titles of Flight. Flight is a series of short comics having almost nothing to do with this story, but the covers are inspiring depicting a messenger on a giant bird. Yet the world is small, I found this fascinating. I just want to get it straight right now, this particular animation made me cry a little out of the bitter sweetness of its story. I won't spoil anything, but the story depicts my own fears and joys of being a writer or an artist. It shows the beauty of sharing reality and make believe alike as well as the significance of story telling through pictures or writings. Written, Directed, Animation, musical composition, and orchestra, all by Josiah Brooks, was fantastically done. If your interested I will post the link to his animation below. ↓
HERE The first stage of grief, my lungs seemed to stop working, I felt the pain below my jaw as if I were to cry. I was choked up, with so much to say in so little time I said a simple nothing at all.
Second stage of grief, there was no way any of this could be happening. It was happening if only the pain in my chest could wake me out of this dream. Third stage of grief, I begged God that he wouldn’t be taken from me. This is when the first tear fell hotly down my cheek as I was unable to hold it back anymore. I wanted him back swearing I would hate God if he didn’t listen to me. I felt a hand land on my shoulder, if only it actually comforted me. Sixth stage of grief, I felt like I was screaming, my blood felt on fire and my jaw clenched hard enough to hurt, trying to distract myself from the hurt I already felt. Author’s note: this piece is actually not a complete thought, I was just thinking about irony and how it really isn’t funny when the opposite of what we would expect. For instance, a silence being the loudest someone can be. We have all been through the loud silence of grief found in lost. I don’t like this piece very much mostly because it’s just sort of sad. I should just stick to the more positive stories. There have been several times where I have thought about not pulling the chute at all, which would result in definite death. Yet the idea seemed peaceful, a quick painless death as a drop from the heavens. I’ve done it so often I’m basically numb to the Icey touch of death. And yet I still pull the chute, every time. What I’m not numb to is the gratifying adrenalin I get when I fall faster, my body trained to handle the amount of G’s that could potentially knock out an unsuspecting first timer.
I felt the free fall, the period in time which causes a sensation of stillness. The times I like to laugh watching my feet with the sky below it, and to look back at the ground above which still makes my head spin dizzily. It was silent other than the wind, unable to hear my own hysteric laughter. Author’s note: I was thinking about what if the world was inside out, with the sky below us instead of above. And then I figured this is what skydivers see and experience all the time. And upsides down world full of a mesmerizing scene like walking on the clouds. I didn’t dislike this piece but i felt that with no experience skydiving myself or any references or interviews, it was not very accurate. It just didn’t seem to quite catch the adrenaline. You’re allowed to have no idea what to write about. Allowed to be a crappy author or even not have any style or flare to your writing yet. You’re allowed to be frustrated when the things of your imagination don’t quite hold as well on paper. You’re allowed to skip indentation and introduction. You’re allowed to be bad at grammar and struggle to put words together.
All of us have permission to suck at writing, because frankly writing is a difficult task. After all “A writer’s apprenticeship involves a million discarded words before he’s almost ready to begin.”-quote from David Eddings. Thus so long as you keep writing you can have hope of becoming a better writer. Author’s note: I didn’t actually know what to write and thought “Maybe I’m just trying too hard.” Thus this little piece of writing formed inspired by other authors encouraging notes for future authors. As an aspiring author I also feel the pressure and persistence of perfectionist opinions. The truth is no one is perfect, and neither is any writing ever written. Even Shakespeare made typos. I like the fact i wrote it more than the actual piece itself because it just adds a little confidence in being able to relay thoughts. |
AuthorFiction and science fiction short stories written by Alanna Shae. Reveiws and random writings also by Alanna Shae. Also inspirational works not done by Alanna Shae. Archives
April 2017
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