Ccille Vander's Awakening

There the three of them sat; his parents and him, reading together as they did every night before bed. The fingertips of his parents lined the either side of the milk white pages of a well kept book. His small hands covered by the darker hands of the man and women that sat on either side.
His eyes are wide taking in the familiar characters of script; listening to the calm voice of mother and father that took turns reading, almost humming the words.

“…and the Gods had for him a special task; one of such importance that they decided to hide him away until his was the rightful age to handle the responsibility. Someday, when he would be ready, they would pass down to him his sword-sharpened and ready to accompany him on the travels of a true hero…”

The boy’s face was vibrant in childish glee and yet so focused on each word that fell from her mouth. His mind swirled about in the imagery of page after page as he struggled to follow the reason behind the story.
Every fragment of him wrapped around the hero and the journey to come-the gods, adorned in gold and silver-the sword sharpened and reflecting it all to him deep behind his eyes, but why?

The women looked down at the small boy hanging her mouth open in pause. After a moment he looked up to her.

“Why’d you stop?” he asks.

“I believe it is your turn to read Vander.” She replies.

“I’m,” the images rolled to a dead stop, “I’m not sure what’s exactly going on. Why hide away the hero? Why do the Gods need him….I mean what’s the task anyway?”

Both parents sat back sharing a matching gaze on their child.

“Well, they have to hide him away-because he’s not ready yet…”

“Ready for what though?”

The father took the book up into his big hands, flicked through some pages and replied,
“For life Vander. They need to keep him safe so, when he is older, he can handle the challenges of life.”

For a moment the book reveals its underbelly as the man uses his finger to hold the pages apart. Vander is drawn instantly to the cover. It was a new book, something his parents had surprised him with only this morning.
An engraving, something like a bird comprised entirely of circles and swirls, a small child-maybe floating-in the center of the creature and in him a gold heart from which the swirls seemed to be spreading out from.


Vander paused to process-looking down at his own small hands and then back at his father,
“But don’t the Gods say it’s for a journey, he’s going somewhere isn’t he? Somewhere rather important…”


“Wouldn’t you say life’s a rather important journey? Now come on, read a bit and you may find the answers.” The man let the weight of the book sink into the boys lap and then peered down at him with the piercing gaze only fathers can give.

“Sure.” He looked down at the characters that looked more like pictures than actual words. “Its simple, just looked at the pictures right?”

“Now Vander, remember to be careful with the pages…they are old and fragile. This isn’t any old book, we, your father and I at least, think it may be the Ode a Ccille, the book this temple and its people were based around. This is its first read through in…well, over a thousand years. Its rather exciting wouldn’t you say!”

The boy didn’t turned away from the pages.

“Just let the story flow through you son, let it read you.” She smiled-her eyes closing slightly leaving just the twinkle reflection of light for him to look back at.

His eyes glowed with the gold hieroglyphics. He was just learning the language and knew he was in for a struggle.

“..so one day…many years…later.” Looking-father-mother-book. “The Gods returned to the boy, after a great while. He had aged since their…departure…and was at this time a young man.”

Slowly the pictures returned to him and now moved with the flow of the tongue.

“The Gods returned and with them the…stone?...no, sword and map he was promised at birth…that says birth right?”

“Yes Vander.” They both reply.

“Ok, so they brought the things they had promised him at birth and asked him, ‘boy of the golden heart, are you ready for that which we have seen you tenderly cared for?’”

The dark room suddenly erupts with light as the wall itself seems to burst open; they shield their eyes with their arms as a cascading black figure creeps in front of the light.

“Doctor Olerin we need you to come with us right away, we’ve had a breach in the secondary labs-please-hurry!”

The matching white coats lift on either side, his father is immediately gone into the light chasing after the shadowed figure-but the mother pauses briefly leaning in to grab his hand, which he holds out.

Her hand closes-fingers wrapping around his wrist, although he doesn’t feel it.

He lashes out, trying to take hold of her ghostly arms but each time his open palms fall right through hers.

He screams, still swinging violently, his eyes widening-he jumps up losing his balance- falling forward his hands out and empty-she’s already out the door though and in her hand- that of a hazy almost translucent child that looks back at him like a reflection in a fog stained mirror and then they are gone.

Slowly he falls through the deteriorating room around him, everything from the bed to the door blow away like smoke until he finally hits a cold stone floor

The book lands beside him-its pages bent in. Shuttering he paws out, taking hold the book, dragging it back to him. Wrapping his arms around the binding he falls into a violent shake-tears pouring.
Eventually the tears slow until just running down his wet damp cheek onto the floor as he disappears back into his dreams.



The boy’s body lay there cold and limp in the center of the stone room for sometime before slowly animating-starting with a spider like movement of the fingers. The eyelids rise thick and heavy with the leaving long sleep holding them down.

His eyes roll down the narrowness between lids as if only by weight alone; drool, dry and wet, lays around his open mouth-jaw soar-nose running. Blank, rightfully not awake at all, just there. The fingers wiggle in front of him, slightly blue and pale.
As if satisfied by that mere sign of life the boy’s eyes begin to close once more, drawing to a close.

…Vander…


The eyes burst wide-arms flaring to get him up. He looks round, trying to find the voice, the words even just a letter; but all around him just the brown and grey stone wall, its matching floor and ceiling.

“He…hello…hello!” His mouth dry and rasping, “HELLO!”

No reply, just the taunting dance of his own voice sliding round the circular chamber.
The room settles again to its dreary almost-empty self; leaving the boy standing alone.
The familiar dark thoughts sink back into his skin suffocating the already flickering embers of hope.
Falling to his knees the tears return. Although he can barely see himself he can feel himself, as if beside his own body holding onto-trying to hold it together.

He could feel himself drifting away again into the memories, the nightmares. The sight of the two bodies, those of his parents laying there on the laboratory floor-still warm when he had come over to hold them one last time-their hands clasped loosely, the fingers woven together in the final embrace-the red pools of blood so freshly spilt and spilling still across the floor and onto Vander’s knees as he had knelt beside them.
And from there his mad dash through the various winding halls of the lab. The sirens squealing-the screams-gunshots.
Dead body after dead body; the soldiers too trying to hold back the men in black and…and…and the red blade emblem all their coats!

Abruptly his eyes open. His tears lay before him in a puddle, reflecting a dull light. Placing his hand in the puddle he looks up to a dull yellow light that hangs above him gently granting him his first sight glimpse of his hands after a very long time.

‘Where is that light coming from?’

Back to the feet. His eyes shine back in vibrant greens as he looks up. He lifts his hands out at the ceiling, his small palms cradle the sides of the glow surrounding it until it rest in the bed of his hands.

It was as if he plucked an apple right of the branch and now he held it before him watching it spin and roll in his palms.

The room falls dark around him leaving just his outlined figure. His eyes are wide, mouth hanging on sagging hinges, the small ball of light just warming him. ‘A small star…’
Vander peers up again at the void above-back at the ball.

Ceiling

Ball

Dark walls

Ball

“What is this? What’s going on?” he holds back from blinking “…I don’t even know where I am! There was all the shooting…screaming. I kept trying to run away, but…”

He was running. Down the blank white hallways of the labs, one after another until charging through the open door that led to tomb. There was no one down there; just the glyptic characters on the stone walls-and the echo of what was going on above him. It had been so dark down there, with only the occasional utility light hanging and facing the stone.
It had smelt too; like the attic had back home or even the basement. The boy had always thought it funny that this was the ‘Temple of Ccille’, the Temple of Dreams.

He ran and ran even after he no longer heard any noise at all besides the pounding of his own feet. Always forward, always away.

The ball of light stopped-as if reading his thoughts and hearing a confession. Even without eyes Vander knew it was watching him, watching every jolt of his eyes-every breath was as a thousand words.


His breathing had grown deeper and deeper until finally weighing him down. His legs sank into a lull and his arms hung swaying in a limp fashion. So he had leaned against one of the walls in the far reaches of an alcove. There he fell apart, his heart bursting in anguish, his blood charging through the veins strong and fast enough to make him quiver.

His head spun while ringing filled his ears-enough for him not to hear the footsteps. A shadow slid across the floors and walls. Vander didn’t even notice as the man entered the alcove, his flashlight guiding him, until at last the man stood only an arms length away.

The figure lifted its hand, the light dancing down the barrel of his polished handgun and then onto Vander’s eyelids. He awoke suddenly facing the emblem of the red saber and the hollow white eyes of his parent’s murderer.

Suddenly the boy jumped-the man’s finger cracked trigger into handle-the four eyes shrunk in the flash-the slide released the empty shell-and the bullet cairned forward.

And then he had awoken here, in the circular prison of cold stone.

Vander bowed slightly as if receiving a slight relieve from the glowing orb that began to spin again gently.

“If only you were just a bit bigger my friend I may be able to see just where I am.” The boy sniffles leaning to wipe his nose on his shoulder. “…can you do that for me?”
The light churns once more around the fingers, faster than before, followed by a slight bounce.
He was fading now-between the light and yet another dizzy spell-allowing him to just accept the ball for what it was, although he didn’t know just what that meant.
The light bounced once more, but this time hung there; as if held up by a string it swirled and then gracefully lifted.
Up and up and up. The dark ceiling towers over head, looming and ready to reject but the ball just keeps on floating-like a balloon on its way to the heavens with a radiating ribbon like tail.

He watches in aw as the ball expands with its gaining height.

‘You are my sunshine, my one and only sunshine…’ a tear slides.

“…you make me happy when skies are grey.” The orb sparks with a jump in size.

“You’ll never know dear! How much I love you!” He staggers back fixed on the new born sun… “…just please sunshine…don’t go away…”

The room melts away, redefined or rather undefined by the light. Just a rolling black that continues on for as far as Vander is concerned is forever. He doesn’t pay mind though concerned more on the light.


“Are you lonely up there!?” he asks, still not grasping the reality of his situation.

The light continues burning.

“See you need…” He stops. The dark heavens begin lightening. Blue hues coming from all directions replacing the darker tones that once surrounded the light and the boy.

“…a blue SKY! Yah and…and some grass…” a green blanket rises around him. He bends quickly-the soft blades of grass running the length of his hand as he moves it hovering.

He looks up again to the light. “Oh you…are you doing this…?”

He’s nearly struck by a tree that rises up right beside him.

‘No…that was…me’

Hills rise in the distance and then as if the ground itself was inhaling Vander falls, the grass below him picks him up. Water splits apart the green running across the span of his vision.

‘A river and hills…and this tree…’ he flashes his hand out to the tree to find the branch has already lowered to meet him.

Vander pauses trying to keep up with the changing world. As if awakening for the first time-looking at the bowing tree-he begins to realize, he’s doing this.
His hand remains stretched out as his eyes move across the landscape, ‘How is this…’


‘Just keep going Vander…go find your answers…”

He takes hold of the rough bark for a moment and then the branch scoops him up and onto its hefty shoulder.

“Let’s go Tree-over there, let’s make something else!”

The ground cracks as the roots rise from the green bed plunging forth. Vander turns to see the ground seal up like a closing book.
The ground quakes as the tree tares onward through the grass and over the hills, the boy above watching the world around him come booming to life.

The giant orange leaves on the tree fall around him occasionally covering his eyes. He smiles watching the leaves drifting away-becoming violet and bursting into butterflies that follow the tree.

The indigo dressed tree and the black haired boy continue on chasing the excitement. The ground bows up and out springs boulders that transform into brown four legged creatures which gallop in all directions away from the tree. Bigger and bigger the bumps become until shifting from dirt to mammal. Odd sized dirt dogs and cats, deer and goat. A mound crepes up alongside, still remaining in the ground.
The boy turns to it, smiles and suddenly a coil strikes out and then two flag like ears and tusks. It passes them, the elephant climbing into birth right from the ground.

He shutters and then with the force of a volcano erupts with boyish laughter. He looks down, with bright eyes, at the river that he has finally caught up to. The tree’s front roots suddenly dig into the dirt causing it to tip forward, letting the boy climb safely down.

“Wait here Indigo…”

The boys legs struggle with the sudden change in footing making him clumsily fall towards the rivers edge. There the river’s head rests- a curling wave with thick white foam-spraying up at his face.
His wet hair hangs long against the side of his face as he peers into the silver-blue reflection. He cups the water with his dirty palms gulping it down.

Vander continues splashing the cool water over his face and arms. Swooshing and spitting and drinking some more until stopping with his hand above the river, holding a small puddle.
Two black orbs fixate towards his thumb in the pool and then scales slowly pad the top.
“I’ve never held a fish before, at least not a living one. It felt…almost metallic, and bumpy.” His fingers run the span of its forming back feeling its cold shining scales.

“Just like that!”

He drops it into the river, it shaking and jerking mid air. Splash!





It falls in and after circling faces the front of the river covering itself in the foam and air bubbles.

“Ok…company right…you want some friends…lets see…”

The boy looks round, his eyes falling on the small sandy shore. Speedily he throws handfuls of sand and pebble into the water. The surface of the water crashes in small waves that hide the world inside. He leans over watching the waters stir below the waves…waiting…waiting, the flash of a tail.
One two three, ten-twenty tails differing in color all bunched before the wake of the rivers charge.
The quick flash of the tail reminded him of the sunrises he had seen back home, blues and reds rising in waves.

“Go!” he waves forward and the river splashes down running again onward towards the horizon.

He jumps back to face the tree-the butterflies settled on its branches.

“Indigo, this…is this…”

“Heaven?”

Vander looks up the intricate swirls of the bark, branch after branch until resting his eyes on a hole in the tree.

“Do you even know what that is…I guess not, I mean come on, you are just a tree.” With an exhaling breath his face washes over with worry. He looks lifelessly at his hands.

“You don’t think I could-bring them back do you.”

Tree

He waves his hand over himself-his cloths changing into loose khaki pants and a fresh white shirt. With a blooming face he cries out,
“Yeah I must be able to!” And with that he stands straightt, his eyes closed and body shaking.


We were all reading together… just like we did every night before bed. The book had milk white pages-Ode a Ccille. I was holding the book-them holding me as we went. They were almost humming the words.

The image was so perfectly painted inside him. He could feel their hands holding his.

We were so happy then…now…we’ll be happy again. All I have to do is focus.

His face tightened with wrinkles, his hair flowing upward around his face and there grew an iridescent glow around him. Slowly the hair fell and the eyes opened, and there to his amazement…

…was nothing.
He looked around, the hills before him, the river behind, Indigo rooted on the side.

“Where…where are they!”

He tried again, closing tight-himself to the world-focusing more and more to the details of nights past. And again he awoke to find them nowhere to be seen.

“…Why…why isn’t this working!” Vander-with a sudden uproar lifted his arms and the hills followed.

He turns and the river is pulled out of the dirt and thrown up as well. Dirt, stone and water hover around him in large chunks that split with every scream that escapes him.

I want them now!

The ground cracks and lifts, forming a meteor shower of earth and water spinning over head.

Why can’t I have them back? I need them!

Suddenly-guided by the scream of the boy- the floating world falls back down like rain- explosions of fire and sparks. Fires split out from the ground all around him as the world begins quaking-in unison with Vander’s shaking hands.

The ground cracks below his feet sending streams of fire up at him-he’s lost in the blaze.

Two pale, almost pure white hands paw out of the wall of orange followed by the body of the destroyer himself.
His cloths sizzle and burn right off of him-revealing a white body lacking any definition of gender, just the glowing outline of muscles and his veins which crack through him like lightning. His hair flows downward-white and flashing as well. Rigidly he makes his way to the tree, leaving burning imprints behind him.


The tree is forced to bow as Vander lowers his hand allowing him to calmly walk up and sit again on the shoulder like branches.
He looks out over the burning wonderland, his eyes as pale and lifeless as the rest of him.

The fire curls hundreds of feet over him creating a blazing cocoon.

As the last of the flames harden into a grey stone Vander gives one final look at the black outer world that burns and screams as it’s swept up in waves of the inferno. The expression never changes-just the blank static expression of a person lost in thought.



He lifts a slender white arm pointing towards the opening-the book flies at him-burning.
Taking it in one hand he brushes his hand over the cover and the flames causing the flame smoulder. Vander holds the book in front of him, looking over the flawless cover and the illustration he had been captivated by nights earlier. He tucks it under his arm and closes his pearl like eyes.

Finally the flames seal grey-hiding away its master.




I will have them back and this world will do it for me, whether it wills me to be happy or not-nothing shall hold me back-nothing can hold back…



…a God…