Despair
Dark blue. A thick dark blue. This is what he saw when he opened his eyes; he knew not where he was. Further into the depths of this mysterious ocean he fell, having no power left to fight.. unable to resist the slumber now overshadowing his soul. His vision faded.
He coughed out red blood on the ragged ground underneath him as his oppressors dragged him along, darkness covering their faces from underneath their hoods. "Another dream.." He thought to himself. Feeling the rough ground cutting into his knees, he tried to stand up, but a quick blow to the head send him reeling to his knees once more. "Stay down, you fool. You are good for nothing, why then do you try to stand?"
Perhaps they were right. Why did he try to stand? Why did he fight? His spirit flickered, the orange flame slowly dying out.
More blood found it's way over his lips, dripping underneath.
Gloom
The young man ranaged to raise his head, gathering his strength somehow, to look to the heavens above. The sky was painted grey; dark clouds loomed overhead wept, letting rain fall beneath.
He felt the tears of the sky fall upon his face, flowing down his cheeks, as though the sky itself were crying with him.
Feeling faint, he bowed his head, looking at the wet green grass underneath be crumpled by his knees as his oppressors dragged him along. His vision faded.
Yellow
When he opened his eyes once more, he was greeted again by the green grass underneath him. Yet, this time, they were different, for the dew upon them twinkled yellow. Curiosity filling his eyes, he raised his head weakly towards the sky, finding the grey clouds parting, as though they were courtiers making way for the king: the sun.
Silhouttes of birds flew across the sky, free birds, not chained by oppressors.. not being held down in misery. The flicker of an orange flame in the man’s heart grew warmer, as though coming to life. “I see birds, and they fly free. They do not find themselves held down, nor chained, by opressors. They fear nothing, they fly freely in clear skies, as do they in storms.” He thought. “And the mighty sun, look how even gloom makes way for it.”
One of the robed men looked upon the lad, whose brown eyes had a tint of glowing fury in them. “What, brat?” He barked vainly.
Despair
Dark blue. A thick dark blue. This is what he saw when he opened his eyes; he knew not where he was. Further into the depths of this mysterious ocean he fell, having no power left to fight.. unable to resist the slumber now overshadowing his soul. His vision faded.
He coughed out red blood on the ragged ground underneath him as his oppressors dragged him along, darkness covering their faces from underneath their hoods. "Another dream.." He thought to himself. Feeling the rough ground cutting into his knees, he tried to stand up, but a quick blow to the head send him reeling to his knees once more. "Stay down, you fool. You are good for nothing, why then do you try to stand?"
Perhaps they were right. Why did he try to stand? Why did he fight? His spirit flickered, the orange flame slowly dying out.
More blood found it's way over his lips, dripping underneath.
Gloom
The young man ranaged to raise his head, gathering his strength somehow, to look to the heavens above. The sky was painted grey; dark clouds loomed overhead wept, letting rain fall beneath.
He felt the tears of the sky fall upon his face, flowing down his cheeks, as though the sky itself were crying with him.
Feeling faint, he bowed his head, looking at the wet green grass underneath be crumpled by his knees as his oppressors dragged him along. His vision faded.
Yellow
When he opened his eyes once more, he was greeted again by the green grass underneath him. Yet, this time, they were different, for the dew upon them twinkled yellow. Curiosity filling his eyes, he raised his head weakly towards the sky, finding the grey clouds parting, as though they were courtiers making way for the king: the sun.
Silhouttes of birds flew across the sky, free birds, not chained by oppressors.. not being held down in misery. The flicker of an orange flame in the man’s heart grew warmer, as though coming to life. “I see birds, and they fly free. They do not find themselves held down, nor chained, by opressors. They fear nothing, they fly freely in clear skies, as do they in storms.” He thought. “And the mighty sun, look how even gloom makes way for it.”
One of the robed men looked upon the lad, whose brown eyes had a tint of glowing fury in them. “What, brat?” He barked vainly.
Indignation
A fire of orange and gold suddenly came alive, fueled on by hope. Little orange specks flew around it as it swirled up, twisting and turning like a ravaging tornado; a living firestorm. Outside, the lad’s eyes lit up as though there were embers in them, prompting the robed men to pause and turn their heads toward him.
Indignation coursed through his veins, and the muscles of his arms showing definition as his fingers wrapped around the chains that held him, gripping them. The manefistation of his fury found it’s voice in the roar he let out; the white chains that once held them now ripped apart.
A silhoutte of living fire surrounded his body, in the form of an armoured man whose face was sheltered by his fiery helm. The lad looked at his oppressors, who took a few steps backwards, their glowing red eyes filled with terror.
“No more will you hold me down.” The man said, as he let out another roar which reverberated through throughout, making the very air tremble. The robed men fumbled in making symbols in the air, and within a few moments broke down to black ashes, being taken away by the swirling winds.
Blue lightning struck in the distance; a thunderous roar of applause given in the form of thunder. There, on a cliff, stood another man, armoured with fire as was our man.
