Author Games: Path of the Guildpact

Task Five Entries: Azorius-Simic

Newt-Ella Doe-Knott

As I lay, still, in my rest, I feel each and every breath. Rise and fall, up and down, none and all, smile and frown. The world blurs, the ground spins, and my consciousness falls into what must be a dream; for if it is reality, then life as I know it has lost all sense. This is entirely possible, of course – some would even say likely, though my optimism prevents me from doing so – but I cannot yet consider that. I will not consider it.

I am a stream. Strange, I know. I still don't quite understand what that means, but there's no denying it. I can feel myself flowing endlessly – or what feels like it, anyway – far beyond the reach of my own body. It's a curious feeling, really; somewhere between a stretch and a tickle, but a mixture of the two as well. It doesn't quite hurt, but there's a pulling sensation all over my body. Despite this, however, I feel at perfect ease. Calmer than I've ever been. Whatever magic this is, I hope it never stops.

Around me, beauty lies everywhere. The trees that tower on either side of me glisten in the sunlight. Creatures hop between them every now and then, appearing and disappearing within the blink of an eye. Not a cloud floats in the air; the sky flashes the purest of blues, in a way that I've never seen. It could be heaven – it might be. I have never seen nature look so pure, so undisturbed. Is this what it's supposed to be? Even when I visited Selesnya, the world never seemed this pure. Can I stay here forever? I hope so. I can picture it. Hours lying in the sun, flowing without restraint, just being. Uninterrupted. Free.

I flinch as a stone falls into me, tearing through my surface. I've felt cuts before, but this isn't the same; this feels more like being stabbed with the tip of a knife, pushing through my skin until it finally gives in. Normally, I might grit my teeth, or let out a hiss, but I have no mouth. I am nothing but my flow. So, instead, I just endure and wait for the pain to go away, but it doesn't. It changes. Rather than a piercing, the stone feels more like an obstruction; like a sore throat that refuses to heal, and which lets out a sting every time I flow over it. Calm down, Newt. It'll pass eventually.

But what if it doesn't?

A second stone pierces through, slightly larger than the other. A rock, next, maybe the size of a fist. They begin to fall from the skies, growing greater and greater with every moment. What did I do to deserve this? As rock after rock tears through me, pounding through my skin and doubling me over forwards, backwards, sideways – winding me around at random, really – I want to scream. As they clutter my body and slow my flow, I want to cry. Every moment, once relaxing, becomes strenuous and painful. Still, they fall, one after another, breaking me, blocking me. I wish my mind would go black, but I stay all-too awake. When will this end?

It is only when a boulder the height of a large dog rips through me that a splash lands on the shores on both sides of me. The grasses wither away and die as my water strikes them; the flowers between them crumble to ashes. Still, the boulders continue, until I realize that they have filled me up. Where the first stone had fallen, a wall has arisen, blocking my flow altogether. I smash and slam against it, but I cannot get through. It feels as though I can't breathe, but not quite; I don't think I could die from this. Eventually, my body would grow accustomed to its shortened span, and my flow will shrink to a new normal. But, until then, the pain feels like it's too much to bear.

It isn't until I hear a crack echo from the first boulder that I realize what my fate holds. That I realize what will happen if the wall cracks. My flow has grown stronger and stronger with my pushes, and, once I have cracked my obstacle, it will be too strong to contain. I look over to my shores, once beautiful, and now the grave of what the world could have been, had I not corroded it. Suddenly, the pain that comes from holding my breath is not caused by the wall, but by my own will, stopping myself from going any further. I can't do this. All I'll bring is destruction. That can't be who I am.