"Sing, little birdie, sing;
sing to the whole wide world"
Echoes of song, a distant voice. The clash of battle behind it.
"Sing, little songbird, sing–
the world is crumbling"
More sounds could be heard--a cacophony of explosive booms and writhing screams; moaning dead and mourning song.
But still, not a thing could be seen.
"It's falling, falling, falling
to the world's greedy heart;"
There was no land, no speaker, no wielder of weapons. Nothing but the dissonance of sound in the background.
"Darkness seeping in like blood,
freedom dying, falling apart."
Some new sound was arising amid the discord, unseen. It was another voice, harsh and commanding, tearing through the fragile strains of melody.
"So sing, little birdie, sing
and let the whole world know your song."
The music continued and this time the words were tantalizingly close. So close, so close! But the rasping voice overruled it. It chained it down, beat it to the ground. Forbade it from continuing on. It shouted and continued to shout, shaking the faceless earth with its omnipotent grip. And then the sounds faded, battle and all, as though fear had driven a new respect for the Shouter. And because there had never been anything there to see at the start, there now was nothing. Absolute, utter nothing.
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Flight (new version)
FantasyPart I of the Land of Green and Gold Trilogy The war between humans and Elder has ended in the disappearance of magic and the enslavement of those who once wielded it. Years later, a young spriggan named Max toils for his master, the olden days of m...
