I find in the wind, entrails of long forgotten stories. This one is thousands of years old, a story of the wind itself; but a story of love lost and sacrifices made – A story that follows doubt and anger; a story about what comes after endings that are happy, a story that you may know, but a story that was never loved. It is a story of the times when gods were men, and men were gods. Children who dreamed of becoming heroes actually did, in those days. This is a story of one such child.
It was a warm summer’s day, the day she was born, in a town that was small but prosperous and a home that was large but poor. She took her name from the silver blue of her eyes, Sapphire, but her mother would tell her that the jewel was named for her. She was spoilt and she was naughty, but she was beautiful and she was brave. The last of thirteen siblings, she was everybody’s favorite child.
There was a story they told about the seasons, in the town where Sapphire was born. Those were times when the seas were rough with minds of their own, and storms would come to take what they pleased. Years would pass with nothing but Winter; but when Summer would come, the Sun was always unforgiving and angry. People and trees would love nothing but Spring; but the Spring was never allowed to stay. Rivers would wait, and clouds would wait, and the bees would wait, and the ants would wait. But when Spring would come in Winter’s stead, Spring would always leave before the fest.
They told a story about Grey Winter and Blue Summer, siblings who never fought with each other. Sapphire would never believe them when they told her that Summer would only last for a few months a year, and Winter’s snow would melt away willingly. Spring smelt like flowers and the rain, and Autumn was red and yellow and purple all over. Then came the dark days. For reasons unknown, the siblings fell out. Some said it was the lust for power, some said it was lost loves. But for reasons that were never shared, the seasons dropped out of sync.
The Gods did all they could, it is said. They bullied and bargained like Gods know how, and when all this failed, they reasoned and negotiated. Eventually, they took sides: Rain and Lightning went with Winter, as did Beauty and some others; Fire and the Sun, War and Despair, these took Summer’s side. Love simply left. The fickle Wind played them both, making the best of their situation. The Moon was undecided as usual. Fate stood in the shadows laughing.
This was Sapphire’s most favorite story. She would make her brothers tell it to her every night. She would fight and argue with her friends about it. She would make her mother tell her about the Spring. With her friends, she would come up with the most elaborate schemes to bring the siblings together again. In all these schemes, Sapphire was the hero. In all her dreams, Sapphire was the child who would glue the world back together again.
The Moon was always watching her, but her interest waxed and waned. The fickle Wind was always listening.
Fate stood in the shadows laughing.
This a story in what I plan as five parts. Hopefully, I shall write one part a day. "I" is the Storyteller from here: The Adventures of The Storyteller: Blurb