The day dawned like most any other, the sun peeked above the craggy rock line of the towering mountains, leaving a jagged shadow across the valley. With the dawn came a soft breeze with a hint of humidity on the air. A glorious day. A fated day.
Within one such shadowed valley lay a large town. Morning breathing life into the people, who stepped from their homes to begin the days chores. Some feeding herd animals, others preparing their wares for sale. A regular day, or so everyone thought.
In one house, a crying voice awoke with the dawn and was quieted with soothing sounds. A baby crying for its mother on awakening, and receiving its mother's touch. Just another morning, or was it?
Not far from that house, just down the lane, in a small run down building, a young lady walked from a rusted doorway, her eyes barely open, when the wind touched her cheek. Her eyes flew open, alarm on her face. Something had changed. Something was coming. Something bad.
She looked around alarmed. Her ears could pick out the squall of the baby down the road, the sounds of sheep being fed, and shops opening their doors for the morning. All normal sounds to the common ear, but not to hers.
Ripple was different, one would say uncommon. Queer even. Her strangeness marked her, and followed her like a shadow. Things which didn't happen but once in a lifetime, happened all too commonly around her. A child would fall out of a barn loft, and land unhurt, or coins tossed would land on their edges and stay there. Indeed, the strangest of things, but the strangest were what remained unseen.
A deadly plague had hit a neighboring town, and seemed to spread without sign of stopping. Yet, even though people passed through, the plague never caught on here. Rumors of a white haired girl getting sick for an hour, then the fever passing without a trace were whispered. Ripple knew the truth of that particular rumor. The plague passed the town by, unmarked.
She lifted her nose to the wind, following an unknown sense, not smell but something deeper, and far more primal. In her wake, in each footstep, tiny blossoms bloomed, golden little flowers that only grew in her footsteps. Her path lead her east, towards the edge of town.
Something dangerous approached and Ripple wanted to know what it was.
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Dying Thoughts
I need to put this someplace.
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Ripples in Life
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~a very generous artist rendering of me~
~Fiat Lux~
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