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30shards2005-03-21 11:36 am
airian-reesu.livejournal.com) wrote in 30shards2005-03-21 11:36 am
Entry tags:
Sess+Swords - Tenseiga - #9 Sunset
Title: Until It Means Nothing
Rating: G! There is nothing squicky, or swear-y here…
Genre: Introspective
Chosen "Couple": Sess + Swords (Tenseiga)
Theme: #9 - Sunset
Words: around 1,104
Summary: There is much to think of on the ocean-side.
Note: I had more than half of this written before this community started, so it was easy to finish. ^__^
The waves smashed against the corroded beach in brief brilliant flashes of silver, ebbing and flowing in its endless waves
I don't really know what time means--I was not meant to know. I was created, and therefore I exist, and I truly do not know any more than that. Crafted with skilled hands, my being strengthened and stretched, tended alongside my brother. Then given this will, a sense of being and yet not. That is my starting point and that is all.
So when my Master's mind dwells upon this subject, this abstract notion of time, I cannot understand.
The sun was setting; casting everything in its dying red rays, shadowing the deep secrets of the sea to once more lay in only dreams.
I call him Master, although he is not. We coexist, tied to one another as this will of mine demands. And it is a will, for he is not always in the right and I must disobey. I have what I am meant to do and that is all.
Even if that means alienating him for a time.
He may feel thus, but nothing will come to pass. My will tells me so. We are tied together and this bond is inseparable.
I will be here.
The air was cool, almost crisp, sprays of fine ocean mist dusting chiseled facades like tears that are said to not exist.
I'd waited for him ever since my creation--that is what I was made to do. Once he was found, I was prepared. Prepared for the monumental task I had been charged with, prepared for the connection.
What I was not prepared for was the deep bonding. For my will is more than just a cause, it is infused with feeling as well. From where I know not. It is of no interest to me.
My Master was my world.
Even if he does not see it, it is true.
Footsteps in the sodden sand, matting the earth with light steps that were swallowed by the tide, and yet the steps still carry on.
I am the one always here. Time cannot contain my loyalty in its constricting cage. I do not have that fear.
That little retainer did. And more. A fear of being left alone, of failure. Of knowing that his chance had been for nothing and he'd die with a wasted life. Yet he continued to follow until he could not follow any more. Died with the quiet recognition and solemn respect he'd wanted forever.
And then Master kept walking.
That blade, tempered by the heat of fiery rage, the mighty beast of evil desires. It burnt out, its passion smoldering itself to ashes. It was left on the wayside.
Master forgot about it shortly after.
And that girl…that girl.
A gull cried overhead, a last piercing shriek before all went dark and its day was over.
I'd almost thought a portion of my work had been done when that girl came around. A bright ray of sunshine that even I could feel reflecting upon me.
Master was doused with it, basking in its glorious rays without even knowing.
Even my consistent prodding did not make him see. The girl kept giving and giving until her time was through. She faded away with a bittersweet smile of memories.
That did not mean he did not care for her. I know for certain that he did, or else I would have said nothing.
It is hard to teach a lesson when the pupil does not even make a minimal effort. Which he did, without realizing it.
One step at a time.
Rocks jutted out of the sand, wounds in the even surface that had yet to be soothed by the eroding waves.
Everything Master had come to know faded over time, turning into something new, something different. Always another step to take in whatever direction he chose.
And I will follow.
Not only do I still have a duty… I could not leave even if I did succeed. This is my place. Always here.
Death will not even tear me away. For, with me, Master cannot die. I will continue on existing in this duty, and he will continue to learn. That is how we work together.
*
He stood on the edge of an ocean, feet bare within the frigid waves, and watched the day end. The wind whipped around him, cold and creeping as it fingered skin that had been immune to its touch for years.
The sun was setting yet again and he watched its dying fire on the sea. Smoldering and spreading, touching all before living again. Everything felt it, those dead, those newly living, and those eternal.
The bitter twang of salt was in the air, a constant companion with the sea. With the waves that erode it all away, even as the sun once again rose above its waters.
He'd taken to watching the sun set. He didn't know when, but when never meant anything. At least not anymore.
He wondered, briefly, why it was always the sun's leave taking that drew him, not it's coming. But, like many things, that thought drifted off to become one more short-lived gull cry in the back of his consciousness. Forgetting was such a simple little thing.
He wanted to cross that ocean someday. He decided this on the impulse, taking firm steps into the driving waves as if he could leave now. Maybe board one of those foreign ships that touched upon the shores, perhaps just alight in the air and keep going until he hit land or died trying.
But, whatever he did, those sunsets would always be there. And that stopped him. Knee deep in the ocean, wet with foam, saturated with ambitions, he simply stopped and looked down, seeing the reflecting colors glittering.
So many colors. So many years.
He would go, yes. He would cross that sea one-day; stretch that expanse numerous times until it meant nothing.
But he wouldn't go yet. Because there was still something in these waves for him, here. Bittersweet, perhaps, but there. This was his homeland, after all. He probably had a few years left until it meant nothing.
He could wait. He had the time.
His hand found its familiar perch. He knew the texture of the leather to the smallest tear; the faint engravings upon the end pommel were engrained in his very fingertips.
He should have tossed it out to sea, then. Should have unburdened this life. He should have hated it.
But he did not.
This blade did not reflect the sunset. It never would.
Sesshoumaru sighed. "Tenseiga…"
--
*boats are referring to the earlier trade ships. I think they were Portuguese...
*I thought about cutting out the first half, but in the end decided not to. Should I have?
Rating: G! There is nothing squicky, or swear-y here…
Genre: Introspective
Chosen "Couple": Sess + Swords (Tenseiga)
Theme: #9 - Sunset
Words: around 1,104
Summary: There is much to think of on the ocean-side.
Note: I had more than half of this written before this community started, so it was easy to finish. ^__^
The waves smashed against the corroded beach in brief brilliant flashes of silver, ebbing and flowing in its endless waves
I don't really know what time means--I was not meant to know. I was created, and therefore I exist, and I truly do not know any more than that. Crafted with skilled hands, my being strengthened and stretched, tended alongside my brother. Then given this will, a sense of being and yet not. That is my starting point and that is all.
So when my Master's mind dwells upon this subject, this abstract notion of time, I cannot understand.
The sun was setting; casting everything in its dying red rays, shadowing the deep secrets of the sea to once more lay in only dreams.
I call him Master, although he is not. We coexist, tied to one another as this will of mine demands. And it is a will, for he is not always in the right and I must disobey. I have what I am meant to do and that is all.
Even if that means alienating him for a time.
He may feel thus, but nothing will come to pass. My will tells me so. We are tied together and this bond is inseparable.
I will be here.
The air was cool, almost crisp, sprays of fine ocean mist dusting chiseled facades like tears that are said to not exist.
I'd waited for him ever since my creation--that is what I was made to do. Once he was found, I was prepared. Prepared for the monumental task I had been charged with, prepared for the connection.
What I was not prepared for was the deep bonding. For my will is more than just a cause, it is infused with feeling as well. From where I know not. It is of no interest to me.
My Master was my world.
Even if he does not see it, it is true.
Footsteps in the sodden sand, matting the earth with light steps that were swallowed by the tide, and yet the steps still carry on.
I am the one always here. Time cannot contain my loyalty in its constricting cage. I do not have that fear.
That little retainer did. And more. A fear of being left alone, of failure. Of knowing that his chance had been for nothing and he'd die with a wasted life. Yet he continued to follow until he could not follow any more. Died with the quiet recognition and solemn respect he'd wanted forever.
And then Master kept walking.
That blade, tempered by the heat of fiery rage, the mighty beast of evil desires. It burnt out, its passion smoldering itself to ashes. It was left on the wayside.
Master forgot about it shortly after.
And that girl…that girl.
A gull cried overhead, a last piercing shriek before all went dark and its day was over.
I'd almost thought a portion of my work had been done when that girl came around. A bright ray of sunshine that even I could feel reflecting upon me.
Master was doused with it, basking in its glorious rays without even knowing.
Even my consistent prodding did not make him see. The girl kept giving and giving until her time was through. She faded away with a bittersweet smile of memories.
That did not mean he did not care for her. I know for certain that he did, or else I would have said nothing.
It is hard to teach a lesson when the pupil does not even make a minimal effort. Which he did, without realizing it.
One step at a time.
Rocks jutted out of the sand, wounds in the even surface that had yet to be soothed by the eroding waves.
Everything Master had come to know faded over time, turning into something new, something different. Always another step to take in whatever direction he chose.
And I will follow.
Not only do I still have a duty… I could not leave even if I did succeed. This is my place. Always here.
Death will not even tear me away. For, with me, Master cannot die. I will continue on existing in this duty, and he will continue to learn. That is how we work together.
*
He stood on the edge of an ocean, feet bare within the frigid waves, and watched the day end. The wind whipped around him, cold and creeping as it fingered skin that had been immune to its touch for years.
The sun was setting yet again and he watched its dying fire on the sea. Smoldering and spreading, touching all before living again. Everything felt it, those dead, those newly living, and those eternal.
The bitter twang of salt was in the air, a constant companion with the sea. With the waves that erode it all away, even as the sun once again rose above its waters.
He'd taken to watching the sun set. He didn't know when, but when never meant anything. At least not anymore.
He wondered, briefly, why it was always the sun's leave taking that drew him, not it's coming. But, like many things, that thought drifted off to become one more short-lived gull cry in the back of his consciousness. Forgetting was such a simple little thing.
He wanted to cross that ocean someday. He decided this on the impulse, taking firm steps into the driving waves as if he could leave now. Maybe board one of those foreign ships that touched upon the shores, perhaps just alight in the air and keep going until he hit land or died trying.
But, whatever he did, those sunsets would always be there. And that stopped him. Knee deep in the ocean, wet with foam, saturated with ambitions, he simply stopped and looked down, seeing the reflecting colors glittering.
So many colors. So many years.
He would go, yes. He would cross that sea one-day; stretch that expanse numerous times until it meant nothing.
But he wouldn't go yet. Because there was still something in these waves for him, here. Bittersweet, perhaps, but there. This was his homeland, after all. He probably had a few years left until it meant nothing.
He could wait. He had the time.
His hand found its familiar perch. He knew the texture of the leather to the smallest tear; the faint engravings upon the end pommel were engrained in his very fingertips.
He should have tossed it out to sea, then. Should have unburdened this life. He should have hated it.
But he did not.
This blade did not reflect the sunset. It never would.
Sesshoumaru sighed. "Tenseiga…"
--
*boats are referring to the earlier trade ships. I think they were Portuguese...
*I thought about cutting out the first half, but in the end decided not to. Should I have?