Summoning
A light in the corner flickered, and all the shadows moved around me. the disorientation that inevitably followed ran through my already paranoid mind. I was afraid that the doubt in my mind might cause me to mess up my work.
Delicate as it was, I couldn't afford to make a single error. The only leniency I had was spent on the shakes coursing through my arm. My brush, held lightly in my hand, was slowly finishing the design I had painted on the floor. Intricately woven lines curved around me and outwards to the walls of the room. The closer I got to finishing it, the more real it all became in my mind.
The more I believe in their purpose, the more they glow with the power inherit in their purpose. A constant breeze begins to circulate around the room, blowing out the candle I had been using to light my work. As I reach to relight it, I realize that it isn't necessary, as the room is now filled with a soft, red glow that has no perceivable source. I could only imagine how it would look in a few moments.
With every little brush stroke, my heart beat a bit faster, a bit harder in my chest. I was almost constantly wiping my brow, so as to keep my sweat from causing the lines to run. Luckily, it seemed my nervousness was seeping out of me with my sweat, and my hand's shaking had calmed. I was glad, for I could not let my paranoia ruin this now, not after having come so far.
Finally, I laid down the final brush stroke, and it was finished. From my brush, and out along the course of the pattern I had made on the floor, a stream of red energy flowed through the ink. It's power ignited the air around it, so instead of a carefully painted design on the floor, the floor held a fiery snake, coiled to strike. As if to have read my thoughts, the flames began to writhe. The shape of my art changed, and the head of a snake - made entirely of flames - rose up out of the floor.
It's eyes, burning emeralds held within the flames, looked at - if not through - me. I felt them pierce me, and run their course through me. This manifestation had made it's way through me, reading me, understanding me. Then, I felt them burn inside of me, and with that it pulled back out of me, leaving only a smoking corpse where I had been.
Delicate as it was, I couldn't afford to make a single error. The only leniency I had was spent on the shakes coursing through my arm. My brush, held lightly in my hand, was slowly finishing the design I had painted on the floor. Intricately woven lines curved around me and outwards to the walls of the room. The closer I got to finishing it, the more real it all became in my mind.
The more I believe in their purpose, the more they glow with the power inherit in their purpose. A constant breeze begins to circulate around the room, blowing out the candle I had been using to light my work. As I reach to relight it, I realize that it isn't necessary, as the room is now filled with a soft, red glow that has no perceivable source. I could only imagine how it would look in a few moments.
With every little brush stroke, my heart beat a bit faster, a bit harder in my chest. I was almost constantly wiping my brow, so as to keep my sweat from causing the lines to run. Luckily, it seemed my nervousness was seeping out of me with my sweat, and my hand's shaking had calmed. I was glad, for I could not let my paranoia ruin this now, not after having come so far.
Finally, I laid down the final brush stroke, and it was finished. From my brush, and out along the course of the pattern I had made on the floor, a stream of red energy flowed through the ink. It's power ignited the air around it, so instead of a carefully painted design on the floor, the floor held a fiery snake, coiled to strike. As if to have read my thoughts, the flames began to writhe. The shape of my art changed, and the head of a snake - made entirely of flames - rose up out of the floor.
It's eyes, burning emeralds held within the flames, looked at - if not through - me. I felt them pierce me, and run their course through me. This manifestation had made it's way through me, reading me, understanding me. Then, I felt them burn inside of me, and with that it pulled back out of me, leaving only a smoking corpse where I had been.
posted by The Great Llama @ 05:28
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