light

[lʌɪt]

noun

something that makes things visible or affords illumination.

idiom

light at the end of the tunnel, a prospect of success, relief, or redemption.

The earth is shaking. People are being tossed around like pebbles on a drum, but the screaming has stopped. The world is bathed in silence, as its people bear witness to the destruction forced upon it by the Sisters. They remain silent as volcanoes erupt in the far west, lighting up the world like a strange sunrise. The lava flows from it like liquid fire, but still no-one moves. You can’t even hear their breathing any-more, and in the midst of the destruction, there is a beautiful serenity to be felt. Peace has swept over the earth; the madly boiling rivers are the only things to move, as they start their journey upwards, and away from the frozen scene.

Time is retreating. Like so many marionettes on strings, people rise and go backwards through the destructive actions that took them to this point. Injuries heal, and the dead are brought to life again. The Titans are returned to their prison, and the gods to Mount Olympus, and the scars on the earth begin to heal. Soldiers put away their weapons as if in a trance, and purse strings knit together to become whole. And for these people, this is where time rests.

For the Graeae however, it continues. Their powers gone, they are powerless to prevent the turning back of time, to something that has never been before. For so long they have been identical in looks, have sought to be different in soul, and now they are changing. Enyo’s bloodstains begin to fade, and her robes turn to white. They look like the goddesses they should have been, with their backs straightening, and the grey in their hair fading. Deino’s is black, as black as her soul used to be; Pemphredo’s is gold as the sun, like the bells she used to sound; Enyo’s is the colour of rust, like the blood that was spilled in her honour. Their cheeks are blooming with a delicate flower of pink, and their skin is as smooth as silk. They have no eyes, but they see anyway, through wisdom and redemption. They look at each-other in wonder; they have been the same for all of their lives, causing a bitter rivalry, and now they are so different. Light fills their vision, and they know the end is near. No words are needed for them to forgive each-other; it is the most natural thing on earth.

Finally, the Moirai can cut their threads, severing the immortality that has kept them on earth for so long. As the scissors close together, the Grey Sisters look to one-another, and each gives out a sigh. Their time on earth is done, and they can progress to the next light. Together they rise, and walk towards the gates of the underworld.

***

Graeae is now up as an entire piece under writing at the top! I’m thinking of trying to find some pictures to go with it, so if you’ve got any suggestions please tell me. Thanks to everyone who has checked this out, it really means a lot to me to think that people may be enjoying what I write!

Advertisements