Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
My Shorts, and Flash Fictions - 12. Origin of Spirit
He sat at the side of the clearing looking across the empty field, in the heart of the forest. Oaks, Pines, Aspens, and a variety of other trees ringing the grassy field, that was dusted with a scattering of wildflowers. Even though he was just born, he was already a fully mature adult, with knowledge of the world and beyond, powers to accomplish his goals, and zeal to help artists. He stood up to his full 6’6” height and flexed his athletically toned body. It was his first time moving, and a smile lit up his face. He looked at his newly formed hands and ran them through his shoulder length jet black hair. He laughed at feeling the sensation for the first time.
“There you are,” the voice said from his side, as another figure appeared in the clearing.
“Yes, I am here,” he said to this lady and smiled as they embraced in a friendly hug.
“What do I call you? I’m Abigail.” She asked, and led him towards the center of the clearing.
“Call me… Spirit. Yes, Spirit… That name feels right,” he said, following her.
The pair came to a small wellspring in the very center of the clearing, in a slight depression. You could not tell it was there, unless, you looked from up above. She motioned for him to sit, and they both did next to the well.
“Look into the Well of Worlds, and tell me what you see,” Abigail said, as she waved her hand above the water.
Spirit leaned in and looked deeply into the crystal clear depths of the water. Images appear of various different worlds, houses, businesses, and all manner of beings. Several stood out to Spirit, and he knew instinctively that these were the artists he was tasked to work with. Less than twenty, but all of them were special in their own way. Each was diverse in their artistic ways; with one a writer, a painter, and so on, each with a unique take on their gifts.
“I see my charges, the ones I will be a muse too. I see they are all special, and that they all need inspiration. I also see they are neither in the same time era nor on the same planet.”
“That is correct. You have a fine stock of charges to look after, and I look forward to seeing your work with them.”
Spirit smiled to her and stood up. He stepped out onto the surface of the water, not a ripple occurred from his steps. With a slight bow, he descended into the water and disappeared into time and space.
The End
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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