Through the seas of Poseidon

I want you to experience what I have experienced. I have been a silent witness to the event below. I have stood at the sidelines and have been inspired by the event taking place. I stood with him on the same deck. I mingled with the crew and was one amongst them. I could see he was in pain but I could do nothing, and I shall do nothing...

http://www.flickr.com/photos/psygote / © Vineeth Kashyap

Lightning cracked the sky, lighting the rain as it fell from its abode. The sea gleamed in different shades of gray; shades that shimmered, glittered and those that danced wild. The wind tore the sails and they fluttered like curtains on a windy day. Freezing waters lashed the deck like a whip-lash of a pirate. Water from the brutal sea and from the furious rain became one. The ship rode up the giant waves and below.

I had seen this before. This was, but, Poseidon's wrath. I could taste the salt in the air we breathed...

Water danced as he staggered to keep his feet on the deck. He was unable to hold himself on to his feet. Medicine, from seaweeds made by one of the crew members, flowed trough his veins as blood. The salt from the sea and his sweat met. He was unsure as to whom the medicine was killing more, the disease or him. He stood close to the edge of the deck staggering and swaggering like a drunk whore but except, he was not. He leaned over to the side. He was falling. He saw a flash of the lightning and then it grew silent, it grew dark ...

I could sense that we were close. If we could just reach the Cape Cruce...

Everything was a blur, just like the fog on darker seas. The skies were black and stormy with thunders intruding the lashing rains. He could barely see. The crew ran through the chaos to steady the ship and to anchor. These were the last things he saw before it became dark all over again...

I watched from the shadows. He lay on the deck, others too busy. He was getting better, the weed from the sea...

Water parted ways from the ground with each step. He stepped on to the sandy beach. His each step seemed to rob all living creatures of their breath for a split second, reviving them with a living force, much stronger than before. He was the living force for his land. The life around seemed to welcome his presence. His faithful steed, more so.

His home beckoned. The son had returned...

Return of the Knight

The sun's presence was mild. The wind strong. Leaves were sent from their branches on their own journeys. The air made lovely swirls over the lonely land. Peace was disturbed by the howls of the wind. The coarse grain moved from underneath the horse's feet.

The rider eased off the beast...

His cape flew vigorously to his left. The scabbard lay still; but empty. He moved the cape away from himself and moved swiftly to the edge of the cliff. He clenched his fists deliberately. He stood peacefully though. The journey had taken him this far and he had a long way to go. The speech resounded through him as fresh as the morning dew. He had heard it days ago; through different voices. His Father had addressed the kingdom.

Photo by: srtrallybob

His gaze moved to the far reaches of the north-west. He could make out the outline of the fortress - magnificent and calm on the other side. He would reach there by nightfall. Dusk was on them and the moon was reaching out to the gray skies. His steed stood calm in the breeze. As he turned around to start off to his destination, the beast came to him. He quickly climbed on to the back of it. The steed pranced as if it were a sign of accepting its master's command and sped away in the direction of his new destination.

He was returning. Returning back to the Fortress of Solitude

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The Fortress of Solitude

I want you to experience what I have experienced. I have been a silent witness to the event below. I have stood at the sidelines and have been inspired by the event taking place. I ask you to join me and experience the event as it unfolds...


Gigantic pillars stood on either side of the long hallway. Like poetry on a pleasant day, the canvas of a starry sky filled the ceiling. The faint moonlight from the outside lit the hallway. The fake stars twinkled like diamonds on a newly wed bride. The floor gave away a gentle sliver of silver and the curtains swayed in the breeze. Shadows crept in and out with the whims of the clouds. The silence of the night mixed well with the periodic sounds of the night birds. Nothing could have been more poetic on this moonlit night...

There amidst the twilight, at the end of the hallway, sets of stairs seemed to lose to sameplace sublime. And just between the stairs, on an altar, lay a sword - Raw. Untouched. The light reflecting off the raw blade gave away a divine glow.

Photo by: nostromoo

Disturbed dust shone with His each step. The movement of his hair complemented the majestic walk. His cape danced with the breeze. Unseen eyes seemed to be awed by his presence.

He moved towards the altar. His hand reached out to hold the hilt. His firm grip knew the ways of the sword. He held the hilt against his chest. He knelt down, closed his eyes and bathed in the moment. He seemed to learn the story of what he held in his hand. He rose slowly, moved the sword above his head, and placed it in its rightful place - the scabbard tied to his back. He paused a moment and moved away from the altar. He ascended the stairs next to the altar and halfway through he could see the silver light of the moon partially lighting the steps... He reached the balcony. The balcony oversaw the Kingdom below.

He put his hands on the railings of the balcony and stared away into the sky...