Flying

Flying 1 and 2

The black horseman was a mere dot on the shining beach. The ocean was emerald green with soft waves rolling in with muffled thunder, churning the water into gentle swirls of foaming locks of Elvin hair that twisted musically at the edge of shell gems. The sand was warm to her touch, each grain holding a spark of the sun. She stood for a better look and saw that the horseman had become more than a speck. She could see the legs of the black stallion furiously throwing the sand into the air with every stride. She could see that the rider was dressed in black and rode with a square shield on the left arm. She could see the long blade sword in a scabbard over the left shoulder to be snatched when needed by the right hand. The rider bore down on her growing in size as if she were sinking to the dark bottom of the sea in a relentless undertow. The redness of his eyes seemed to shine through the slits in his spiked helmet.

She put down the sand dollars that she had carefully gathered, taking great care not to break any with a careless slip. She buried them carefully near a wild stand of brown sea oats which waved merrily in the soft breeze. The beach would keep the precious jewels of the sea safe, for it was her beach. Her beach alone. Who was this intruder with the red slits for eyes? There was malice in the air. The sun began to be strangled by leading fingers of dark clouds which outraced the rider, even as fast as he was advancing. A shadow passed over her and her shiny white satin carpet of sugar sand turned into grey velvet of despair. The musical foam of the gentle waves became green spittle on top of gaping, gurgling mouths that hand slimy fingers sliding up the wet sand; open hands clawing at the beach edge, reaching for her.

Kinesis turned in a circle. The dunes with their larger stands of golden sea oats were too far away, and besides, they would offer no escape. She gathered her white skirt up around her waist and began to run down the beach away from the black rider. Her shirt and its attached shawl flew behind her in a flutter, white flags in the tormenting wind of an approaching storm. The shadow streamers of clouds which had darkened the beach stretched out ahead of her, but there was one white bright ray of light which sliced its way down to the curves of the waters edge. If she could just make it to the shard of hope cutting its way through the clouds. She struggled to make her feet and legs move faster, but they seemed to be sinking more and more in the soft sand, robbing her of haste. Even the air seemed to press against her, trying to push her back. For a second, she thought that she could see herself from the sea, a moving image immersed in a slow motion liquid, legs and arms pulsing to the music of a slow waltz, while the rider pummeled through the shallow water pools closing the distance.

Flying 3

The muscles in her legs began to cry a burning song of torment as she willed them to move faster. Breath coming in ragged gasps, arms flailing with each step in the uncertain sand, her mind racing for the hope, her senses feeling the blackness swelling behind her. She thought a panic slash through her mind, �Should I turn and face the rider?� A snatched glance back over her shoulder revealed the dark omen reaching for his sword. �Am I to die on my paradise?� came the anguished cry from her lips. �Am I to die and not know why?� Tears came to her eyes, not only from the pain of salt spray from the fountains her feet made in the shallow surf, but from the hopelessness of unfair condemnation. The shard of hope was closer, but she could feel the thunder of darkness in the sand as he closed in.

(to be continued)

Flying 4

Her breath came out in half screams, half cries. She was pushing toward the shard of light with all her soul. Bits of sand and seaweed covered her legs and dress giving her the appearance of a running washed up doll that had spent days adrift in the sea. The thunder of hoofs grew louder, louder, louder. She could hear the deep throated intakes and snorts of the great horse. The darkness of the rider pressed on her back like ink sinking into a white page of parchment. Just a little more, a step. Just another long, quick step. She threw a look over her shoulder and saw the fury of her beach and surf being slashed into streaming ribbons of sand and spray. The rider held his sword up. She was near, oh so near, but would there be time? She closed her eyes, swallowed her breath, and leapt for the shard, her arms spreading back and wide, swan wings. But, she heard the ripping sizzle as the sword cut through the air.

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Flying 5

The light shard was a sliver of screaming brilliance just inches from her left hand as she strained to twist towards it. With every ounce of power, she willed her hand to slip into its silver beam. A cloud of despair struck her for a bullet instant as she thought that she had missed the mark, but her fingers disappeared into a flash whiter than lightning as they touched the shard. In that split moment of life at the edge, she felt herself being drawn into the light, pushed up at a speed that left the beach behind in a blurred blink. But, in that blink, she had heard the sword cut through the shard behind her. It did not matter, though, she was in the shard. She flew like a gull on the updraft, arching her back, spreading her arms into wider wings, head up, crystal blue eyes wide open in awe of the speed, up, up she went into the opening of the clouds. Oh, the feeling of flying free, to leave the world of hurt and darkness behind that had invaded her beautiful beach. The thrill, the beauty, the power, the feeling of flying was beyond dreams.

She glanced back as she went through the opening in the clouds. She was buffeted slightly by their gentle touch. A black spot of the beach told her that the rider was looking up at her escape into the world above the clouds. �Who is this black rider who has come to my world?� she asked herself as she lowered her left arm to spiral joyfully up above the tops of the clouds into the friendship of the sun. She thrust her head back, curved her left hand as a gull bends its wing, and looped over to drop down onto the edge of the top of the highest cloud. She landed with a floating touch. It felt like soft, moist wisps of sky fabric. The clouds below began to part and she could see that it was because the rider was returning to the spot from whence he came. She could see the dotted lines made in the sand by the horse. The rider turned and followed his beginning tracks to the edge of the beach where he, What? Disappeared. He disappeared right at the edge of the dunes.

Kinesis knotted her brows, spread her arms, eased forward to drop off the edge of the cloud and flew lower to sit on the soft bank of a sea breeze cloud. �Where did the rider go? This was impossible,� she thought to herself, pulling back her golden hair that had tangled itself into swirls of disobedience that tried to block the vision of her eyes.

She would have to go even lower and see what had happened.

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Flying 6

She strained her eyes to detect any footprints on the dunes past the edge where they met the beach, but she could see no tracks. The dotted lines simply stopped at the rising front of a dune that had a covering of brush around two sides, giving it the appearance of an old bald man.

�There is magic mystery here,� she thought to herself. �There must be some sort of entrance that I cannot see from here. I could probably find where he covered his tracks if I got closer. But, that would mean returning to the beach and going to the bald man�s head.� Her face was a taut grimace of worry and curiosity. She could not tear her eyes away from the tracks that stopped dead in the sand.

She saw a bright shard of light trace its way across the beach. It was heading in the direction of the bald man dune. She flew from beam to beam to it. Grasping the shard with her right hand and curling around it, she slid down quietly to the beach, landing with a soft thump and gentle run. The dune was only a few yards away. Two sets of horse prints, one coming, one returning etched themselves into the sand right at the dune�s front. But, there they immediately stopped. Nothing was on the smooth sand going up the dune, yet there certainly should be. She inched closer and closer. Now only a few feet from the origin of the tracks, she could see that the air, no, the whole vision itself of the dune seemed to quiver as if she were looking through liquid glass. Slowly step by easy step, a cat stalking a bird, she crept up to the shivering glass. She blew on it and it rippled, then became taut, then rippled again as a gust of sea breeze touched it. Finding a long grey stick of driftwood, she pushed it through the glass. It disappeared into the vision of the dune where it touched and reappeared when she pulled it out.

�Ah, this is, indeed, a wonder. Should I touch it with my fingers?� she thought to herself, her lips pressed into a tight line, more wonder and curiosity than fear. She held her breath, then released it softly to steady her hand as it moved towards the glass.

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Flying 7

Her hand was held fingers to the sky. She did not want to push her fingers through, but merely touch the surface with the palm of her hand. Only a fraction of an inch away from the glass vision of the dune, her hand made no reflection; the mirage was perfect. Taking a deep breath, she pressed her hand onto the surface. There was a tingling sensation, which was similar to putting one�s hand on the surface of ice water, but without the cold feeling. In fact, there was a slight warm pressure that enveloped the parts of her hand that pressed, and then went a little bit into the glass. She looked in amazement at her hand. The palm and parts of her fingers that were through the glass had simply vanished, leaving only the back of her hand visible to her.

�This is deep, dangerous magic coming to my beach,� she thought to herself. �I could pull away now, go on and hope that the glass will vanish with time. But, I could travel through and see the other side, the rider�s world. Hold,� urged a voice of prudence far away in the back of her mind. �The black rider could be on the other side waiting. It would be best to leave,� Another voice, this one louder, spoke up, �Go ahead, you are a powerful Elven Queen. You should have no fear. Besides, don�t you want to know what is on the other side?� Standing torn between impulse curiosity and prudent reason, Kinesis swayed towards and away from the glass. Finally, with a shake of her head which tossed her hair back in a sweeping flame of golden ribbons of defiance, she thrust herself through the glass.

(to be continued)

Flying 8

It felt like being brushed with a warm felt cloth that seemed to gently caress her body as she went through. In one quick step, she was cast into another world. The darkness around her was thick, for it came from a deep woods forest with trees of mammoth oaks that towered above her into a canopy of thick green leaves, traced on the edges by the smatters of yellow green hopefuls of sun beams trying to push through. Ahead was a clearing with a bright waterfall of light pouring in, lighting a thick carpet of green grass that sparkled with beads of diamond dew. Tall sunflowers stood in a circular guard at one end of the grass; yellow soldiers with black eyes looking up at the sun.

She turned quickly to see the beach behind her, but was met only by the vision of more trees footed by wisteria vines encircling their trunks. But, she knew the beach was there; her skirt had swung through the vision and had disappeared only to reappear and swing back around her. The movement caused the vision of the trees to ripple as if they were wind whispers distorting a perfect reflection of a mountain pool. Taking a part of her skirt, she tore off a strip about as long as her arm and wound it around the trunk of a small sapling right in front of the glass vision. It would serve as a marker of escape. Then, she turned around to fathom the whole deepness of the woods.

Looking keenly from side to side for any sign of the dark rider, she slowly moved toward the grassy carpet that was fifty feet in front of her. She could see horse prints coming and going from it to the glass vision which lay behind her.

�Careful, now,� she thought to herself. �Leave enough space and time to get back to the glass and through to the beach where there will be shards of light for a quick escape to the clouds.� Her body was tense with each movement as she placed one foot silently in front of the other. She looked again at the trees. They were of such size that were she five persons, not one could be reached around by holding hands. The air was moist and loamy damp, clean, but not crisp as it was on her beach. Rather than the salt spray smell of her beach, the woods had a deep musky odor of tree bark. The ground was thick with leaves that made themselves into a patchwork of wet and dry softness. But, most of all, she noticed the silence. It cloaked her ears like down pillows held against them. She had the feeling of being in a cathedral of silence of the deep woods.

She felt it before she knew it. There was a presence behind her. She dipped her head so that she could see the reflection of what it was behind her off of the silver ring on her finger. The black rider. She spun around to face him.

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Flying 9

He was between her and the escape to the beach through the glass vision marked by her white ribbon. With the slightest movements of his fingers on the bridle, he turned his horse sideways across the path to send the message that the way back was blocked. No word was spoken, but the meaning was clear; he would not let her pass.

�What do you want from me,� exclaimed Kinesis through clenched teeth. She was frightened at the dark peril which stood in granite pose, an obsidian mountain. But, she was angrier at herself for not only being such a fool to enter his world, but to let him slip up behind her. This feat had never been done to her before. Never, even when some of the Elven princes tried to make her feel less equal to them by trying to sneak a kiss from her in the dead of the night. His stealth and that of his horse must be extremely well developed for her to have not even heard the slightest sound. It was only her second sense, her feeling his presence, that had revealed him.

�What do you want,� she said sharply, sweeping her hair back and standing in a runner�s stance, ready to move at the hint of a mistake in concentration by the rider.

�It is simple,� came the muffled, deep reply through the visor. �I want you. I shall take you back to my castle,� he said in words which felt to her like huge waves crashing on her beach during a bad storm.

�And by what right do you think that you may claim me, dark rider?� Her words came with the easy flow of wind through trees without leaves: steady, certain, with a fortitude that could be felt, but not seen.

He leaned forward slightly. The leather of his saddle and bridle shifted, but made no sound. �I claim no right, save your beauty.� The red slits of his visor seemed to radiate a heat from the eyes behind them.

�If we are to talk about my destiny, then you should not speak down to me, but dismount and meet me at my level,� said Kinesis firmly. She held her eyes on the red slits.

�That is proper. But, our words must be short. You do not know this world. It is very different from yours and terrible dangers reside in every crevice,� he spoke quickly. And in the time it takes to clap hands, he had spun his horse in a circle taking in all the surroundings.

Kinesis had tried to move in that split second, but the horse saw her thrust to one side and completed the circle sweep with a quick step to end up where she would have gone.

�Do not do that again,� said the rider. �I shall dismount, but should you try to get by me, Fire, my horse, will block your move, which could harm you.� With a quick kick upward of his right leg up and over the saddle, he slid down (his back to Fire making the left side of the saddle a sort of sliding board) to the ground to face Kinesis.

She had not noticed �what with everything happening so quickly�just how big the horse and rider were. He was still fifteen feet away, yet he towered over her as one of the huge oaks in the forest around her loomed over a small sapling. Fire was even larger, for the rider�s head just topped its withers. The horse was a giant, though it moved with the agility and grace of some of the quickest gulls on her beach. They were marvels of power.

He began to slowly walk toward her.

�Stop there,� she said. �Do you plan to force me to go with you?� she asked in a tense voice, dropping her head slightly.

The dark rider paused for a second, shifting his weight to his right side. �We shall see,� came the subdued, but firm reply.

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Flying 10

�Then you shall have to take me by force, if you can,� said Kinesis. As she spoke the words, she thrust out her right hand to point the index finger at the rider. She spoke the words, �As ice!� From the tip of her finger, a streak of white liquid ice shot forth, freezing the air around it in furious flurries of sleet and tiny snow flakes.

The rider reacted as he had known what she was planning to do. His shield went up as the cold jet left her fingers and deflected the stream, though it had the strange appearance of flaming white cold tongues of steam enveloping the shield.

Kinesis did not hesitate a second, seeing that her first attack had failed. Her right hand flattened palm up. She blew the worlds over its palm towards the rider�s legs. �As hot coals!�

Again, it was as though the rider could read Kinesis� mind. He dropped to one knee, shield up and the coals crashed against it to settle in a glowing heap at his feet. In another moment, they had turned to a smoldering grey ash.

Kinesis was stunned. No one could be as agile and quick as this rider. No one. She had never been defeated in combat. But, could he resist her secret weapon, the sleep charm? She looked at the red slits and let her eyelids slowly drop half way over her eyes. She spoke in a whisper so quietly distant and dreamlike that its nightingale lullaby could be heard throughout the whole forest and yet its singer not be located. �The peace of sleep calls you,� she sang, willing the rider�s mind to savor called up daydreams. Crystal blue tremors of words of the patter of rains on a still pond ran from under her heavy lids and flew in cushioned air to the red slits.

For a brief moment, the rider swayed his left side. His shoulders began to slump and ease their tension. Her charm was working. Soon, he would drop over in a glazed stupor. Suddenly, he shook his head and banged his right fist against his helmet. He turned the red slits directly towards Kinesis� eyes. He gave a small bow. �Very good. I have never experienced that before. You are, indeed, a gifted enchantress. But, now we must go. We have been here long enough.� He moved towards her with quick strides.

His armored glove with its silver spikes on the knuckles reached for her. She withdrew a step back to dodge his grasp, tears in her startled eyes. �This cannot be happening to me,� she cried in horror. He reached out again, power and strength emanating from every part of his dark figure which blotted out most of her view. She could feel the steel grip as it closed around her wrist.

�I insist. We must go, now. We have been here far too long,� he said with urgency, looking from side to side as he drew Kinesis close to him.

There was a tremendous crash of brush and the rip shredding of tree limbs behind him. The ground seemed to shake as if pounded by giant hammers. Through a ravaged opening at the edge of the lighted clearing, a dragon surged through.

It moved with a sway of tormented muscle and massive weight with its front legs bent in right angles at the elbow and hocks to support the massive neck and head of its scaled body. Its scales were dark grey with trace colors of the green of algae in a pond gone bad. Claws the size of broken wagon spokes slashed the ground with each stride. A long ridged tail stretched from its huge hindquarters. It stopped, gazed at the rider and Kinesis, and then spoke.

(to be continued)

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