Unnamed OC: Ficlet - Silver Lining
Jan. 22nd, 2012 02:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arghmusesTitle: Silver Lining
Fandom/original: Original
Characters: Unknown Brother, hints of Silver
Rating: PG
Word count: 538
Author's Notes: has no beta, spell checker. all mistakes are mine.
He sat in the middle of the room, which also sat in the middle of the mountain.
It was a heated room; too many disciples sitting in here with him, but it was something he couldn't change. It was as it always was, they would sit and wait, listen to nothing and await something holy.
There was times where he himself wondered if those who were chosen were really picked by the divine hand to carry out events or if they became bored of sitting and praying in the room. Bored to tears, yes, he had reached that point and chastised himself after crying.
That was not the way that a holy avatar should behave; it was not condoned on any level and was sure that the divine laughed at him. Maybe that's why he hadn't been able to See a vision in so many years.
If that was the case, there would be no amount of atonement to be made. The die was cast and his fate was sealed so to speak; he wouldn't See again. It wasn't as if he could just stand and walk out of the room with the statement of "I quit."
He was the one that they all turned to for advice, he was the one with the knowledge, the edge that kept them on their toes.
Perhaps he should step down, appoint another in his place and leave the center of everything. Perhaps he should seek out the Death God and the Hellworth heir himself.
He alone failed the Brotherhood. He who was their head, failed them all.
A soft rustle of cloth was heard and he used what little gifts he had to find the cause; it was one of the other brothers, returning from a mission.
There would be members who had died that night and this too, he took upon himself, took their blood on his hands even if he never gave the orders.
Words were spoken between him and the other. It always felt like they were spoken in a time that wasn't a time, a place that was never really there. It wasn't here, nor there but it certainly wasn't nowhere. It had no name that he knew of and part of him wondered if he could ascend to where those words were spoken.
Closing his eyes, he once more began to pray in earnest - wasn't it always in earnest - to the divine. For them to grant him the Sight again, so he may lead the Brotherhood.
Never once did it occur to him that perhaps he wasn't meant to have the sight anymore, that there was no punishment, no need to atone for sins not done. That it simply was not meant to be at that time.
Instead, he would silently plead to the divine to gain the Sight again; beg to have what was dried up from once a well that flowed so freely. But in a way, the divine had stopped hearing the Brotherhood. Their eyes were turned to the one in Silver.
If only someone could see that there was a silver lining to be had in amongst the dust of gold and bronze. Then the gods would listen again, let him See again.
Fandom/original: Original
Characters: Unknown Brother, hints of Silver
Rating: PG
Word count: 538
Author's Notes: has no beta, spell checker. all mistakes are mine.
He sat in the middle of the room, which also sat in the middle of the mountain.
It was a heated room; too many disciples sitting in here with him, but it was something he couldn't change. It was as it always was, they would sit and wait, listen to nothing and await something holy.
There was times where he himself wondered if those who were chosen were really picked by the divine hand to carry out events or if they became bored of sitting and praying in the room. Bored to tears, yes, he had reached that point and chastised himself after crying.
That was not the way that a holy avatar should behave; it was not condoned on any level and was sure that the divine laughed at him. Maybe that's why he hadn't been able to See a vision in so many years.
If that was the case, there would be no amount of atonement to be made. The die was cast and his fate was sealed so to speak; he wouldn't See again. It wasn't as if he could just stand and walk out of the room with the statement of "I quit."
He was the one that they all turned to for advice, he was the one with the knowledge, the edge that kept them on their toes.
Perhaps he should step down, appoint another in his place and leave the center of everything. Perhaps he should seek out the Death God and the Hellworth heir himself.
He alone failed the Brotherhood. He who was their head, failed them all.
A soft rustle of cloth was heard and he used what little gifts he had to find the cause; it was one of the other brothers, returning from a mission.
There would be members who had died that night and this too, he took upon himself, took their blood on his hands even if he never gave the orders.
Words were spoken between him and the other. It always felt like they were spoken in a time that wasn't a time, a place that was never really there. It wasn't here, nor there but it certainly wasn't nowhere. It had no name that he knew of and part of him wondered if he could ascend to where those words were spoken.
Closing his eyes, he once more began to pray in earnest - wasn't it always in earnest - to the divine. For them to grant him the Sight again, so he may lead the Brotherhood.
Never once did it occur to him that perhaps he wasn't meant to have the sight anymore, that there was no punishment, no need to atone for sins not done. That it simply was not meant to be at that time.
Instead, he would silently plead to the divine to gain the Sight again; beg to have what was dried up from once a well that flowed so freely. But in a way, the divine had stopped hearing the Brotherhood. Their eyes were turned to the one in Silver.
If only someone could see that there was a silver lining to be had in amongst the dust of gold and bronze. Then the gods would listen again, let him See again.
