Four Smoking Mirrors
Added 2017-12-22 20:35:50 +0000 UTCThe bones are cast in the ground.
Look!
The first bone falls to the East. It rolls, its yellow skin peeled. It is the earth, its flesh hiding gold, plants growing on the surface. With time, the plants rot, and the soil parts to reveal gold, before it is covered again and new vegetation springs. Life blooms, as does disease, and life fades, as do your sores. Here, the sun is born.
Look!
The second bone falls to the South. As it rolls, it becomes flaming turquoise, light and heat bursting from the bright blue. The heart races, as do the wings of the hummingbird. Nectar and blood boil, singe, and become radiance. War and passions are born, the thrill of conquest as spears cut through flesh or as beaks pierce eyes. Here, the sun shines at its full splendor, and may in fact be synonimous with it.
Look!
The third bone falls to the West. Its rolling causes a stir in the air, that becomes a wind, that become a white storm. Air moves in coiling currents, the body of a serpent, adorned by cloud plumes, as resplendent as they are dull. They are as loud as a monkey's howling, yet calm, as soothing as a breath. The mind is at ease, and thus it can think, as patient as a viper. Here, the sun sets.
Look!
The third bone falls to the North. The final roll brings to mind the macabre, the blackest obsidian reflecting upon itself. Shadows cloak the owl and the jaguar as they hunt, corpses following in their trail. In the dark, surviving is a matter of strength, of power one acquires, yet not devoid of responsibility. All are slaves to the night, and the night is unforgiving to those that mistreat its slaves. Here, the sun is a half-light, concealed until the morning.
Look!
As the bones fall, the skeleton crumbles.
