Harmony

Waves upon waves, crashing against the rocky shore. People made of foam, real being, humans, reaching out as though in a desperate attempt to live. And then they'd collapse, and be washed away, only to return again, stronger, weaker, larger, smaller. Eilisa was standing atop of the rocky cliff, arms spread wide open, welcoming the strong winds, welcoming the strong waves clashing against the rock. Yes. So beautiful. "Time..still...exists." Came the soft voice of the young woman. A calm sort of tone. Very feminine, very general. It was so strange, yes, so very strange a picture. The young woman seemingly about to leap into the arms of death, but she had a bright smile on her lips. She probably seemed as though she welcomed death. Or maybe, maybe she was just enjoying the view.

The young woman seemed almost lost, her eyes so wide open her smile now faded. She seemed vacant. Just staring off into the distance. Nothing specific. Just staring. Staring as the sun was slowly rising. Her night-gown blowing in the wind. It felt much more comfortable than pant pajamas, and it also looked much nicer. Girly wasn't a good word. She never liked that word, because according to it she was the girliest non-girly girl ever. Eilisa laughed and turned around, staring at the hiking path that had lead her there. It may have been strange, hiking so early in the morning, in a night-gown, up to a cliff, just to look out at the water. Eilisa looked down, realizing she was also barefoot, but that hadn't bothered her much either. It was just.. a temporary thing. As soon as she'd get home, she'd take a warm bath and cleanse her feet. But it was nice, to feel the cold, moist earth beneath her bare feet. It was perfection.

As he looked at the way she stood, it appeared as though she didn’t know where she was standing. As he looked at the way she stared as far as she could into the horizon, it appeared as though she was looking at nothing in particular. Her body mustn’t have known the temperature of the night, since she was wearing nothing more than a night gown, light enough to ripple about as even the most gentle breezes wished it to. Those feet were bare, without regard to the coarse, bedewed ground. To most, such a sight was purely anomalistic, but when looked upon through Artist’s eyes, it was one of the few things in this world that made sense.

Whether or not there might have been a big chance that she was here solely to make a final leap in life, Artist decided to strongly believe that she was standing there entirely to gaze upon the beauty of the world. She was avoiding the reality that maybe, just maybe, she may slip and fall into the abyss that was oh so very enticing; the one that lay before her. She was avoiding the fact that perhaps the temperature of the setting might just present her with a most irksome cold, all for the sake of losing herself within that torrent of beautiful emotions; emotions that he believed made her feel like she had found paradise before heaven.

Those steps were sluggish and lazy as they carried him towards the cliff on which she was standing, and eventually, he allowed himself to drop onto his rear, elbows resting over his kneecaps as he watched her with a most questionable gaze. As he looked at her, it wasn’t as if she was the only thing he was looking at. Nay, this woman was a small, yet important part of the bigger picture that he saw all around her; the very idea of what she was doing composed one substantial painting in his mind that he would never forget. To gaze upon this was to gaze upon the meaning of life, or so he believed.

Should she ever encounter the curiosity to turn around and face this star gazer of a man, she would find one rather meek individual, subdued entirely by what he had just witnessed. If Artist could ever gaze upon himself during that singular moment, he’d come to terms with the fact that the manner in which he sat there was very unbecoming of him. Those shoulders, under his black suit, slouched despite the fact that there didn’t seem to be anything weighing down on them. His eyes, which lacked any real luster, made up for it with a pensive emptiness who’s depth could never be measured.

Artist appeared as though he was locked in the throes of a dense sleep, but somewhere from within this well of light unconsciousness, he managed to summon his voice, “Please, don’t move too much.”

-For a moment, she wondered if she were to die, if she were to die in that brief moment. Maybe the rock beneath her would crumble, and she would fall. At least she would die happy. Eilisa reached out, fingers stretched towards the sky as though trying to move the clouds. Trying to change it into a different shape. Maybe drag the shadows away, drag the darkness away and let the sun shine in all it's glory. Maybe make the sun that delicious bright blue, that summer bright blue. She couldn't stop smiling whenever she saw that blue. It begged for one to smile. Hell, it was impossible to not smile! The colour was so joyful. So pure.

She had heard the footsteps behind her, but she hadn't turned. There was no point. "Wish I could fly.." The young woman whispered, the words followed by a small giggle of sorts. She had always wished she could fly. Such a silly wish, such a silly dream, but there was so much one could do if only one could fly. Maybe she was speaking to the person behind her, or maybe she was speaking to herself. There was no other option so it had to be one of the two. But which one? Even she wasn't sure of. Eilisa seemed to not have listened to the man's words,for she had brought herself to her knees, then swung her legs over the side of the cliff, sitting on the edge. She could feel the water spraying against her feet. It was strange how she felt no fear. No fear whatsoever.

Maybe that was bad, to not feel fear. Fear was useful in most cases, but she saw no point in it now. If it was her time to die, something would happen, and she would fall off. If it was not,then she would keep living.Why waste every moment in fear? Just let destiny unfold. Let it all lay down before you.

As he sat there, he could only keep staring at the image before him, gently allowing his eyelids to trail down along his eyes, all but emphasizing the serenity he felt within. Although she hadn’t listened to his request, he didn’t appear to be troubled by her movements; it was quite the contrary, he only watched her more intently, studying her movements and enjoying how he could only ponder what was coursing through her mind. It was such an enjoyment that if he were ever even able to delve into the layers of her mind to discover what she was thinking for himself, he simply wouldn’t, for the sake of preserving this curiosity.

The woman’s words fluttered about in the ambience, and eventually, Artist managed to reach out and grasp them; when he did, it was as though he had suddenly woken up from his trance. A gentle spark of consciousness illuminated those eyes; the glint of intent revived him, and soon thereafter, he brought himself up to stand. Artist no longer appeared as though his body was going to give in under his weight, but he stood as though he was one of the rocks that the waves slammed against: obstinate in every sense.

Now, the woman was no longer the object of his attention, but the things around him were instead. It hadn’t taken too long for him to do so, but he finally discovered what he had been searching for, and as soon as he did, he promptly turned to face her before he spoke, “Are you sure that you want to fly?” his voice was as a whisper, yet it was wholly undeterred by the wind. “Look here,” Artist lifted one hand and pointed towards another cliff, this one much higher up than the one they were on currently. It had an enormous drop which ended with a rocky death. “If you aren’t lying to yourself, and you really want to fly, you’ll go over there,” he offered her an opportunity with such zeal, with such promise that it was hard to believe he wasn't crazy.

Some kind of mixture of excitement and happiness tugged at the corners of his lips, creating an amiable smile that revealed a deeply-rooted sense of adventure. “I hope you don’t decide to refuse on the basis of incredulousness, because then I just might question whether you ever really wanted to fly or not. You can come with me now, or you may meet me there in a couple of minutes. Make haste, however, as I may decide to soar without you.”

With that, the man had turned around, brown strands of hair fluttering about in the passing breezes. Should she decide not to follow right behind him, he’d slowly disappear into the distance. Should she follow close behind him, he wouldn’t say a word along the way, all up until they reached the high cliff.

For a moment, she was really tempted to push herself off of the edge. She wondered if it would kill her? Or if the waters would welcome her and keep her alive? It was sure deep enough to prevent her from hitting the bottom, but what about the rocks? She would probably hit them. "Maybe not.." Eilisa spoke, turning her body and swinging her legs back onto the ground. Eilisa leaned forward and slowly stood up, seeming to not have noticed the man in front of her. Her faded crimson eyes stared in his approximate direction, but obviously not at him, since they were completely glazed over. Or, or maybe she was looking at him. Even she did not know.

Her head turned towards the distant cliff, before he had actually motioned towards it. She didn't much care for his presence there, it was the same with or without another being. She still didn't seem like she noticed anyone being there. "Whether I will be able to fly, or not, I will still need the use of my feet. And climbing that cliff is a guarantee that I shall not have the use of them for a while." The tone of her voice implied that she was addressing herself, it was the same lost voice, the same distant tone, almost like that of a story-teller, or maybe that of an idiot. But what the man had said, she believed. Maybe she could fly from there, either fly or die. Either one.

She didn't much like the idea of death, but she was a strong believer in the idea that no moment should ever be wasted. If one is to die, then one shall die. But no life should ever be wasted in fear. Her head dropped to a side suddenly, and with her vacant expression, one could actually say that she had died. But she was just thinking."Alright" Eilisa spoke once more. She would follow him. She moved quickly, but with small, almost inaudible steps since she was barefoot. Eilisa winced at the feel of the rocks beneath her feet, she had now realized how sensitive her feet really were. Maybe she had just now woken up.

It hadn’t taken long for them to reach the edge of the cliff; although the way there had been somewhat rocky, there was actually a trail that led to it, making the trip just a bit more easier than she may have thought. Artist walked straight up to the cliff, stood at the edge of it, and brought something out of his pocket. After gazing at the violent tides below, which crashed vehemently against the sharp rocks, he tossed something down the edge of the cliff.

For what felt like hours, his eyes were focused upon that small, falling object, all up until it hit the water, its form entirely clouded by the alabaster tumbling of the water. The story wouldn’t be as simple as that if they crashed against that water. Nay, the water would do with them as it pleased; it would smash them against those sharp rocks that littered the shore before causing their blood to fade away into nothingness.

It was a sequence that Artist never, ever, wanted to experience. Eventually, he allowed himself to turn around, finally facing the woman who had the courage to follow this crazy man to the edge of a cliff, just to fly. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” he gestured towards the edge of the cliff, and farther into the fall itself. “It’s a long way down; all that just to become acquainted with those sharp rocks. Of course, that’s if anything goes wrong,” he managed to smile during such a grim rumination.

Then, Artist extended his hand towards her, countenance defined by this adventurous passion that burned within him. “Take my hand, and then, then walk past the cliff, as if you’re going to walk on the air itself. I’ll follow right behind you. After that, like I promised, you and I will fly; we will ascend into the heavens, feel as though we just might be able to touch the clouds if we reach far enough.”

His other hand was clutching tightly onto a an unseen object, and he waited for a response. If she did it, then maybe he’d start questioning her sanity.

-Once more, Eilisa hadn't even paid attention to him. She was lost in the scenery. She loved the way the trees' branches swayed in the wind. The sound of the birds, wings fluttering above them. Eilisa turned and spun around a few times, arms stretched out, welcoming the strong winds that threatened to push her off the cliff. A small laugh was heard as she stopped spinning. The earth was moving around her, and she felt as though she was about to fall over. But she didn't.

Eilisa looked at the strange man before her, and gave a small smile of sorts. Though once more she was simply staring in his approximate direction, not straight at him. "I have come all the way here, haven't I?" She spoke, a hint of annoyance in her voice. Eilisa much hated having to repeat herself, and she had indeed followed him already. "But..if you have any doubts, stranger, please warn me. I shall attempt to soothe you." Eilisa smirked, she hoped he wouldn't much understand her insult, but if he did, she also hoped he wouldn't be hurt by it.

On most cases, her insults are hard to decipher. They just seem like strings of words, possibly carrying a meaning in relation to the subject, but usually far too vague to be understood. And they were usually sarcastic remarks. As she saw him extend his hand, she simply walked past him, then stopped, feet firmly planted against the edge of the cliff. "So I just walk?"-

By then, he had become accustomed to her delayed responses, where she marveled at the scenery and bathed in what she thought about everything before she answered. Artist could only smile when he heard her response, and he shook his head, “You have shown me you had decided by following me all the way here, but that’s not enough for me to stop considering the fact that regret may have infected your decision,” shoulders rose, shrugging lightly as he watched her walk toward the cliff, his hand still out.

Soon after she had spoken, she’d feel his fingers, forcefully and roughly making their ways around her wrist and tugging her away from the cliff. “No, that’s precisely what you don’t do,” any remnants of that smile that had once been on his lips were wiped away. “Don’t worry, if I wanted to eat you, I would have done that long ago,” his words were saturated in a light sense of irritation, but he was quick to shake it off as his fingers loosened their grips, sliding down towards the palm of her hand and grasping tightly once again.

At that point in time, he stole a glance of the fall before them, staring as deeply as he could into the tempestuous water below. Soon thereafter, he stepped in even closer, chest pressing lightly against her back. “Now, go on, walk on the air,” his hand, which still held her own in its grasp, reached out towards the empty space before them, bringing her's along with it. Should she listen to him, should she trust this crazy man, she would step forward and her feet would find purchase upon nothing.

The air wouldn’t hold her, and she would plummet, straight towards the water that they had been worrying about this whole time. The only consolation would be that Artist would follow, eagerly falling along side this crazy woman.

-"Oh no, trust me, there's no regret. Other than the fact that I most likely about to leap in the arms of death, there's nothing to worry about. No, no, no regret whatsoever." Eilisa looked below at the tumbling waves. And for an instant, she could already feel the rocks tearing apart at her body. Strangely, the idea did not frighten her. She would step, and either fall into the depths of Hell or soar towards the welcoming gates of Heaven.

As his fingers curled around her wrist, Eilisa winced and turned her head, glaring at him. Positively furious. She despised contact. No, it wasn't that she despised, she believed all forms of physical contact to be necessary at a particular point in time, but was it necessary for him to hold her hand? Probably not. He could have held onto her arm. Holding onto a stranger's hand was rude, and at the feel of his fingers she wished she could tear her skin off or her hand off and escape.

Eilisa stepped towards the edge once more, looking down into the unwelcoming water. "Dormagyn uns'aa" Eilisa whispered, head turning to look at the stranger. To die with a man she did not know, such a...satisfying fate. The young woman sighed, and took another step forward as her eyes closed; tearing her feet away from the comforting safety that the ground offered.-

When she faced him with that glare, Artist didn’t seem to budge, in attitude nor in standing. Though as he watched her, he began to wonder if she hadn’t figured anything out yet; he thought he had made it clear that it was necessary for him to hold onto her. He was quick to disregard it however, focusing on the fact that she had begun moving forward. Those last words, which he could not understand, were disregarded in entirety as he followed with her.

The woman’s feet found purchase upon nothing; the air wasn’t there to hold her. When she finally took her second step, she plummeted. It was then that Artist’s fingers tightened over her hand, and he stepped over the edge of the cliff as well, allowing himself to be pulled along with her. As quick as that, the morning breeze harshly pressed against his body; his suit was aflutter and so was his hair as they spread away from each other in their fall, being held together solely by the strength of their– well, his hand.

By then, he had no idea what may have been coursing through her mind. This was unexpected, perhaps, and if it was as so, she had probably decided that he had tricked her, and they were, in fact, going to die. Nothing was going to stop them from colliding against the water below, which they could see now, clearer than ever before. She didn’t know his name, had no idea who he was, what he did with his life, nor why he had brought her here, yet she was going to die with nobody other than he.

At the same time, however, the woman might just rejoice in the beauty of what they were experiencing. The air, though cold, felt so good as it pressed against their bodies; if only it was just a bit thicker, it may have been able to uphold them. The water below, tempestuous and uncontrollable, could almost be welcoming, if it wasn’t so likely to crush them against the rocks that lay beside them. Thus, Artist kept his eyes focused on her countenance, wondering which one it would be.

Those eyes remained ever focused on her facial expressions; he peered profoundly, as though there was something, existing deep under her countenance, that was soon to erupt. Those seconds, which may have been forced to last longer than they should have by the oncoming chaos, were excruciating to say the least. Then it struck him; his eyes were alight with the gleam of realization, and when he turned to look, the water below them was gentle.

A flash, occurring as a result of the energetic currents that traversed the distance of the sky, splashed them both with a blinding luminescence that spoke of disaster. Despite their endearing appearance, bright like shooting stars, they were so ominous they might as well have been a blanket of fluctuating, dense, and encompassing darkness. “I did not intend for this to happen, but it turns out that you and I, complete strangers, may die together here this morning,” his voice wasn’t like before.

As they emerged from his mouth, they were tainted with a sense of failure; a sense of nescience towards the nightmare that was unfolding before them. It lasted a couple of moments before he spoke once more, seemingly restored to the way he was before. “No, this won’t be it for either of us,” what followed then was a gentle crack that all but lullabied the despair in his heart, leaving room for courage to occupy the majority. Following that gentle susurrus, what lay in his hand came to life, growing to encompass the surface of his hand and to traverse the length of his back.

It was a seed, and the flora that was born of it encompassed them both; on either side, thick, over-sized petals caught the sharp breeze, and with that, they ascended into the heavens. Artist had chosen his fight; it was to be with the very sky. For one reason or another, he feared the tidal waves and the crumbling shoreline below him more than he did the mana that thrived above them.

The onslaught raged, and minutes later, Eilisa will have gotten what she wanted. They stood with the clouds, standing on nothing more than the air below them. By then, Earth seemed to have fallen asleep after a vehement tantrum, and Artist, Artist was smoking, unlike Eilisa's unscathed physicality. The surface of his skin felt as though it was boiling, and it felt that soon, he’d be wishing that it would all simply flake away and leave him with no skin to feel pain for.

His clothing was torn, there were thick trees littered about his space; after having diverted bolts of mana with the use whatever he was able to muster during the sudden outrage, he felt ready to die. Artist was standing there like a scarecrow, at peace with the pain that had been inflicted upon him, and smiling as widely as he ever had. “If it happens again, I’ll give up. Come, we should go,” whatever they had been standing on then gave way, and they were falling once again, towards dry land.

By means of gravitational magic it seemed, they landed safely, and after nothing more than a lackadaisical wave of the hand, he was headed towards the horizon, as though something there was waiting for him. His pace was that of a dying man's.

[ Exit: Artist. ]