Post by zhuhien on Aug 6, 2006 19:58:17 GMT -5
Vowels that sing for the dead
Lao Harn stood in silence, the cold breeze from outside of the Palace shelters softly blowing into his face. It was dark, and it was a clear night. He spent the time sitting down, his back against the old, cold, steel frame of the palace door, a pipe placed firmly in his hand as he watched the light grey cloud of smoke dance above his head. It faintly reminded him of a rain cloud, or something along the lines of that. Something along the lines of a rain cloud that was slowly but surely bound to pelt against his pale, aging skin.
The burnt orange embers of the piped Fleska leaf slowly fell to the floor, and within a second or two, he couldn't even spot them. That reminded him of life, things that seemed so important at the time faded so quickly. Nothing ever lasted. Cabera was the only good thing that happened to him, and he knew it.
The irony behind the story of Cabera was the pure fact that he would have died was it not for the old man. The most precious thing Lao Harn owned, cared for and protected was the outcome of something so tragic and wrong.
It was funny, and not in a hysterical 'ha ha' sense either. Lao Harn's life had been nothing more then continual ups and downs, and to be honest, he was getting tired of it. He was getting tired of working on the farms; he was getting tired of not raising his family like he should.
Why he couldn't just get a 'normal' life bewildered him. It bewildered his mother and father. Lao Harn couldn't help but to feel the only reason he worked with Rui was the pure fact that it irritated his ancestors. And if it irritated his ancestors, well then it was bound to be worth it, wasn't it?
He still hadn't got over the teenage angst rebellious stage, even at his age. It was pathetic, but he knew it, and that was the problem.
"You ready?" The questioning voice broke all thoughts from Lao Harn, but the cold breeze continued to flicker upon his youthful gaze.
Renius stood from his side, and Cabera watched the two with mild interest as the news had finally reached him. Lao Harn wouldn't be there for Cabera, yet the old man would always be there for him, it was an ironic way of putting it, but loyalty couldn't be earned, it was inherited.
The storm blew along its easterly course, and Lao followed a lazy eye after it, noting the limp stars above as he rose his back from the shards of ice that covered his fragile body, "Come, gentlemen…our war can wait, today we must honour Gaius Julius Caesar."
The pair turned to Cabera, yet looked away as the red-rimmed general gave them a simple glimpse of the burdens he now held. He remembered the boy, Gaius. And even prayed for his spirits once being moved to aid Lao Harn, hearing of his death brought only pain upon his fragile mind, and guilt plagued at Lao Harn for this, as he'd declined Cabera the chance to see him, only a week had passed when he heard of his defeat.
Renius knew the story, but he kept his own mouth shut, where to be frank, it belonged.
Renius turned a wilting look; he couldn't bear to watch his old friend bare the grief and pain, and stood emotionally distorted as he awaited the moments to pass by.
It was then that Cabera spoke, his voice was wrought with his illness, but he looked firm enough to stand, his dry voice crocked slightly at the start, but he made up for it as its brass based echo kicked in, sending Lao Harn to tears as he listened to the songs of the death.
O I heard Cabera sing, from Aevon up on high,
And for his words your heart will sting, and your soul shall sigh;
For Caesar has fallen, and all becomes despair,
Gaius, for whom Cabera’s calling, you who were so fair.
For Caesar has fallen, whatever shall Man do?
Gaius, for whom Cabera’s calling, woe be unto you.
For Caesar has fallen, Aevon’s grace has turned away.
Gaius, for whom Cabera’s calling, this is your end of day.
For Caesar has fallen, alas, for what was right…
Gaius, for whom Cabera’s calling, this is your final night.
[/center]
Lao Harn stood in silence, the cold breeze from outside of the Palace shelters softly blowing into his face. It was dark, and it was a clear night. He spent the time sitting down, his back against the old, cold, steel frame of the palace door, a pipe placed firmly in his hand as he watched the light grey cloud of smoke dance above his head. It faintly reminded him of a rain cloud, or something along the lines of that. Something along the lines of a rain cloud that was slowly but surely bound to pelt against his pale, aging skin.
The burnt orange embers of the piped Fleska leaf slowly fell to the floor, and within a second or two, he couldn't even spot them. That reminded him of life, things that seemed so important at the time faded so quickly. Nothing ever lasted. Cabera was the only good thing that happened to him, and he knew it.
The irony behind the story of Cabera was the pure fact that he would have died was it not for the old man. The most precious thing Lao Harn owned, cared for and protected was the outcome of something so tragic and wrong.
It was funny, and not in a hysterical 'ha ha' sense either. Lao Harn's life had been nothing more then continual ups and downs, and to be honest, he was getting tired of it. He was getting tired of working on the farms; he was getting tired of not raising his family like he should.
Why he couldn't just get a 'normal' life bewildered him. It bewildered his mother and father. Lao Harn couldn't help but to feel the only reason he worked with Rui was the pure fact that it irritated his ancestors. And if it irritated his ancestors, well then it was bound to be worth it, wasn't it?
He still hadn't got over the teenage angst rebellious stage, even at his age. It was pathetic, but he knew it, and that was the problem.
"You ready?" The questioning voice broke all thoughts from Lao Harn, but the cold breeze continued to flicker upon his youthful gaze.
Renius stood from his side, and Cabera watched the two with mild interest as the news had finally reached him. Lao Harn wouldn't be there for Cabera, yet the old man would always be there for him, it was an ironic way of putting it, but loyalty couldn't be earned, it was inherited.
The storm blew along its easterly course, and Lao followed a lazy eye after it, noting the limp stars above as he rose his back from the shards of ice that covered his fragile body, "Come, gentlemen…our war can wait, today we must honour Gaius Julius Caesar."
The pair turned to Cabera, yet looked away as the red-rimmed general gave them a simple glimpse of the burdens he now held. He remembered the boy, Gaius. And even prayed for his spirits once being moved to aid Lao Harn, hearing of his death brought only pain upon his fragile mind, and guilt plagued at Lao Harn for this, as he'd declined Cabera the chance to see him, only a week had passed when he heard of his defeat.
Renius knew the story, but he kept his own mouth shut, where to be frank, it belonged.
Renius turned a wilting look; he couldn't bear to watch his old friend bare the grief and pain, and stood emotionally distorted as he awaited the moments to pass by.
It was then that Cabera spoke, his voice was wrought with his illness, but he looked firm enough to stand, his dry voice crocked slightly at the start, but he made up for it as its brass based echo kicked in, sending Lao Harn to tears as he listened to the songs of the death.
O I heard Cabera sing, from Aevon up on high,
And for his words your heart will sting, and your soul shall sigh;
For Caesar has fallen, and all becomes despair,
Gaius, for whom Cabera’s calling, you who were so fair.
For Caesar has fallen, whatever shall Man do?
Gaius, for whom Cabera’s calling, woe be unto you.
For Caesar has fallen, Aevon’s grace has turned away.
Gaius, for whom Cabera’s calling, this is your end of day.
For Caesar has fallen, alas, for what was right…
Gaius, for whom Cabera’s calling, this is your final night.
