Light and Dark

Deep in the sprit of the human nature live both Ying and Yang, both light and darkness, which the human soul must battle between to stay from losing their sanity. Each person battles different things in different ways, but all with the same goal, to overcome the darkness that is evil and rise victorious over their own soul. This is the battle the rages just beneath my own skin.

Worlds are torn between justice and greed, plagued with self-righteous beings that want nothing but for themselves to succeed, peaceful lands broken under their own rulers. The world stands ready for the evil yet to come…two beings, one of the light, and one of the utter darkness. Shires, plains, kingdoms and towns all tense for the rain of darkness is finally upon them all. Are you ready?

The wind whistles and the thunder calls, the trees bend into submission from the heaving force of that is nature. Flashes of light illuminate the small, once peaceful village of Gigglebog, which is now under heavy ominous clouds of darkness. The shudders clap upon their host, as candle street lamps beg to stay lit. Across the cobble stone road lays rows of beaten houses chirping and creaking from the weight of the wind. Little marketplaces sway and twitch at the onslaught of power, there is something arise…in this little stormy town, something unknown and new. Which will it be? The light or the dark…

A cloaked figure pushes its way through the forest line and onto the cobble street, shoving the wing with the force of many men. It staggered to every window and every door, looking for something unknown. It stop at the last cottage in the row, leaning against the house it slumped onto the porch and lifted its load onto the threshold and softly knocked on the occupants door.

For what seemed to be ages nothing appeared, the cloaked figure long sense in the shelter of trees, wailing, seeking nothing but the warmth of the inside, the package sobbed and yelled for something he didn’t know. Something different about his new surroundings sent fear and hate into his blood, like boiling water searing his insides. Wanted nothing but warmth, to be warm.

From the kitchen it could be heard, screeching, growling, the fair woman left her place at the table and opened the door to see a bundle of green cloth in a basin basket. With utter surprise she undid the metal fastener to revel a large child who must have been at least eight, but no, this was no human child. She lifted the basket with some difficulty and heaved the parcel onto her table. This fair woman was never blessed with child, she may be fair but to the use of the village she was none. The prayers of this woman were answered in the most unusual way. Not with her own child but with the child of an ogre.

Years pass and what was first big, got bigger and by the age of six the ogre child was nearly as tall as the village elder that often mocked the poor boy and his mother as they shopped in the market. The other children feared him as well as the men of the village. His bottom teeth began to show over his top lip and none matched his strength, but he simply carried his mother’s luggage with no complaint. Watching the women folk gawk and stare, the men gather and point maybe planning something, and the children, oh the children the ogre was always at the ready of the flying rock that may find his way, or rotten vegetables.

The years through which the lad calls life has beaten the once fair madden into an older looking, meaner woman. The years have plagued with her hair, which is now showing some silver under the gold. Her figure is even leaner then before, almost a skeleton, but still very strong, considering what she had raised. The woman walked he son down the market in her ripped blue gown that she only wore to go to market, for the constant harassment upon arriving. Ripped, stained, her gown nearly didn’t fit over her small body, which no longer bears scars of her sons upbringing. After all the years spent raising her son she still was as elegant and graceful woman that she was before, and just as kind hearted.

She strolled down the tense marketplace without a care in the world, for she saw no problem with the fact that her six-year-old son was about six feet tall. His sunken far into his jade face, which shows his brows that shadow over his face. He at first glance looked very scrawny but could easily throw a cow across the pen. Two of his bottom teeth glimmering over his top lip, which alone can give a grown man a shiver.

All along the corridors they can clearly hear:

“Why is that THING out here?”

“How can she raise that, its hideous!”

“What is that?”

“Don’t go near it, it’ll eat you”