September 3, 2017 by Patrick Starks
I wasn’t always like this. I used to be free, I used to be graceful, yet grateful of this life—especially when I was amongst the others. People today would call it conformity, but it wasn’t it all like that—we were a family. We gathered food together, we traveled together, we played together, and most of the time, laughed together—it was truly an artistic life, one that I never wished the paintbrush to leave.
Fall was coming close to its end, and we were all set up for winter, that’s at least what we thought. The visions aren’t at all that clear, but I still remember bits and pieces of them. Winter came fast, and it came hard, and as sexual as that may sound, it wasn’t at all—if that’s what you’re thinking.
But moving on, it was a typical day as always, everyone had collected all they could for the last day of Fall—everything we did felt right, as usual, but we would soon find that for the first time, we were off. Winter would come blistering right through the middle of our day, wiping away all we built, and all that we had saved—saved just for it. We tried to stick together, staying in our original, yet traditional formation, but due to power of Winters winds, we would soon be separated.
Everything happened fast, before I knew it, I was forced from my group, my family—right into a tree. As I made contact, the world around me would then become dim—at that moment, all I could think of was Josie. “Arrow! Arrow!” Josie screamed, the last voice I would hear before my departure, a voice of an angel, I felt.
A couple of hours later I would awaken from my rollercoaster ride, oddly in place I was unfamiliar with—a place of war, a place of humans. On occasion, I would look up to see if I could see not Josie and the pussycats, but Josie and the gang. But never were they revealed—all I saw now was the ground, which reeked of reek, if that made any sense at all.
The ground appeared tainted with blood of the supposed fallen, or what remained of them, as their bodies lied wasted, decaying, submerging in the grounds moist. And every now and then I’d hear a chilling scream, in which you would hear afterwards the victor rejoice.
Along with the scream was the sound of a triumphed. Vibrations underneath my feet would then make their presence known, as they came closer, as they became louder. And once close enough, all hell would break loose.
As I stood standing, nothing but humans surrounded me—clashes of shields and swords were all that were heard. I felt I was in hell, nearly being stepped on by the goliaths that charged.
“That’s it! Is that all you’ve got!” a man yelled. He was tall as the tree that I’d once smacked into. He as well reeked of reek, and held the kind of roar that I would see only in thunderstorms. His opponent was a tad shorter, and had long luxurious hair, one of a woman. Although, I couldn’t verify that it was, it had a mask on, and so I just called it,” IT.” I thought if I ever made out, I would tell the children the story of the “Reeking man, and the Luxurious IT,” I grinned, I know that IT would be a hit.
“Oh, I’ve got plenty of more where that came from!” IT yelled, and yet its voice was masked—in conclusion, it was clearly an IT. But instantly the course of the battle changed as both their swords went flying away from their hands.
The supposed IT then charged the man tumbling down a hill of the fallen, and don’t ask me how the hell it happened, but it did—I would get my arm, more so my wing, tangled from the strings of IT’s boots, tumbling down with the two warriors. All three of us were out of it, laying in the middle of a pit, in triangle formation. Oddly, another formation would set itself, as thousands of men and IT’s surrounded the stage—the battle had now become a play.
I begged for the gods to help me out of the situation, just one time, and I swear to never masturbate again. But ironically, my heart would almost choose masturbation over death.
“Enough! This is between you and I, no one must die Winter! Give us this last day, and the months are yours.” I was confused, what the hell did IT mean when they called the man Winter. “No! Today it ends Fall! No more will your season reign! The season, your soul, is mine!” the man said. I still wasn’t getting at all, what was going on.
The man would then forge a sword of ice just by the grasping of the mist in the air, charging what I still believed to be IT. And it was clear as day, that the man was in fact Winter, but the real shocker was IT. As the man charged IT, IT would finally take off their fucking mask for a change, and show who they were.
And as they did, leaves of fall would surround their body as it became a piece of armor for them. I was absolutely pissed at this point, for that the very mask IT would take off, would now be replaced by leaves—I honestly thought my head would pop from its neck, I was so frustrated.
The fight of Winter and Fall would now begin, and as much as Fall annoyed me, I wanted them to win. After all Winter had done to me, to my family, I wanted vengeance.
The two clashed immediately, clashing in godly ways, enough to form earth quakes. The formation that once surrounded us would later disperse, for that they knew things would become worst.
“Fucking whore! God should never had created you, you’re a fucking waste! And you know what, so is he!” yelled Winter, but Fall seemed hesitant, they were holding back for a reason, and yet Winter ignored knocking Fall, taking his iced infested sword closer to Fall’s heart.
And as Fall became weaker, their face was revealed, I couldn’t believe it—a woman, and yet had the features of Josie, and her tears. Her eyes were golden, her skin dark as the night. The woman was no bird, no crow, not even a knight.
I immediately took action, now flying again. I swarmed over Winters head, scratching and clawing at his scalp, and he would swing his arms at me, eventually showing accuracy of knocking me into another tree. I felt I couldn’t move, but it would all change, when Fall would say my name.
“Idra! Remember! You’ve got to remember!” Fall said, and before she could say another word Winter would drive his cold sword through Falls heart. I cried, and I became full of rage—Winter now wielded an eye of gold and an eye of blue.
I remained on the ground wondering what Fall, what I believed to be Josie, meant by remember—and then it hit me, it all started to come back. I was never a crow, it was only our disguise from the human world—I was Summer.
“Ah… I see you’ve come to your senses. I figured killing that whore of yours would do the trick.” Winter said as he smiled cynically, but I remained silent, as my skin now boiled with the heat of the sun. “Don’t make me fucking laugh! I am Winter and now fall, and I’ll tell you a secret I am spring as well, yes, I was after all.” Winter said.
My heart dropped, I remembered Spring, he was only a child, a little boy. At this point, additional words were not needed, the fight would begin, and the war would end one way or another.
Winter was incredibly strong, stronger than I thought. He was not fazed by my heat, he only laughed at it for that it seemed to give him pleasure. But there was one thing Winter forgot—summer always melts ice. Although, as I raised temperature of myself, it was seemed it wasn’t enough, I needed more energy.
Rumbles in the ground I once felt before, would reveal themselves again. Nothing but beautiful woman surrounded me as they yelled the name Josie—my power would then become stronger and Winters weaker.
“Wretched skanks! I kill you all!” Winter yelled, as he went from a level of ten to one hundred, but this time it was enough. Winter began to melt, his skin began to peel, he’s stared screaming to the heavens, “God is this real,” and no answer was given. My left eye became blue, and my right became gold, my skin remained the pigment of the sun, and then it was revealed.
“You think you’ve won,” yelled an innocent voice. It was Spring—just a child all along, but why I asked. And before he faded, he smiled, telling me that we were too old to rule the world, that one day a new generation would wipe us all. But I still didn’t understand, I thought things were fine, just as they were when we soared the skies.
And as I stood in the middle of a reeking battlefield, I’d still wonder why I was created, why I was here—what I was.