Tales and Fables
INSPIRED BY MY OWN WORKS AND OTHERS...
His solitude seemed to weight on his shoulders, but he saw it as a constant companion since he made the desolate ruins of the little chapel inside the colosseum his home and sanctuary all those years ago. Each step he took echoed through the ancient stone arches, breaking the profound silence of the aged structure.
His eyes traced the intricate details etched upon the stones, like the first time his eyes discovered them and his mind pictured the cheering crowds and gladiators that once filled these halls. He paused and leaned against the brick wall and sighted. "It's getting late", he whispered while looking up to the sky. He had been walking aimlessly for hours and the night was getting darker. He turned a corner and, like a whisper from the distant, a gentle breeze brushed against his wrinkled face, carrying with it a lively tune full of joy and energy. He straightened up and smiled, his eyes sparkled in the dark. "Yes, I'm coming. Almost there." He quickened his pace with each step resonating with the lingering rythm of an invisible orchestra, the very stones beneath his feet vibrating to an ancient tune long forgotten. The old hermit arrived to the little chapel nested in the heart of the colosseum and entered the sacred space that has been his home. He approached the arched wooden door, it's colors, once vibrant, faded to a soft time-worn patina. With a gentle push, the door swang open, creacking on its rusted hinges. The fire, left burning at the center of the chapel's nave, was now fading, its flames flickering weakly, its embers reduced to feeble glows, its crackling voice now a mere whisper. The hermit, with a delicate touch, placed each log carefully and watched the flames dancing with renewed fervor and its warm glow casting dancing shadows upon the chapel's fragments of murals and rows of broken benches. As he waited in the tranquil chapel, he looked up to vast expanse of the night sky that stretched out above him, through the remnants of the chapel's wooden roof and the crumbling arches of the mighty colosseum. The anticipation inside his heart grew stronger as the stars seemed to dance in the velvety darkness. He began to hear the whispered melodies unfolding deep within the ancient and dark corridors of the arena and a smile appeared upon his lips. The old hermit sat down on an aged wooden bench and his eyes gazed at the doorway in anticipation. There she was, standing in the doorway, illuminated by the soft moonlight and by the fire's glow. They faced each other, their eyes meeting. "Hello again, dear friend." she spoke softly , her voice like a serene melody. She approached him, her steps as light as a whisper, her movements flowing and graceful. The hermit greeted her "It's good to see you once again" and invited her, with a gesture, to join him by the fire. She approached the fire, its flames casting a warm glow contrasting the light blue of her flowing gown. "I have missed our conversations" he said. "Have been hearing the melodies in the night, dear friend, for some time". She smiled. "My apologies for the delay, old friend. I have been locked in the lost echoes, you see." The old man's weathered face expressed a mixture of empathy and concern, his heart swelled with compassion and understanding, for he knew the weight of being locked in the embrace of silence. "In your absence, I felt the burden of silence" he nodded. "Tell me, speak of the echoes that held you captive, my friend." She seemed to retrace the steps of her wanderings, her eyes carrying the weight of a thousand stories. She hesitated before speaking. "Oh, dear hermit, the echoes in the night, they can be warm and hopeful, telling stories of old dances from long ago, from a place I cannot remember where. Celebrations of life, of joy, of pure bliss that transcends words." her gaze met his "but there are melodies echoing out there, haunting, scattered, like stardust upon the winds. Dwelve too much in their haunting beauty and they'll bind you ." "At first they pulled me deeper into their grasp, like intangible threads unraveled and anchored in a labyrinth of fragments of past lives and untold tales." A soft breeze swept through the colosseum's arches and the little chapel's little windows, once vibrant with the kaleidoscope of stained glass, now lost to the ravages of time. "Listen", she whispered, "do you hear them?" Slowly the rythm of an invisible orchestra stirred the air, followed by a mournful melody drifting through the crumbled pillars of the chapel's nave and gradually faded into a faint echo. She felt a tremor with a misture of fear and excitment as the melodies stirred within her. The hermit stared at her in silence, his face manifesting a myriad of emotions. "It's calling for me, for us" she closed her eyes. The old man felt uneasy and got closer to her, filled with concern and fear. The melodies that once accompanied her arrival and filled with solace and comfort, now would hold her captive , pulling her back and leaving him again in the realm of silence and solitude. "Wait," he said, his voice no longer confident. "Will you continue to be pulled by the haunting echoes and..." he hesitated and whispered "return to me? What of the melodies in the night fail to lure you back to me, to this realm and instead lead you deeper into the darkness?" She got closer to the old man and with a comforting reassurance, she said "Though the echoes keep luring me and try once more to hold me captive, the melodies no longer bind me. Their hold has weakened since I have met you, dear friend." she smiled "And as I accept them as a part of who I am." Her eyes looked determined, her lips holding a gentle smile. "Fear not, my dear friend, I will remain vigilant against their enchantment and their whispers." She placed her hand on the hermit's weathered face, filling his soul with her warmth. The hermit nodded, a bittersweet smile in his lips. The haunting sounds emerged again, from the dark night above and the sahdows around, their ethereal notes like spectral tendrils, entwined themselves around his senses. The hermit gently squeezed her hand, as if he wanted to keep her with him. He could feel the melodies's enchantment and danger. "I promise, dear hermit, that I will find my way back to you. We are bound by our own melodies. Remember me through them, dancing in the wind, whispers of our conversations and our moments." With these words she stood up, walked into the unknown, and the melodies now fading and the echoes diminishing, she glanced back to the old man. He watched her departure, with longing, that one day he would see her once more. Comments are closed.
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