Penny: Hi people! This is yours truly, the author. And this is the revised version of... that's right! First And Eldest, Part I. sigh I remember when I first started writing. This was my first ever fic. But I fixed it up a little bit. I didn't like how it was before, and here it is.
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I see . . .Darkness. Cool pleasant darkness. I feel . . . Water washing over my skin, caressing my limbs. Grasses swaying in rhythm with the water. I hear . . . the water trickling. I think . . . I never want to rise. The quiet is pleasant to my ears. The darkness is healing to my eyes. The water nourishes my soul.
The first sunrise . . . Gradual, smooth, red then orange then yellow. A rhapsody of colors beautifully melded. Then, blinding to my eyes. I seek shelter from the terrible sun and return to the river, to the cool, pleasant darkness sheltering my skin.
First thoughts . . . What is life for? First worrying question. I wish . . . nothing. I cannot yet wish.
First thoughts send me to the earth to learn life's purpose. Send me where my body does not wish to go.
I live and live and live. Why? I will learn soon.
I have learned much. I have learned that when my hands come together a light appears. I have learned that when my hand is laid upon something it is called touching. I have learned that when a live thing turns brown then it is dead. I have learned that my state under that river was death. I have learned that I want to live. I have learned that I can go into the water but I cannot stay there like I did before life. As I said, I have learned very much.
I live days, hours, and weeks.. How long? Alone with my light. I can feel the currents in the water and the air. I have learned that I am connected to all that is. I can make sounds with my mouth, but I am never able to make the sounds that I think.
I wonder much. I wonder why I am alone. I wonder if there is anyone else. I wonder what alone means. I wonder why I wonder. I wonder why I think. I wonder what for. I wonder as I walk, as I sleep, as I breathe. Wondering has become my way of life. I wonder why .
. .
I heal the big plants that shelter me from the raging sun with my hands. My hands that bring forth the light. I heal the little plants that heal the burns I receive from the sun. I count time by the rising and setting of the great globe of sun of the sky. I count time by the waxing and waning of the sun that does not give off heat. I practice counting by the fragments of the sun that does not give heat that glisten in the sky.
I sleep when I am tired and wake when I am rested. I make any bed comfortable with grass. Heat is fear for me. Heat is no necessity.
I fell asleep one time when the sun rose. It was too hot and I sheltered under the big plant with broad leaves. I was weary and I fell asleep though I did not know that I was tired.
I opened my eyes and in the light of the sun that gives no heat, I saw something that I did not recognize. It was something that was not part of my daily routine of walking and healing. As I sank back into weariness, I saw a lock of golden hair... golden like the sun though not as blinding. The entreating eyes buryied themselves in my soul, following me into the darkness.