It wasn't for the sake of nobility or honor that he protected her. Even though those characteristics shown through his exterior of hardened warrior demeanor, those traits seemed to be almost extrinsic, as though they weren't naturally a part of him. His true nature was to destroy, to keep balance, to bring death about to those things that needed to be snuffed out and start over in a new life somewhere at some other point in time. He was an angel, but not the way people usually think of angels. He was a dark angel full of light, which meant that there was nothing he wouldn't do if it meant performing his duty to protect this child.
Her age was not important to him. Age was a misconception hinged on the illusion of time. And time had no impact on him; he was an eternal sentient being. He didn't know whether or not she was an ancient who had come around again in this life from another, but he knew she seemed much older that any other child he had encountered simply based on her inherent wisdom and impeccable insight. She carried herself with a grace that seemed supernatural and was elegant even in her childlike play. He studied her mannerisms and behaviors with intent fascination and deep curiosity. No- she could not be the age she appeared to be in the flesh.
She giggled like silvery bells and when she spoke to him, "Come! See! Look what I have done!" he broke away from his deep ponderings of her and his eyes once again focused on the reality all around him. He squinted his eyes slightly and swallowed as if his thoughts would go down with the wetness in his mouth. He pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against with only the force of his gigantic shoulder and stood upright. He made his way towards her, his massive wings dragging behind him, and met her with a softened face, but without smile. Curious at what she had summoned him to look at, he peered over her shoulder and looked at what she was crouching over.
He wasn't surprised at what he saw, yet he was completely in awe at what she had done. There before them grew a miniscule wild flower, so white even the sunlight seemed dim. It glowed and sparkled in such a way that he grasped at various terms in his mind to even describe the magnificence and the elegance this flower emanated. There was no vocabulary he knew of that could express how much power and glory radiated out from this miniature blossom. The longer he stared at it, the brighter it became. Was it singing? Could this vegetation actually be singing? He swore he could hear the audible symphonies of heavenly realms echoing forth from it!
"Come. It's time for us to move on.", he softly explained to her. He knew that the band of outlaws that were hunting them would be catching up with them soon. And that would mean certain death for him and the most unimaginable tormented slavery for her. They wouldn't use her gift for the light it was meant to bring, but for dark and unseemly purposes full of greed and bloodshed. He shuddered at the dark desires of shameful men and motivated himself for the journey ahead.
"But I'm not ready to go yet. I have more blossoms to grow and the sun is still low in the morning sky." She hated the long, arduous trekking of this migration. She wanted desperately to sit in the sun and grow the Gardens of paradise. She tremendously enjoyed coaxing new life to stretch, grow, thrive, expand and succeed in its rightful existence in the gardens of this world. She was born for this undertaking; commissioned for new life, as it were. She wanted to stay and invent new fragrances of sweet and delicate origins and match them with various hues of purples, yellows and pinks balanced on top of glaucous and emerald stalks and stems. She desired to bring out the flickering shimmers and phosphorescent lumination of magic that was hidden inside of each bloom.
For a brief moment, he gazed at her not as if she were a child, but as if she were a young maiden. Maybe it was the woven garland of flowers atop of her head, or maybe it was the way the sun radiated around her round face and flared in her hair as if it were on fire. Maybe it was the maturity in which she portrayed herself or the way she moved like a swan instead of a duckling. Or could it even be the way her voice echoed like aeons of lifetimes encapsulated within her?
He quickly snapped out his thoughts and came back to the moment. He would rather allow her to sit and create beautiful life, too, but that would only mean death. The exquisiteness of her masterpieces brought deep tranquility to his troubled soul. He wondered if there would ever be an end to evil men and dark forces. He longed for respite. But she was his obligation, his responsibility, and she had to be kept safe. She was the only thing that mattered to him and he would not let down the One who commissioned him, who entrusted him, to protect her. She was the treasure, not the things she created.
"I'm sorry, love, but we must keep moving. I promise I'll let you Garden when we get to our next resting spot. Come. Give me your hand." He reached out his massive hand and grasped her tiny fingers with a firm grip but with gentleness, as if he were grabbing the petals of a rose. He pulled her up to her feet and brushed the flyaway strands of golden and bronze hair from her face. He didn't smile with his mouth, but he smiled with his stoic eyes somehow.
As they set out once again, hand in hand, the miniature flower's heavenly song faded in the distance. It saddened his heart to have to make her leave like this, but his love for her kept his Spirits up. He chuckled to himself lightly as he took one step for every three of her little steps, and as he turned to take a mental picture of the scene behind them, he could see where his massive wings had swept away their footsteps, hiding their path from those who hunted them. He knew they would be safe and he knew she would bring about the Garden to this world. And just for fun, he wisped her up into his extraordinarily large arms and took flight, just so she could see the Gardens she had created behind them. Seeing the life underneath them, they clung to each other and she knew she was safe and he knew he was triumphant.
Really you beautiful art photographer.. thanks for sharing..
No, thanks for seeing value in my life's work
*Cheers
That's slot of imagery! Keep posting!