Wind and Wood
There is a wood through which mists
play at evening. Sometimes languidly drifting, then darting to and fro.
At rare times in the quiet of night colours are to be seen amidst the
mists. Emerald and purple dance and assume shapes not fit for lights
The wind slithers through the leaves
in the wood. In the heart of night the breeze shuffles the mists about,
seeking to come upon lights of green and purple. Never has the wind
felt them, though the lights have played upon the air at night.
There is a man in the village of Chamaiz listening to the wind search
the wood. Softly the wind calls him away to seek colour in the night.
Silently he goes.
A single note, pure and clear, echoes
throughout the wood. As it fades Tyras finds himself in the wood accompanied
by the wind. The breeze says: "this way, this way...", pushing
Tyras forward incessantly. Through the wood search wind and man. Wind
brushing the mists away as Tyras uses his eyes to seek out colour amidst
The wind disperses a patch of mists with a flick of its tail. Tyras
spies a hint of colour. The note sound again, full and resounding. Suddenly
mists encircle man and wind which the wind cannot disperse. They are
made to travel the wood.
The note sounds a third time, brilliant and sustained. Instead of fading
out it seems to rise beyond hearing. As it does the mists open themselves
to reveal a clearing within the wood.
The mists spread around the clearing
in a circle. In the center are two lights. Coloured globes of emerald
A note sounds as the purple light grows brighter. The note swells, as
does the light, finally stretching up and out to a peak and vanishing.
The green light is bright but deep, coming in with a bass tone moaning
and rolling over the clearing. Thus begins a work of music composed
of slowly shifting tones entwining around each other. The mists revolve
to the left around the clearing. The lights dance with and within the
circle. The intensity of light determines or shows the tone. Soft light
for muted tones, brilliant light for clear ones. The movements of their
bodies, the twisting, stretching, rolling - these are all parts of the
song. At times the lights play the same tone simultaneously, one an
octave raised (or lowered). Then alternating trills would dance through
Just when the wind departs Tyras cannot say. He is caught up into music
beyond hearing. It interacts with one subtly.
The wind leaves the wood to find another, there to harass the mists
whenever able. When the music stops Tyras looks about him and sees only
mists in place of the wind.
A mile or so west of Chamaiz there
lies a wood which no wind ever stirs. Mists idle about the wood at evening
and are at times even so bold as to venture forth by day. Sometimes,
deep in the heart of night, amethyst and emerald lights dance among