The AwakeningA Story by raven glassboneThis is just something that tumored its way into my head. Could be a good introduction to E L E, but I may dabble with a few different ideas to play that role...It didn’t take long for Nomad to wake from his deep slumber. He could feel his chest pounding through his breastbone. Slightly out of breath and still groggy he places his right hand on his face and traces the scar over his right eye. Keeping his left eye closed, it was difficult to notice whether or not it was still dark or if there was light peaking though the dusty windows of the derelict room. The lack of vision in his right eye was a blessing in its own right. Even though he couldn’t feel his fingers tracing the vertical scar, he still felt the pain. It wasn’t a physical pain; it was brought on by the memory of how he almost lost his eye. A moment in his life he is forced to relive as he sleeps, the reverberating nightmare that makes him who he is today haunts him to never forget. He opens his functioning eye and looks around the room. Nothing has changed. He starts to wonder if the stagnant moment in his life is a blessing or a curse. Wandering from one location to another, never seeing a familiar face or learning a new name; this is how he spends his days. He only sleeps for a few hours at best and the strain was beginning to weld itself onto his face. The dimly lit room revealed too much to him and he needed more than anything to escape. He grabbed his sword and placed the tip into the floor to ease himself to his feet. The cold concrete made his body feel sore, but it comforted him at the same time. He remembered a time where he would do what it took to earn enough coin to afford a bed for the evening. He also remembered a time when he used to smile. Those days seem so distant to him now; another life lived by something long since dead. It was difficult for him to face himself for what he is now. Despite this, he knew deep within himself this was not an internal struggle; for that meant there was motion in his life. The only motion he was aware of was his endless travels to nowhere. Reaching into his pocket, he scanned for a small tin box and from it withdrew a black cigarette and a book of matches. There was only one match left. He used it to light the cigarette and peered out the only window in the room he could see out of for a view of his surroundings. Dawn was breaking yet the sun just couldn’t break through the clouds. The sky was a dark blue, but soon it would turn grey. Nomad was all too familiar with this pattern. He’s seen this sight far too many times amidst the crumbling cities and desolate wastelands. Remnants of life that used to flourish and thrive on its own weight now serve as a graveyard museum of a world he never knew. It was time to begin again, he thought to himself. In the foreground he loathed every step he took. Gaining ground, step by step, to reach a location he’d never seen before without any real reason for him to be there at all. But with every wasted measurable distance he covered, he told himself it was a step closer to learning the reason why he travelled like this in the first place. Even if this was an outright lie, he had to convince his mind and his body to press on without restraint. He gave himself the name ‘Nomad’ for a reason, but this was not that reason. He made his way out of the abandoned town house and gazed at the empty street toward the hints of a rising sun in the distance. “Today is a new day,” he said to himself. He gave off a small yet quiet laugh at himself for saying as such and started walking opposite the dawn’s horizon. “I’d better focus if I’m going to break this annoying habit of mine.” Nomad took one last drag from his cigarette and tossed it away as he made his way down the center of the road. He didn’t like the cards he was dealt, but he felt determined to play his hand wisely. © 2011 raven glassboneAuthor's Note
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