Sway

[ludster]

     

Beauty.

      
Mother always said beauty must come from any inch.

Father said grace was just integral as manners.

 

But above all, discipline and poise was principal.

  

Yet,

Is that truly a way to live?

   

   

Form takes many shapes. It shifts beyond what many can comprehend, moving from one idealized figure into another. Form like water, capable of taking any contour; form like wind, swirling at the behest of one's whims. Never once does it bend nor does it ever break. And yet, many seem to find a way to accomplish something so forlorn. Why is that so?

   

One, two, three. Each jaded step, every surfeited jete, even to the very last lunge; one is not to falter. Errors are left as that, errors. Many claim that such a miscalculation should be left as that. However, in this line of avocation, many are expectant of the complete utter lack of it.

   
It's funny. An act like this is meant to be expressive, is it not? Then why, oh why, must certain feelings be muted? Is pain not an expression? Are mistakes not an aspect to explore unto further? Why am I bound to restrict my own actions by a code of rigid flexibility? Would the removal of such even deem the notion as something human?

   

Many many questions. And yet, none have ever been answered.

   

Is this truly the path meant for one as I? One who seeks to take on the skies, yet be bound to the earth by my own kin? Perhaps this is merely a cosmic decree. After all, many claim such is merely a branch of fate. "Oh you were born for this!" they said, "You are destined to follow the same success as your ménage!" others claim. But perhaps the one that has been drilled far deeply in my skull was that from my mother, "The stars has destined you of this future, do not let it go to waste." As if the shoe has been preemptively donned, whether I like it or not.

   

Well then, perhaps those twinkling eyes deserve to be proven wrong.

     

[ludster]

     

Pray tell, stranger.

Have you ever been oppressed before?
           
Because, let me tell you...
  
         

      
    

...you haven't lived until you have.

  
 

     

    

A dance is nothing without a purpose. Though some moves are done at a grander scale when done in a winged freeform manner, it still bears a purpose. Never is a step blasted just for the sake of movement, lest it becomes akin to spazzing out on the floor. There is nothing to learn from that, now is there? Thusly so, much like a dance, one's actions always come from a reason. Every response exists solely to accomplish a goal. Though not all might know of such a goal, yet it exists somewhere, perhaps some had simply just not found it yet.

   

However, not every dance is the same. And not every dance is well loved.

  

One will not see a tap dancer following the whims of samba. A ballroom dancer cannot be expected to find solace in making the moves of a break dance. And one so acclimated to ballet might find it confusing whence they watch one jive into something less contemporary. On it's own, it is a harmony amidst a world of movement. Yet when sized up next to each other, well, perhaps that becomes a different story...

      
   

    
  

Perhaps the world is simply not ready for my dance.

After all, it's going to challenge everything they believe in.
  
And we already know what happens when you slight the comfortable.
  
They start a tantrum.
  
Well then...

  

   

  

   

...keep crying.

Wuss.

[ludster]

   
    

Upon the snippings of time does its march finds its end.
The hourglass runs out of sand, the timer finds no more purchase,
and the minute finds no more seconds to progress.
   

   

Not many can say they know someone enough without seeing them dance. Yet, at times, many do wonder what I mean when I say this. Not everyone is gifted with the ability to sway their form in a uniform and beauteous concordance of rhythm and motion. However, there's always some satisfaction in me when I blatantly tell them that such a close-minded ideal is so traditional and old-fashioned.
   
Everyone is capable of dance.
  
It may not be the same dance that you and me are familiar with, yet one's advancement through life can be a dance in its own rite.
   
Well, one friend of mine has always danced their brightest. A flurry of movement that will forever be engraved in my memories. By no means were they as graceful as me, yet their efforts alone were enough to push even me to pursue further greatness. If anything had reminded me of such a star amidst the void, they unleash such a blinding visage that they sway like the lights of a lighthouse, guiding boats to their destination. An anchor they were, or at least that's what I'd like to think I'd call them. 
   
Yet, as I always know, all dances need an end. An eternal sway is no way to live; even if that means allowing the call of fate to lead to your eventual rest. A fated end; something many often call an unescapable fate. Something I absolutely despise hearing.
   
If only I had a stronger grip at the strands, a better look at what could have been, more will. Perhaps we would have had one more dance, huh?

   

   
Goodnight, sweet prince.

Until the next time your wingbeats grace our winds.

[ludster]

     

Time is fickle. Fate is unkind.

This much I already understand.

So why...

   

Why does it still hurt every time?

  

   

Foolish is what some might call the gambit you played; heroic would others deem it as; and some might even go on, calling you a martyr of sorts for what you have done. To spark something grander, even in your death; as if you were more than just your actions, but your presence as well.

 

Maybe that is why this dance I offer unto you is not one of grieving, but one of respect.

  

To honor your word, not through whimpers and sobs, but through celebration of what you had accomplished. Because surely, others could only hope to achieve what you had done in your lifetime, no matter how abrupt it may have been. To be beholden to her presence, to inspire ire for the next generation, to become a man who had become oh so confident in what he has become. Surely, people will actually miss you.

   

And yet, mourning is not in my nature. To show your pain to others is often perceived as a sign of weakness. And yet, when you drew your last breath, I shed a tear. That happens oh so rarely, you know? Take that as you will. I'm sure you know we all had the utmost respect for you and you know I'm not one to ramble.

  

Thus, for now, this dance is for you.

 

Remember us.

  

As I can assure, we—and the entirety of Esshar—will remember you.

 

This dance may have been your last.
However the ripples of your influence goes on.
Your wings will continue to flourish.
   
And in her arrival will we see you once more.
   
   
Goodbye.

[ludster]

 

They told me this was only a phase.

Others were assured that their way was superior to mine.

It was as if I was set up for failure.

 

Well,
look at me now,
mom, dad...

 

 

The tower had been far too quiet. Amidst its hallowed halls, the silent echoes of missing footprints signify an utter lack of life for the past days that has marched on. Preparations had been far too taxing to the new family I had found. And yet, here I am, unable to stay still. Perhaps it's why I've been drawn back to you, dear diary. Perhaps it's why I still keep you around.

 

I came to tell you that I did it.

 

A dream, nothing more than a dream. Like wisps in the wind, this was nothing but musings in my head. Wishes, wants, hopes. A new life that I yearned for, one I have oh so wished to grasp... it has finally turned around. To shed the life I was born in, to go after and become what I truly desired to be. It is as I had hoped all those years ago when I left: my life will be in my own hands and my own hands alone.

 

No amount of devotion can topple my own. The shadow above my head and the wings before my back is the physical proof of my piety. Turn my back upon a life not worth living as I bask upon a new one, birthed by my own whims and decided on by me and me alone. I fly from the cage imposed upon me with wings I've sprouted from my own.

   

My mark upon this world is made. A dream accomplished, success that they will never take from me.

 

  

Maybe I just wanted to rub the fact in their faces.

  

Because I truly do want to remind them...

 

   

...that I'm finally free.

[ludster]

  

Everything has an end.

Does life truly have meaning if it has none?

  

No, no it doesn't.

 

  

To think. Even the very warden of time finds an end. Her final concerto, the choregraphed march of life... now finalizing its outro? Color me unsurprised, for this much, I've foreseen as early as the day chronomancy began to course through my veins.

  

I have nothing for you. No flowery words, no obfuscated dance, no witty banter. All I have left to you are words.

 

Immortality is not something meant for all. Time will continue, and not a soul should go against its tide; not a single person is to go against fate. There is only so much a single person could do to control and hold fate itself. As someone who had devoted their life to holding one's fate in their own hands, take it from me.  You cannot control fate, for it can only be meld and adjusted to come upon your whims.

 

Perhaps it is why endings are no longer dark. 

The bleakness had become nonexistent. Is this what they call being calm amidst the end? Had this been what my fallen companions had experienced in their demise? I could only hope so. Because to witness one's fall and to know that success was assured from it, how could I not refuse? All for her, all for Naysien.

 

To the people that took me in. To the ones that had stayed with me against adversity. To those that had fallen and those that survived. Let your wings flourish. Let those that let their future roll them over covet what you had gained.

 

And to you, my dear brother. Live on the life I had decreed. I hope that you know, I wanted this.

 

For her brood's glory and for yours.

 

 

I live with no regrets.

And up to this end did my life fall onto my hands.

In this end have I decreed...

   

My legacy will flourish.