From a Voice Disappeared

[skeith8]

"Black, black, black to blue
Upon the ending, dying strings
A faded heart, a sombre melody
The start of one life, the death of another"

I am who....? My eyes strained against the blanket of cloudy gray, mist swelling the ephemeral breeze as it picked through my hair, tainting it something wicked. I heard that song, but I didn't know where it was originating from...my hands could not touch it, my eyes could not invision it...my nostrils could not smell it even when it was living so strongly, vibrant. Is it the breeze that creates such a tune?

"uya...re...uya...re...uya....re...uya...re" Over and over, that same chant, like a ritualisting pounding in my ear. I formed my mouth to try to say it myself, but it filled my throat with a sob. From the black came a wave of vision...and figures, others like myself and yet even more others unlike myself. But who is myself? uya...re....Uyare is me. I am Uyare, and uyare is the dark void. All at once I was aware of one of them like myself...his eyes were like daggers to my flesh, and they picked me apart.

Despite the tingling that racked my entire body, I lifted my feet from the ground one after the other, and slapped them down in a sprint. Other eyes still haunted me. I was never there...they could not understand, for I was and am nothing. I am Uyare,and Uyare is me...dark void.

There was something on my face, something that made me who I am, and that something is still with me. I could not see my face, but even moreso, I could not see inside of my face, inside where it was supposed to matter. The rain stung me, but I was already numb. A grunt echoed to my left...I was not alone, yet I was estranged...I am the very epitomy of lonliness, that and notihng more. The young warrior's life force was week, and streams of crimson stained the tattered cloths that encased his fatigued body. A monstrous creature continued to batter him...

Never had I seen such a vile act. My stomach upset...and the chanting voices in my head grew ever stronger. Suddenly a warmth spread through my hands, alighting my hidden face which is streaked with tears more bitter than the freezing rain. My body became as a fragile feather...I closed my eyes. Black black black...Then blue. My name is Uyare, and that is all...Uyare is the dark void, but in order for there to be darkness there must be light. If not, how would one distinguish the dark and the light?

Even now I can still feel the after effects of my deed. The chanting has died to a murmer. The young warrior thanked me with his eyes...but soon I felt the daggers again. If I would have stayed...he would have been swallowed up in the darkness that is me.

Sitting beside a tree now, I try to find the thing called a voice...but it does not sufrace. The only words in blackness are the ones in the sea of thought. The only melody is the one the breeze carries...The only purpose for one with a voice disappeared....is to help others, for one cannot help oneself without the voice of opinion. I am not a person, I am the void. I am Uyare,and Uyare is me.

The voices I long for...they still chant within me.

The eyes are still like sharp blades of destruction.

The only song is the ambience of darkness.

The only true story is from a voice....disappeared.

[skeith8]

"Enchant the soul with the dark deeds
The hands crave blood to sacrifice for themselves
A bond of eternal atonement
Your voice, it cries out without making a sound..."

They wanted to accept me, fully...as a part, but I ran...and soon they were the disappeared ones. All that was left was emptiness and a hollow heart inside of my swelled chest. I used my lips today, to speak...they asked of me, my name, but I never asked for theirs in return. It makes no difference, a name...except the one I bear as a sigma pins me to eternal damnation.

Here, there was another who sat, legs folded tenderly underneath him, his eyes not daggers, but rays of purest light. I never knew what name he held either, but his skin was that of mine...With honey from the hidden mouth, he made promises to help me find a voice in this land, which the voices in my head called Atys. I liked the sound...and I now say it repeatedly, my eyes not seeing anything but the essence of the word, and not the cold air I feel against my skin. I am Uyare...Uyare is the void...but the void is also a place of grand emotion....

I wish his eyes were here to warm me with flickering stares and genuine compassion, one I have not seen by any other being. A darkness follows as he is gone...and then another...female, comes to me, asking for assistance in the ways of magicks. For a moment the world stopped and I felt as if I were becoming a part. The strains of my scratchy words almosy lightened with extended belonging, and then the bells called to me. I refer to his speech as "bells" because it resembles the sound I had long forgotten since I awoke nearly naked in this frightful land of many. Too many. Bells, shimmering the air with holy melodies and waves of forgetfulness, sometimes too pure to thoroughly enjoy. Where they originate from in the depths of this memory, it is not to my knowlege...I willonly have to pray that I find it again one day. After he has returned.

Death is a most horrible thing...there was no hope, and though I roughened my hands with heated magick, the homin's eyes never fluttered even a bit...But from death comes new life....thus is the cycle....It is what HE said. Void is absense of life...when I am gone, what will come from my place...

We talked long after showing the female the correct path...I let him take her alone, as I felt that maybe my accompanying them would be a tiresome burden. Sometimes my feet are slow like amber dripping from a wounded tree. Talking is a wonderous thing even if one does not have a voice. Words can give expression and so much meaning. "uya..re..uya...re..uya...re.." That is my name, and the chanting sings it to me constantly, so much that he worries for me. It cannot be helped....Uyare is the meaning of void, which is what I am...as I told him.

"I hear your voice perfectly." He said to me, and I first didn't understand, and I oculd not hear my voice being spoken at all. His eyes shot their warmth at me again, forcing me into a response.

"...my voice is cloudy and without opinion...all hominkind seek war and filthy things..."

With this he stood, and I felt my head follow him. The blue stranger is a built warrior, and the very length of his full height makes my audible voice stick deep within the baren corridors in my throat. "...I will help you find your voice, and then you will realize that there are others out there like us as well, even if their voices are small..." These still fester in my mind, along with the chantings....along with the void. When he left it was a cold wind piercing my heart. I am once again alone...alone and without a voice....

Even now, as I lay in the dark corners of my head, my body curled from exhaustion, I think of the aspects he speaks on. My eyes want to see his physical form, but myheart wants to stare inside of him a bit longer, to linger there...his voice is a strong one, and all of Atys rejoices at it. I feel mediocre, but his song of encouragement gives me hope. Now I can close my eyes and not feel so afraid of what I am...the void within people's hearts that they have come so far to detest. With my healing power, I cannot only reach a homin, but I can reach a world dying away....

I am Uyare, and Uyare is the void...