by Sarah Stribley

Created on: August 11, 2009   Last Updated: August 18, 2009

Excerpts From: "The Snake Heart"

Dragonflies swarmed around the eerie flames, their iridescent wings catching the light and shimmering like many fluttering stars. They seemed unaffected by the mystic fire, for they neither died nor wavered away from the dazzling heat it emitted.

A man stood watching the blaze, he had taken the place of the peacock but his sapphire robes were reminiscent of the bird's feathers. His brown eyes reflected the flames, their every flutter and fiery tongue was mirrored in the unmoving all-seeing orbs.

The trunk rippled, and a ringed hand broke through the bark's agitated surface, stretching forth and beckoning to the Sea Wing.

The Phalith approached the burning tree and knelt before it, his hands gripping at some wandering roots and his long hair trailing in the thick carpet of leaves.

A sudden breeze exploded from the north, dragging at Xhionoto's clothing and tearing at his face with its ghostly hands. Around him, the forest was a whirlwind of leaves and branches, birds flew up from the oaks in dark screeching clouds of feather and wings. Petals and blossoms fluttered about him, like fragrant snow that dusted the ground in a sheath of yellow and orange. Vines and ferns whipped about uncontrollably, their long tendrils and fronds cutting through the air and there roots groaning under the wind's force. The tree spirit's image billowed in the wind as though its body were made of smoke, and the wind tore it away from the tree.

Xhionoto looked up, his dark eyes staring at the rippling figure, it looked as though the tree's soul were tearing away from it. The gale picked up and the spirit howled, its airy voice combining with the wind's and echoing through the forest. Its screams grew louder and more intense, like a banshee shrieking out a dying man's destiny. The wind finally died down; from a wild moaning animal ,to the whisper of a memory, to nothing but the flutter of leaves and dragonfly wings.

Once more, the river's fluid song wove its way into the forest, between trees and flowers, pouring itself into shadows and glittering in the sun's warming beams. Flowers swayed lazily under the weight of their blossoms and the occasional bee would dance indecisively around a mixed patch of lilies and wild roses.

Xhionoto turned away as the spirit's unclothed body solidified, waiting until it gathered a length of brown material about its form.

"Xhionoto, you may look upon your brother."

The Sea Wing turned slowly, keeping his eyes

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