A Spirit of Iron

[mishalak]

I can hear the spirit of iron singing its simple endless melody. Not just the song within just iron, but a spirit of iron. It is a living thing within each beam of the ancient bridge over its dry gulch. The wizard's sight reveals the life here, some inside the rocks and some of the scrubby trees, but stronger and different than these is the life in the bridge. Planted here in a long ago age by builders who surely intended that it would stand for thousands of years, but could they have seen where it is now? Perhaps they thought it would be part of an eternal trade route, but instead it stands in a near wilderness now. Connecting up nearly empty lands and providing a way for the interment and secretive travelers to and from the shadow lands. To the east a boarder to be defeated to the west another and between this dry no mans land.

The spirits in each of the bridge's beams do not care about politics. They live as they have for so very long, repairing the damage caused to the iron by time, weather, and what little traffic passes this way. In return they receive the shelter of this well designed structure as a coral reef in costal waters might shelter life and be built by it in turn. And now I shelter under the thirty or so yards of the span out the sight of anyone who might be searching from above.

Comments

What a trip

[(Anonymous)]

Man what a group of ideas. Moving from reality to pretend. I am thinking of the writings and tales of Celtic lore. What makes you think of these things?

Re: What a trip

[mishalak.livejournal.com]

Here is my factually true answer.

I like to build worlds. And I'm deeply immersed in Slavic legend where magic is pretty much all about spirits. I'm imagining a world where such spirit magic completely replaces the laws of physics and technology. Matter is sung into shape by spirits, it is created by and given its properties from the actions of spirits.

Why?

Because different spirits have different sorts of ecologies. Some of them live in the air, some in water, some in earth, some in living things. But not everything has a great spirit. Some things just have their songs within them as they were sung into them when they were created, little spirits. Things that have a spirit that can change the environment or their host are the great spirits.

I'm dreaming of a world. A world where an ancient species that all have great spirits created humans in imitation of themselves to be workers. But in the long, long centuries they have slowly declined in numbers and eventually there was a war between humans and their relatives with some of the Bóginki on one side, and one the other side the loyal humans and the majority of the Bóginki. A war of ideology, a war of survival for both, and it stopped after a terrible time with the invention of a terrible new weapon. A weapon dead of spirit. The two sides have not been at war since, but neither are they at peace. After three centuries war might be coming again, but will anyone win?

I'll post my true story answer later on this evening.

Re: Critic At Large

[(Anonymous)]

Very Good, my friend. Of the stories I have read, this is by far the best. You have learned well. The only critique, keep this section for a story you have stored in your soul. As you progress in the story, make sure you add part of the story of your soul. As you advance in the ages, expand more to this section.
Tolkien pulled from his life to write HIS story into his stories.
Be careful though, you have a very good polish on these two paragraphs. Continue to polish. Like sterling, it is good by itself. To add a ribbon or paint distracts and even ugly's something beautiful in itself. Continue to polish to bring out more of what is already here.
I look forward to see where this will be found in your final, final draft.