“Spirit Run” – part 14 … aka The End

Phew. It was more than a month ago when I began this little venture and now it’s come to a close. I want to pat myself on the back or have someone do it for me, but that won’t be necessary. I’m elated to be done with this story. Plain and simple. Some 15,000+ words later and it’s done. It’s not a long tale by any means, but it’s complete. That’s something to write home about. Or in this case – post on your blog.

There’s a part of me that’s sad too, of course. And why wouldn’t I be? When you come to the end of a project, a major weight gets lifted. And you’re happy to be done, but confused on what to do with the feeling now that you’re done. That’s when the sadness draws close. What’ll I do next? What shall I focus my efforts on now? Well, my answers are easy: edit, revise, or start another story. That’s it. Simple? Yes, but daunting all the same.

Well, here it is anyway. The last section of Spirit Run and the longest one too. Sorry in advance for any who read it, but hey, that’s how it happened. I’ve placed the complete story on the blog until I figure out what else I’m going to do with it.


The Angel reached with both hands behind his ears and pulled out two swords. They glistened in the sky as more and more Angels flew down from the clouds above. The new force of Angels descended upon the Demons, driving them into a chaotic spiral. Harda flew close to the Angel, shooting down Shadows and Demons with golden arrows in tandem with the double blades of his new ally.
“Norman, so glad you could join us!” shouted Harda.
“What was that?” said the Angel. “My name is – “
“Not important!” shouted Armin, thrusting his spear through a Shadow. The burn on his wing was not healed but he fought on. “Much obliged for the help, friend. Now let’s keep these foul creatures at bay!”
The added help was working well, but the Daughter was not moving any faster towards the woman. She walked with a slow gait, untouched by the battle but without the sense of urgency she had previously. The woman ahead was still sitting with her back to them, mumbling something to herself through half sobs and sighs. The Daughter looked to be catching fire, her light flashing vividly as she drew nearer. The two were but a few paces from each other; the Daughter shining and the woman crying out. The Trio tried to stay with the Daughter, but they knew this was it: the moment they had been working towards. All that was required now was for the woman to turn around; to uncover herself from darkness. But right as the Daughter began to reach out, hand extended to the young woman, a cold and eerie bellow covered the plane. Demons wailed as if they were in danger and Angels drew their weapons close to them. The battle was in favor of the Angels, but something had turned every being there into a state of perpetual panic.
“No…,” said Balphin. “It’s him.”
A new figure rose up over the young woman, casting a dark and cold veil over her. Its shadow was so large that it blotted out any surrounding light – even that of the largest Earthly Angels. The Trio, in close proximity, flapped their wings but were unable to get any closer to the Daughter. This new being was enormous and though it looked to have a face, it did not speak; it only increased in size over the young woman, swallowing her in its shade.
“Enough!” shouted Armin. “You cannot have this one. She will not listen to you! Not anymore!”
“Listen to me?” mocked the Dark Veil. Its words were minced and twisted, its voice echoed like a well, but hissed like a viper. “Why must she listen to me at all? Is she not capable of making her own choices?”
The words hit the Angels like a sledgehammer. Harda drew back on his bow but he could not release. Balphin picked up his sword but could not strike and Armin readied his spear but could not throw. The Angels were completely powerless.
“Do you see?” said the Dark Veil. “Why not let her choose which way is best? She is more than capable of doing so. Wouldn’t you agree?” The Dark Veil shifted its gaze upon the Daughter, who was still burning with great intensity. The words were having little effect upon her. She took another step forward and the Dark Veil spoke again.
“What good can you do?” it mocked. “What can you do that she cannot do already for herself? Have you not seen her plight? Have you not felt her pain? What have you learned on this journey that can be of any value to her now?”
The Daughter took another step in spite of its mockery.
“Don’t you see how she hurts?”
The Daughter took yet another step.
“Can’t you feel how she needs relief? What is it that you will offer her?”
Another step.
“Why do you think you’ll be any different? Is there anything of value that you possess that she does not already possess for herself?”
Another step.
The Dark Veil towered higher over the Daughter, frustrated with the Daughter’s ignorance towards him. The Trio waited patiently behind her. They could go no further. Then, all time stopped; the words of the Dark Veil ceased and the Daughter froze where she stood, but her flames burned on. The Trio flapped their wings in unison as they waited. Then, the young woman – silent till now – spoke:
“I am done with this,” she said. “I cannot go on like this… Too many … too many times … Something … Something must… I need you… I give myself to you now, Father. Please… help me.”
The Dark Veil screamed. Shadows and Demons withdrew their attack and the Trio’s wings doubled in size. The young woman lifted her head and the spiritual plane shifted. The Dark Veil fell from where it stood and the Daughter replaced him. The young woman and the Daughter were – at last – facing one another. The shame that had separated them was gone. The Daughter extended her hand and broke the space between spirit and flesh, touching the young woman. Fire and light transferred into the eyes of the young woman, filling her with the same light that encompassed the Daughter. The outpour was blinding and the Trio shielded its eyes. When it was over, the Daughter underwent yet another metamorphosis, its form changing into a new body. The transformation frightened the Dark Veil, driving it from the young woman and out of sight. Then, this New Body, pure of light, caressed the young woman’s face, lifting it higher with its own. Her eyes had turned red, swelling up with tears. Small beads of water ran down her face and onto the sidewalk. She cried, sobbed, and even laughed – the love of something otherworldly had penetrated her core, but not of out of intrusiveness, but of invitation. Then the New Body spoke.
“All things…,” it said. “…can be made new. I will show you.” The New Body disappeared and a crackle of thunder brought the world back into its normal passage of time. The physical plane returned and the Angels found themselves floating among it.
“Look!” said Harda and the Trio looked to the sky. A tiny drop of rain fell from the clouds and landed directly next to the teardrops of the young woman. Then another fell. And another. Soon, it was raining upon the young woman, but she didn’t move from where she was. Rather than seek shelter, she closed her eyes and raised her head. The tears that had covered her became lost in the shower of new rain as it fell and caressed her face. Then she smiled and raised her hands slowly into the air.
“’All things new’…,” she said aloud. The words, she thought. She had heard them. She opened her eyes to see a world that was different than she had closed them. The rain fell harder, soaking her completely. She turned her head and saw three figures standing by the sidewalk. It was a man, woman, and child – their hands intertwined, under the safety of a large umbrella as they walked through the rain. When her eyes fell upon them, she saw the little boy break from his mother and father and run towards her. He was carrying something with him, but the young woman couldn’t see what it was.
“Do you need this?” asked the child. He held out his right hand, a small umbrella gripped tightly. The boy had to be no more than 10 or 11, she figured. His big, brown eyes were friendly and inviting. The woman wiped her face and accepted the gift from the child.
“Thank you,” she said, trying not to sob. She looked back at the couple, who was under the veil of their own umbrella, but saying nothing. They watched intently from a distance, waiting for their son to return. “That was very sweet of you.”
“You’re welcome,” said the boy. “We had an extra one and Mom’s was torn earlier by the storm, but Dad’s was big enough for all of us. When I saw you, I figured you could use it. I like the rain but you shouldn’t let yourself get soaked in it. All things are made new by the rain though, aren’t they?”
The young woman nearly broke down again when she heard the words, but the boy’s smile kept her from doing so. She thanked him one more time and the little boy returned to his family – protected once again from the rain. The couple nodded at the young woman, who waved kindly as she flipped open her new umbrella. Then the kindly Trio, who had appeared as if out of nowhere, walked down the sidewalk, took a left turn and disappeared into the night.
“Thank you,” said the young woman. “Thank you.”
Her world restored, the young woman picked up her things and opened her car door. She threw the pills she had with her into a bag and drove away. She had no need for them anymore. She had only the road ahead and a light to shine the way home.


“Small, this one,” said Armin, an Angel of the 11th guard. His transparent body floated in the plane between planes. Below him, a small ball of light twinkled in the darkness. “About as small as the last one, wouldn’t you say?”
“Indeed,” said Harda. His comment was more out of habit than agreement, but he knew that Armin was eager to get moving. “But I wouldn’t say he’s bigger or smaller than the last one just yet.”
“No matter,” said Balphin. “He just doesn’t know how big he is. Once he knows, he’ll get going.”
“Agreed,” said Armin. “But he, you say? Well, that has yet to be seen, now doesn’t it?”
The Angels billowed with bright blues and gold. The tiny orb of light sparkled and pulsed as though it were about to explode. Then it rolled a fraction on its side, a yellow dot of light left behind.
“Well,” said Armin. “Looks like we’re about to find out, aren’t we?”

“Spirit Run” – part 10

Still going strong on this story. I’ve made some revisions as necessary, but nothing too crazy. I’ve had my mind on some other projects, but have thankfully been staying on task. That’s the good part. The bad part? Well, I’ve had my mind on other projects. And I’d like to start them sooner than later. That’s the bad part. Until that time comes, more of this story to cometh.


Two of the Angels ignored Armin. The other, closest to Armin, tilted his head in Armin’s direction. He was darkly-skinned and had long black hair. His eyes, a light blue, were striking to Armin. The Angel didn’t smile; he flapped his wings and nodded.
“Not much for conversation now, are we?” asked Armin. “Come on now, we’ve made it this far. Surely, you must have a sense of humor?”
“Seeing what I have seen,” said the Angel. His voice was deeper than what Armin expected. “It is difficult sometimes, but we maintain.”
“I see…,” said Armin.
“But as I’m sure you’ve discovered, it’s not easy caring for a Daughter.”
“Our Trio has never had the experience,” said Armin. “What’s it like?”
The other Angel’s eyes went wide. He had a look of terror and fright, which made Armin wish he could retract his statement. But then the other Angel smiled.
“When you get to the end, come and see me,” said the Angel. “The hope and the reward are more than justifiable. You will see.”
“I thank you,” said Armin. “That was better news than I expected to hear.”
The other Angel floated high and away from Armin. Balphin and Harda, still at the ready, looked on at Armin with inquiring faces.
“What did he say?” asked Harda.
“He told me eager to see the end of this journey and he’s tired of working with the other two he’s paired with.”
“Is that so?” asked Balphin.
“Ha!” shouted Harda. “Are you sure that wasn’t your own story you just retold?”
Armin smiled. “Lads, you know me too well.”
The Trio shared a laugh as they watched over their Daughter with great intent. The road was blossoming all around the path she was making. Eventually her path crossed with another’s and the area bloomed greater. And then another. And another. More and more were attracted to the garden she had created. Armin, Balphin, and Harda were elated. The journey was not as treacherous as they had presumed.
But then, the howls returned. Armin heard it before any of the others. A loud boom, followed by a vicious hiss swept over the landscape. Daughter stopped where she was and waited. The others did the same. The howls got louder and louder. It was all like it was before. The Trio readied themselves for battle.
“Again, eh?!” said Armin.
“Again, indeed,” said Balphin.
“It’s as I said – bring them to me!” shouted Harda.
Then, the Trio’s Daughter took off running. The Angels clapped their wings and took flight with her. She ran with arms pumping and legs flying high. Orange and gold light poured off of her as she ran. Then the Darkness came. One by one, Shadows flew into the path of the Daughter and the Trio. They were not without form this time. They had faces – twisted, wretched faces. Like skin that was melting away, their gray complexions screamed at the Daughter as she ran.
“Not again!” cried Balphin as he unsheathed his sword. Light exploded as Balphin’s blade struck the enemy. A violent clang shook Balphin, exposing that the Darkness was not without its own set of weapons. Out of its black robe emerged a silver blade, stained with the tears and blood of those whom it had already pierced. Balphin could see the faces of a hundred, maybe more, lined against the blade’s edge. Their pain could felt against Balphin’s ray of light, nearly disarming him. But the mighty Angel pushed back and took another strong swing – slicing the hand of the Shadow.
“Rahh!” screamed the agent of darkness as he dropped his blade.
“Weren’t expecting that, were you?!” shouted Balphin. He wasted no time as he swung again, crushing the Shadow where it stood with his sword.
“Excellent, Balphin!” shouted Harda. “But leave some for the rest of us!”
Harda grabbed another arrow from his quiver and readied his bow. He was ready to make his bow sing. Two more dark specters appeared and Harda shot them down in an instant. Meanwhile, Armin watched the back as their Daughter continued running.
“Nice work, lads!” shouted Armin. “I think you’ve got a few of them scared back here.”
Armin was flying quickly but he could see several Shadows gaining ground. They slithered across the ground, avoiding the Daughter’s trail, but keeping their sunken eyes on the Daughter ahead.
“You’ll never get it, will you?” said Armin with sadness in his voice. He raised his spear as he flew backwards. “You are serving a losing battle, Demons. Regardless, I will show no mercy if you do not cease and desist.”
A singular Shadow snaked out ahead of the pack. It screamed and moaned at Armin, taunting him to throw his spear. Then Armin saw something he did not expect – the blue eyes of the Angel he had previously encountered. Armin was alarmed; he could not throw his spear. But the advancing Shadow would not stop. Its eyes burned from blue to blood red as it closed in on Armin.
“Very well,” said Armin. “No mercy, it shall be.”
Armin threw his spear, skewering the Shadow at the base of its neck. The Demon let out a yell and fell to the ground. The other Shadows did not stop. They rolled over top of the fallen Shadow and continued their pursuit.
“Did we not learn anything from that?” asked Armin. “Did you think that was all I had with me?”
Armin reached behind his back and pulled another spear from his back, light pouring from within.
“So long as I am here, you cannot advance,” said Armin and he hurled another spear in the direction of the Shadows. He hit many, dropping them where they were hit.
“How are we doing?” shouted Armin.
“Most excellent from my vantage point!” shouted Harda. His bow was more than singing – it was chanting a chorus of arrows as each fell upon opponent after opponent.
“Indeed!” exclaimed Balphin. “It’ll take more than this to keep her back!”

“Spirit Run” – part 7

They say that seven is a magic number. A lucky number – orr at least a very significant number throughout history.

1. Mickey Mantle was number seven. He was a pretty darned good ballplayer.
2. 7Up is a well-known drink. As are Seven-Elevens. Only they aren’t drinks.
3. James Bond is 007. Nuff said there.
4. Major books series tend to go for seven volumes; even if they end up being 8 movies. Harry Potter, anyone?
5. It’s feared by all other numbers – you know, why was 10 afraid of 7? Because 7, 8, 9. Read it aloud if it’s having difficulty getting it.
6. There are seven days in a week.
7. And fianlly, God created the heavens, Earth, and all other creatures in six days. Then he rested on the seventh. That’s about as big as it gets when it comes to number significance – not counting any mathematical jargon that I’m just not feeling up to typing.

So seven has some real significance. That’s the good news. As for my part 7 in Spirit Run, it’s neither lucky nor overly significant. That’s still good news but not great either. It’s really just part 7. That’s it. So I hope you enjoyed this little lesson on the number seven. You’re very welcome.

On a more serious note, this next section is continuing on from where the Shadows are attacking. I’ll upload this portion into the main Spirit Run hub on the home page so it flows with the previous posts.

Thanks to all who have given feedback already. It is much appreciated. This work has been butchered and broken up as I go onward so the more the merrier.


Armin’s body poured out light on both sides. A massive spear formed in his left hand, a shield on his right – ready for battle. He flapped his right wing, deflecting the Shadow momentarily as he prepped himself for the attack. The Shadow appeared to be phased by the ricochet but it returned quickly – this time moving faster than before. Armin raised his shield – a golden crucifix, glowing in radiant light – blocked the Shadow’s advanced play. But it did not stop there; the Shadow wrapped itself over top of the shield, attempting to consume Armin from the top down. Armin ducked and plunged his spear forward, gouging the Shadow at its centermost point. The Shadow cried and retreated quickly, its tentacle arms losing ground in the distance.
“Not yet is what I said! And it’s not yet, is it?!”
Harda, also exposed in the darkness, burned with light as a bow took shape over his shoulder. A quiver, full of golden arrows, shimmered on his backside. He reached for one, just beyond his white wings, and drew back to fire. When he released, the arrow – made of light – struck the black mist faster than the eye could follow, slicing the Shadow in half. The trajectory of his shot shimmered from the tips of his fingers to the point of contact. Another foul scream burst forth and the Shadow retreated again.
“Ha!” shouted Armin. “I was wondering when they’d finally make a run at us!” The Angel plunged his spear against the darkness over and over again, each time pushing the Shadow back even further. Harda flew overhead with ease, blazing the enemy with his well-timed arrows while Armin rammed his shield against anything in his vicinity.
“When we said, ‘let them come’, they must have been listening!” shouted Harda. His golden arrows left trails of light all about the Trio like, a storm of gold and white filling the sphere inside the barrier. His bowstring sung with every pull and release and the Shadow appeared to be losing ground.
Balphin looked up at his brethren. Darkness was sweeping around on every side. The barriers that had once covered the runners were crumbling everywhere, the orbs and Newborns consumed by black mist. Balphin could sense their own barrier reaching its limit. He slashed his sword one more time, cutting the hands of darkness that tried to reach the Newborn.
“As my brother just decreed,” said Balphin, pulling back on the hilt. “Not yet!” The mighty Balphin hammered the darkness as it swirled around the Newborn; his angelic brethren holding off their enemies above. The battles grew in ferocity – Armin’s head shined and a helmet appeared upon him. Harda’s arm became encased with light, a protective cover shaping on his forearm. And Balphin’s body glowed till a breastplate fully formed upon his torso. The Shadow dug deeper, disregarding the Trio’s defenses.
The Newborn, meanwhile, continued its brisk walk without any regard for what was transpiring. He moved slowly with arms swaying at his side. The noise of swords swinging, arrows flying, and spears piercing did nothing to affect his movement. Chaos was everywhere yet he soldiered onward; oblivious to the war going on around him. A shower of arrows covered the ground in front of the Newborn and a sword, as big as the Newborn itself, slammed the ground next to him. Still, the Newborn was inattentive as the battle ensued.
“Balphin!” shouted Harda. “Watch your back. More coming for you.” Balphin reacted swiftly. He swooped around the Newborn and cut the lurking hands of the Shadow.
“Thanks, old friend,” shouted Balphin. “Still as quick on my toes ever, aren’t I?”
“Good, they are,” said Armin. “But the worst is yet to come.”
“Agreed,” said Balphin.
Armin must have been heard by the darkness; for it rescinded its assault and disappeared.
“Interesting…,” said Harda, hand ready at the bow. His wings flapped gently, the sound like a single raindrop on the surface of water. There was utter silence everywhere, but the Trio stayed on guard.
“It’s still here…,” said Armin. “It’s here but we can’t see it.”
“Where? Where is it?”
The Trio had not changed; their bodies glowed and their physical forms remained. Balphin and the others searched the entirety of the space, but could find nothing.
“Show yourself!” cried Balphin. His broadsword glistened in the aura of the Newborn, but the Shadow did not appear. All was still until the Newborn stopped moving forward. “What’s this?”
The Newborn had halted; arms at its side and legs together. Its head turned left, then right, and then up. Nothing moved, not even the Trio as they watched. Armin and Harda hovered, their wings stretching across the space above. Armin tightened his grip on his spear and Harda pulled the bowstring tighter. But there was nothing. No sound or stir in the abyss. Then the plane beneath the Newborn started to shake violently. The barrier shook and a small light formed under the Newborn’s feet.
“Balphin!” shouted Harda. Armin and Harda descended with haste but it was too late. The barrier cracked on all sides. A deafening scream overtook the Trio and a whirlwind of dark energy flooded the once concealed fortress. A gray cloud formed all about the Newborn, circling and rising like a tornado. Balphin was swept towards the Newborn uncontrollably, sucked in by the force.
“Get out of there!” shouted Armin. Balphin struggled to gain ground, his platinum hair flailed wildly towards the black hole that had formed. Then he sheathed his sword and leapt from the Newborn.
“What did we do?” asked Harda. “Did we miss anything? Didn’t we guard it well enough?”
“No,” said Armin. “We did all that we could. Remember, this was not our burden. This must have come from within.”
The cloud exploded, blinding the Angels and knocking them backwards. Light bounced in all directions, searching for a place to land. The Trio was separated as a cloud settled upon the area where the Newborn had been. A filthy haze formed all through the plane. The Newborn, once burning bright, was nowhere to be seen.
“No…,” said Balphin. “They were… they were too much….”
“Indeed,” said Armin. “The temptations were too heavy. What now?” The Trio relinquished their weapons and returned to their posts. High above the debris, they flapped their wings in earnest defeat, but to keep themselves aloft. Gravity, which had all but not existed till now, took hold of the Trio.
I honestly…maybe this time…, thought Harda. The words escaped from his mind like a soft breeze and gently grazed the ear of Armin.
“What was that?” asked Armin, unable to hear Harda clearly.
“I was just thinking,” said Harda, his head hung low. “Could you not hear me clearly?”
“Just faintly,” said Armin. “It’s happening, isn’t it?”
“We’re between planes now,” explained Balphin. “We’ll have to use our voices more frequently from here on out. Light won’t communicate as effectively as it once did.”
“You are right,” said Harda, head perking up. “That also means that we are further along than we thought.”

“Spirit Run” – part 6

Once again, no need for intros. Just more of the story as promised.

“Harda!” shouted Balphin, a beam of light shooting straight for Harda. “Don’t stay out there too long. Tell us what you see.”
Harda focused back on the Shadow. It was far from the Trio, but advancing quickly. Its behavior was unpredictable. It ignored certain groupings of Angels while violently attacking others. Furthermore, the Shadow would sometimes split on contact, birthing a second shadow rather than die where it landed. These clashes between Shadow and Angel would emit a deafening cry, one so strong that it shook the space where the Trio resided.
“So many…there are so many this time…,” said Harda, repeating himself. He had not seen it like this before. In the past, only a few Shadows would conjure themselves. But this onslaught was vast and expansive. One Shadow, not far from Harda, tried to devour a wall of Angels but was thrown back with great force. Like the other Shadows, it split into several pieces, crying aloud as it searched for more potential prey. Then it turned its attentions on Harda.
“Time to go!” shouted Harda. He whipped back around and dove into the sphere.
“How many?” asked Balphin.
“Too many,” answered Harda. “I’ve never seen it so dense.”
“Too many?” said Armin. The sound of a challenge flared something up inside him. “I’m not familiar with ‘too many’. Don’t lose heart, lads. This is where the fun begins, remember?!” The Angel Armin bristled a dark blue, his wings rising high into the atmosphere. His eagerness was not shared by his compatriots.
“I wish I shared in your sentiment, Armin,” said Balphin. “Nevertheless, let us prepare.”
“Very well. Let them come!” shouted Harda, his heart rekindled by Armin’s fury. “We will do whatever is necessary.”
The Angels shined brightly, their wings extending upwards. Down below, the Newborn was beginning to walk at a brisk pace. Its arms lifted as it strode confidently to some unseen destination – one that would hopefully carry them away from the Shadows that lurked.
A cry shook the sphere once more. Another figure of light appeared, running faster than the Newborn. And another. And another.
“Look there,” said Harda. “Perhaps we can hitch a ride?”
There were many walking alongside. Their prints seemed to deter the Shadow and its followers. Collectively, they were stronger this way. The Newborn reached out its hand and touched others around it. When their hands met, they grew in tandem. The glow reached upward, overlapping the lower portions of the Angels.
“Wow…our feet,” said Harda. The Angel watched as his bottom half hanged from transparent to opaque. “They’re coming alive again.”
“Of all the things to get excited over…,” said Balphin.
“Well, aren’t you?”
Balphin looked at his feet. He wriggled his toes, blue light shining from his upper half in enjoyment.
“Very well. It is exciting.”
Suddenly, another being veered off course and nearly smashed into the Newborn.
“Whoa now!” shouted Balphin. The Angel stopped entertaining his toes and looked to the Newborn. “What gives here?”
“Collateral damage, perhaps?” said Armin. It was not unusual to witness other Newborns run faster than others; to rush forward ahead of the rest. The waves they generated were very powerful, knocking fellow travelers off track in many instances. This was never done via some malicious resolve; these Newborns were fierce in their pursuits and that meant unavoidable casualties along the way.
“Not certain,” said Balphin. “But we certainly can’t stand for that.”
“Best check on that.”
“Understood. I will tend to it.”
“Careful,” said Harda. “Your toes are exposed now.”
“Your observations are always refreshing, Harda.”
Balphin descended upon the Newborn, embarrassed by Harda’s comment but ready to investigate. His whole body became visible again – face, hair, shoulders, everything. The Newborn did not recognize Balphin; it tilted its head towards the newcomer instead. The other being was running in place, a few paces outside of the barrier. The Newborn reached out towards the newcomer, who began to do the same. Balphin’s large body, unable to come between them, pressed as closely as possible to the point of contact. His silver eyes, three times the size of the Newborn’s, diligently observed every action.
“Something’s not right…,” said Balphin. He peered above the traveler and saw no such Angelic trio. There were shades of something set apart from this newcomer but nothing definitive. The Newborn continued to extend its hand to the outermost wall, eager to connect in some way. Balphin stayed vigilant. He called out to the newcomer with words that sounded like a harp playing. It was the only means he had for speaking with other beings of light. The newcomer did not respond, and Balphin’s eyes became serious. Then, the once beautiful shape of the newcomer became gray and hollow while a sharp scream began emanating from its core. The tips of its fingers spilled out like weeds and vines, ready to grasp the Newborn’s hand.
“Deceiver!” cried Armin and the Angels bellowed in unison.
The brightly shining newcomer was a Shadow in disguise. Balphin pulled away for only a moment as his right side exploded with new light. A sword emerged in his hands, as big and wide as his whole body. He swooped over top of the Newborn, and swung downward with tremendous force, cutting the ghastly fingers of the Shadow before they could reach the Newborn’s outstretched hand. The Shadow howled violently, the remainder of its arm retreating within itself. Armin and Harda took their own battle stances. Light beamed in every direction as they attempted to further fortify the barrier around the Newborn.
“Behind us!” shouted Armin. Harda turned to see that the barrier, strong as it had been, was breaking. The Newborn had run hard, but the Shadows had caught them. Dark clouds, like a river of black bubbles, covered the light fortress. Black veins tore at the wall, seeping inside of the Trio’s barrier. Armin’s body transformed – his large, translucent form took shape in the presence of the enemy; skin, hair, and eyes appeared just as they did when he was next to the Newborn’s light. To Harda, the onslaught of darkness had the same effect.
“The barrier, Armin!” cried Harda. “The barrier will break completely. Very soon, I’d say!”
“Not yet it won’t!”

More thoughts on “Spirit Run” – part 2

Section two of Spirit Run introduces more conversation among the Trio, aka the Angels. It also gives a little history on each of their characters – why they’re together, how they got together, and what they’re doing as a group. I feel it’s safe to say that they are working to protect the tiny ball of light that’s with them, but it’s also refreshing to delve a bit into what makes each of them unique.

Armin, for example, is the most forward-thinking of the three. He is concerned with movement and pushing the crew onward. Balphin calls on experience to better navigate their path – advising as things arise – while Harda is somewhere in between. There’s a small inkling of Armin’s sarcastic side within this section too. Something I’ve enjoyed doing with this story. This is supposed to be fun, I do recall. Not some grueling experience I’m chained down to.

The part where the ball of light “grows” is a concept I thought might be fun also. Hearing the angel’s talk among themselves could affect his growth if he’s touched by it. Who is to say that couldn’t make a spirit grow bigger and stronger, eh? Too much though and it attracts the wrong kind of attention, hence the other ball that comes in later.

On with part 3 later this week and the “Rogue” spirit.


Some thoughts on “Spirit Run” – 1

I started this story shortly after taking a week-long break from writing. The time spent away from the daily grind was a relief, but it also made me all the more eager to return to my laptop. I’ve had a ton of “big” ideas lately, ones I’d really like to complete but the enormity of those projects can make me feel like I’ll never finish them. Or that I’m running in place. That feeling, “running in place”, can be a good metaphor to help explain how we see ourselves at times – stuck, stagnate, and isolated in our work. Since I’d been struggling with that, I started to dig into why I was feeling that way. And that’s where the idea came to mind – what might that look like in a spiritual sense? I got the notion of a spirit doing something similar – running in place, but rather than be stuck where it was, it was running towards something at the same time.

But where was it going? And for what purpose? Gears turned, light bulbs went off, and I began to write. Funny how asking questions can lead to more questions, but if you are asking specific ones, you tend to get some specific answers too. I wanted a clear vision of what to do, but the most important step was just beginning. Once that happened, things really started to take shape.

For example, were there dangers? I thought of what might be required to have a safe passage for my character. What about being covered in the light of a few guardian angels? Ok, that works. And have the story told from their perspective? Sure, that sounds exciting too. I mean, what kind of conversations might angels be having when they look down at a human spirit? I’ve often wondered what that might look like. So why not write about it? And away we go.

The manner in which I first present the angels was also very important. Our general knowledge depicts angels with robes, relatively long hair, and most importantly – wings of some kind. I don’t disagree with this type of visage – there are other types, mind you – but do they always start out in this fashion? These are beings made in light, after all. So why not have them communicate through the use of said light? I wanted to establish this early on; that angels aren’t just the wispy, toga-wearing creations we usually view them as. They are diverse creations, complete with their own personalities and characteristics. The three in this story are no exception.

Going forward, I’ll continue to expound on this concept of “transparent becoming apparent”; specifically when angels are engulfed in the light of a spirit. I like that idea and it makes for a fun visual within the context of the story.

Part 2 to follow later this evening.

Till later,