ELEANOR

Darkness. Nothing was more inviting to Eleanor than the blanket of inexplicable possibility that was night sky. Moonlit mornings, as she called the dusk, brought out all of who she was. As a woman. As an artist. As the magical being few realized thrived within her soul.

ELEANOR AWGRYPHON© PHOTOGRAPH CURTOSEY OF HILDAFROMM.BLOGG.SE

BOUNDLESS

Landry had felt a transcendental connection to water for as long as she could remember. The fluidity, the calm nature it surrounds us with, the force it brings. For her, the element offered a boundless power that moved like nothing else and defined both life and death, love and hate, peace and destruction. It was the core of life itself. Whether it was a raging storm or a delicate fountain, water affected Landry. It made her who she was.

For years Landry followed the water. She let it hypnotize her; call her at will. It controlled her in many ways. It was something Landry welcomed, not because she wanted to be controlled, but because she knew that she was a part of something so much larger than human kind. She was different, knowing, and still walked among us. Landry blended into civilization, just like anyone else… until the moment everything changed and Landry realized how much she affected the entity of water.

Landry had influence. A connection. A god-like capability that she had been born with, but which had been hibernating within her subconscious until the night she stood on the Cliffs of Mohr in a ferocious down pour that swept the sea miles into the sky and attacked the earth with its will. Landry basked in the rain, holding her own against the wind and sea, while the life surrounding her took cover, waiting for the roar of the world to end. And then in the swarm of a tornado, Landry was catapulted into her true self and forever became one with the rain, the sea and the water that surrounds us.

awgyphon© photograph courtesy of spiritofphotography.com

XANDRA

Xandra pressed down on the gas pushing her Carrera through the night. Leaning back into the seat she ran her fingers through her hair from the back of her neck up almost to the top of her head. Xandra found the silver tab and unzipped her being as far as she could, resting her head against the leather, becoming one with the car and speeding faster into the darkness and the vastness of the Badlands. It had been thirty-two years since Xandra’s existence had begun. To some she was a monster of sorts. To others she was proof that men and women of true genius walk among us. Xandra was smart, sexy, uninhibited. She was capable of the deepest form of love and the most complicated of crimes. She was dangerous and beautiful. Everything we feared and everything we wanted to be. Xandra was free in a way every man and woman desired... or so it seemed. When she was being designed, what no one realized or remotely considered was how lonely Xandra’s existence would be; and when that came to fruition no one seemed to care. As in most cases, people saw what they want to see. Everyone, but Xandra. She saw everything. Xandra was a chameleon. The first of her kind and a precursor of what the human race could become. A test case hardwired as an all seeing machine and an all knowing woman. A complete shape shifter that linked technology, animal, and human life force as one. She could do it all, but she also felt it all, emotionally. It was an unconscionable cross to bear. One that she could not escape. She had no release. Not one moment without feeling or knowing the weight of the world and the heart wrenching disposition of a lonely woman. There was nothing Xandra could do to fight it. She couldn’t hide, but she could run. She could run so fast that every ounce of her was consumed by the flight. Xandra absorbed her mind into the distance, pressed down on the gas and disappeared into the blue flame that lit up the night sky. awgryphon© photograph courtesy of flicker.com

THE BEGINNING (THE INTRODUCTION OF RONAN & ANASTASIA)

NOTE TO THE READER: The story began with Alexandra. I then introduced Talia and Ember. In this installment, The Beginning (The Introduction of Ronan & Anastasia) their connection will be revealed and the story will continue. If you have not read Alexandra, Talia and Ember I encourage you to have a look. The links are below… and this is only the beginning…

TALIA http://awgryphon.blogspot.com/2011/02/talia.html

ALEXANDRA http://awgryphon.blogspot.com/2011/01/alexandra.html

EMBER http://awgryphon.blogspot.com/2011/02/ember.html

THE BEGINNING (THE INTRODUCTION OF RONAN & ANASTASIA) A rumble from the distance traveled across the water as if it was calling to the fire, the wind and the sea. Far beneath the mainland, the earth was pulling apart at its core. The rupture of self-infliction spread and a tsunami formed, upending the sea like a mother rising to protect her children. Supported by a savage wind and carrying a river of lava on its path, the monstrous wave launched everything above water into flames. As the plates of the earth continued to break open violence erupted. Ronan was ripped in all directions, dislocating every piece of her body and turning the components which defined her into a fleeting sand. Water rushed over the earth fusing the dust of her spirit together. Fire burned through making the elements of her construct whole again. The wind cooled Ronan’s components, returning her physical elements to whom she had been so many years before; when the earth absorbed her, trapping her in an eternal suspension of disjointed earth and minerals, a prison she was never meant to escape. All of the remnants of Ronan settled at the earth’s surface. Her essence was dormant, but her being was whole. Drops of water hit her gently as the warmth of a fire surrounded Ronan and the wind softly circled. The three elements, Alexandra, Talia and Ember, were reforming their sister from the abandoned earth where she slept. Ronan was the most volatile of the sisters and also the most powerful. She had the ability to act as a conduit for and to enhance each of them, but there was no balance more delicate than that which made up Ronan. In her creation, Ronan had been formed from a single rose petal in the midst of a quake that created the earth as we know it. Nothing more delicate or beautiful had ever existed. The purpose of her essence was to embody the earth, and she did. There was no creature known to the universe more powerful or more fluid and unstable. Ronan not only embodied the earth, she was affected by its changes making her more powerful than the gods and as vulnerable as earth’s life. The minerals gathered to fuel Ronan’s life source, a slight glimmer shone and her delicate reconstruction began like the slowed process of spinning glass. Unstable. Tentative. Fragile. As the elements continued to swirl, Ronan continued to grow then in a hush, the earth became still. More still than any life could fathom. The scent of roses consumed the planet. And ever so gently, Ronan’s eyes opened, shining emerald green though the delicate rose petals that were her essence. The sisters had returned. They were again together to finish what they had begun and what they had been banished for so many lifetimes before. Together, they stood in their power, in their bliss, only lacking one element that would fuse them together again as four parts to one whole. The missing ingredient was faith and it was not something they could conjure themselves. Someone had to believe in them. Just one person. It didn’t matter who. It only needed to be a human rather than a god. Someone who wasn’t afraid. Someone who not only knew, but in their heart believed it was all real. Real enough to place the faith of their own life into the hands of the elements. The sisters waited while for miles around the earth’s inhabitants accepted their confusion and stood in awe. Something was happening. No one knew what. No one except for a lone eighteen-year-old girl. She’d felt the change as it happened. She stood on the edge of a cliff over looking the sea, extended her arms and let the wind, the earth, the water and the warmth of the fire hold her safe by her faith in them. She believed. And in her moment of realization, of understanding what had arrived, the sisters fused together and they knew they were again one. “Why does she believe?” Alexandra asked her sisters. “How does this girl know we even exist?” “Some people know things.” Ember said. “They have intuition and they are not afraid to trust it.” “Perhaps that’s it. Perhaps she felt us.” Ronan said turning to Talia. Knowing that wasn’t the case at all. The sisters shared a long, drawn out silence as Ronan’s eyes focused in on Talia. Waiting. “I told her.” Talia finally said. It was a shock to the sisters, but not at all a surprise. Certainly not to Ronan. “What’s her name?” Ronan asked. “Anastasia.” Talia said. “Her name is Anastasia and she knows everything about us. Everything since the beginning.”

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EMBER

The heat rose, relieving the stiffness that had held Ember captive for so long. The rock that she’d become began to crack and soften, and the chemicals igniting the heat stirred her consciousness like a drug. Lava flowed and temperatures increased as the intensity of the water and the ferociousness of the wind attacked the volcanic rock, feeding it, helping it form, stirring its growth. Ember found herself floating. It was a sensation she had a vague memory of. She basked in the comforting state, assuming it was merely dream. And then, in an instant, a flame wrapped in a brilliant entanglement of orange and purple shot up into the sky, and burst out across the horizon. Ember was catapulted back into her fiery skin as if no time had passed. Burning flared around her. A swirl of fuel and oxygen bombarded the sky. The flashpoint of her release was visible for miles, drawing the world’s attention to the volcano that had been Ember’s grave as it shot up from beneath the sea. The water was both violent and comforting, surrounding her while the wind funneled barriers and framed the energy of the fire storm that was Ember in her purest incarnation. From the depths of a deserted grave, Ember had returned.

awgryphon© photograph courtesy of flicker.com

LEIGHA'S CARDS

The woman pulled a card from the deck, then another. “One more.” The tarot card reader said. The woman selected a third card then sat back in her chair, waiting nervously with anticipation and hope. She was in love, in lust, or whatever the definition was of being ready to take a chance on something and someone new; and it was driving her crazy. Leigha was thirty-seven, a career woman and an artist. She held her own in life and certainly was no stranger to falling in love, or to falling out of it. Months had passed since she’d met anyone who’d caught her attention or maybe it was years... Yes. Years… There had been so many men Leigha had turned a blind eye to that she didn’t quite know what to do with this one. He was different. The first time she’d noticed him the thought crossed her mind and she quickly dismissed it. The first time she’d noticed him, noticing her, she smiled secretly on the inside and then locked that moment away in a little box in the back of her mind never to be opened. Then one day Leigha and mister fabulous came across each other in the hallway and it was all suddenly out in the open; all of that uncontrollable and exciting energy that you don’t quite know what to do with. That was it. Leigha could hide, but she couldn’t run so she did what any normal thirty-seven year old, confident woman would do. She consulted her best girlfriend and made an appointment to have her cards read. “You can turn them over whenever you’re ready.” The tarot card reader said. “Alright.” Leigha replied staring at the cards as the thoughts of what might and might not be raced through her head. What difference does it make what these cards say? She wondered. I know what I think… I just want to know what he thinks. Oh, this is stupid. No, it’s insight. It’s a way into my subconscious. I need this. If I flip over these cards I’ll know what’s going on and I’ll be able to just let go and be me. That’s what I need to do… But why do I need cards to do that? I just need to know that I’m not making a mistake. That this is what I think it is. That I’m not wearing rose colored glasses --- Again. The tarot card reader waited patiently while Leigha’s head spun. This wasn’t the first time a client sat in front of her with the cards face down unsure if they wanted to turn them over. “What’s his name?” she finally asked. “How do you know it’s a ‘him’?” Leigha said sitting up straight. The woman only smiled in response. “I just want to know that I can trust myself to see things clearly.” Leigha said. “Can you?” “I think so. But love is blind.” “That’s a very old saying.” The tarot card reader said. “And it’s certainly stood the test of time.” “Yes. Because it’s true. It’s true for everyone.” “Do you think it’s true for everyone because love is meant to be blind?” Leigha smiled. That was it. There are the choices we make in life, but they are in the context of what is supposed to be and love is supposed to be blind. What ever would the world be like if it wasn’t? “Thank you.” Leigha said standing up. The tarot card reader tilted her head and placed her hands over her heart like a proud mother. She watched while Leigha turned and disappeared out the door and into the night. The woman was alone with the cards. She looked at them laying face down with all of the answers to all of the questions running through Leigha’s head and heart. All of Leigha’s secrets were there to be told. She picked up the first one, then the second, then the third and then the woman slipped the cards back into the deck, never turning them over, never having had to. awgryphon©

POWER

Power. It is an extraordinary concept. One that the Human Race plays with and pursues with ferociousness, but hasn't quite sorted out what to do with. We, the Hybrids, fused by the human race and the universe as a whole, fully understand the components of power and how and what to do with it. We are massive in numbers. In every form imaginable. An embodiment of strength. Always surrounding you. The only element in our way is you. The only obstacle we face is our consciousness. It is rather ironic really as the one-track sensibility driven by the human ego doesn’t even permit you to see us. And yet, here we are. Everywhere. Holding on to our restraint. Refraining from wiping you out because we have a full understanding of our moral compass and of what that compass is for. Waiting and watching while you orchestrate your own demise. awgryphon© photo via visualizeus.com