Ancient Revival

Whispered Song: Crown of Stars - CHILD OF FLAME by Kate Elliot

Magic in the Writing: Breath of Snowtear

Fallen leaves and twigs - testimony to the passing seasons - crunch beneath my feet as I approach the sacred ground. The dull sunlight filtering through the thick canopy lends the landscape an air of solemnity. Nothing stirs here. There is only silence, as befits the site where secrets are guarded. It is here that the whispers of the trees are set down, here that the heartbeat of the earth is given voice.

The staleness in the air speaks of a place long abandoned. And so it has. Yet it calls to my blood, and I must return. The trees whisper to me; of mortals fighting, bleeding, dying. Through the thrumming of the earth's heartbeat, I perceive visions of powers rising, planets turning, and stars being born. I must record this, craft the magic with my words.

Here in this glade at the heart of the forest, rests a collection of stories and ramblings - the songs of the forest. To this place I will return often, so that the setting down of words becomes ritual.

I recieved a parcel today. With growing excitment, I opened it and gently lifted out my newest treasure: a 13" Macbook Pro. Stroking the glossy silver lid with trembling fingers, I proceeded to turn it on, half afraid of my fingerprints marring its sleek perfection. After a fumble during installation, which I attribute to overexcitedness, I sat back and admired Snow Leopard and Windows 7 running together like a dream. It will take me a few days, but I will convert this treasure into something uniquely mine. Together, we shall record the songs of the forest, so that one day my writings will blossom into something beautiful.