Whispers in Stone

Thirteen years ago…

Sarn chased sparkles dancing in tides washing
the shore. He lifted rocks seeking their shine.
Rocks rubbed his soles, sun warmed him, water sloshed
his breeches, his numb fingers caught that shine.
A spark blossomed in the smoky stone heart.
it winks, changes to blazing lips that speak.
Sarn shrugged, pressed the rock to his ear in part,
copying the kids with shells. The rock speaks
words that tumble like pebbles down a hill.
Its cadence soothed him; he discerned one word
out of the tumult which bounced ’round until
it fired his magic and out burst that word:
“Lumir,” he said, naming, giving a shape
to potential, allowing light to escape.

~ ~ ~

They loved stone and stone they became. Crusted
o’er skin, seeping into muscle and bone
making them stiff, trapped in stone, disgusted
with their lot, yet still conscious. Her gift honed
by centuries’ imprisonment, her gaze
fixed on a seeing stone, seeking release
from loneliness, the curse’s slow death; its haze
cleared, framed a boy with green eyes; magic teased,
it sparked and danced in his magic-filled  eyes.
He could break the curse. Tears changed stone to flesh
where they tracked. He heard the Earth Song, the cries,
the groans of the stone that entombed her flesh.
The language of stone magic, of kin and curses–
he heard and understood those old verses.

~ ~ ~

Sarn carried his baby brother, who tucked
his head under his brother’s chin and wrapped
his arms around Sarn’s neck; his thumb, he sucked.
Sarn withdrew his treasure; it glowed once unwrapped
like a shard of sunlight in his pale hand.
“Look what I found. It makes light, not more dark.”
Miren reached for it. “It’s cool, not hot and
it’s water-smooth. See?” He watched as the spark,
fanned by his own magic, expunged shadows.
Sarn smiled, for he hated the dark and wished
it banished from his sight forever more.
“It talks too.” He shifted the rock and wished
he understood all that it said. Its light
sheltered them as he listened in delight.

~ ~ ~

Redacted from an excerpt of a draft of Sarn’s origin story, “Whisper in Stone,” which I may publish as a separate novella or include as flashbacks later in the series when we lead up to the breaking of the curse on the Chiasta (the narrator in the second stanza/sonnet).

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Read more about Sarn in the Curse Breaker Saga. You can also find more vignette-style poems about him and other characters from the Curse Breaker Saga on my Tales of Shayari page.

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For the Daily Post’s prompt: Literate for a Day and Daily Post photo challenge: Trio