Lord Zee
MarshalSolgriev
urukhai
Alby47
Crispy Octopus
Flux sensed a golden wind flow between the bars of his angular head, and raised his gaze. The soughing winds of Change blew upon him, and he felt a shift in the air.
Somewhere distant, I am remembered, he thought. Somewhere distant, I return.
Flux swished his sheets of fluid and glided on over the terrace of his garden, appearing like a man in a robe hurrying to retrieve something forgotten. The leaves of many years whispered beside him, in yellow and pink and blue, and the ataractic mists trailed into cirrus-shapes above.
As he went he touched so gently the every fallen twig, sampled the birdpecked berry and lifted the fallen rock; such was his nature that meticulosity had been folded into the paint of his very being, and become effortless, as easy as a constant breath and almost as absent. Yet nothing was changed, though he passed it by, no rock left turned, no bird disturbed. Even the angels that whispered sweet nothings as they smoothed each other's hair in the boughs did not notice as he passed, for Flux was as a shadow within water, a flick of shade that only hints at the calm giant that hides within.
He reached the pool of a waterfall and, sprinkling seed from the bird-feeder to the koi as he passed, flicked his shape up the spattered rocks and 'round the bubbling cliffs to the stream. There, where a small watermill was turning his mixer, a small house like a windmill-lighthouse stood at the edge of the Valley.
Flux flapped his wings and was up in a fizzle of amber-glowing quicksilver. He landed effortlessly in his most private room and reached for his books.
A quintet of codices all opened as one, and each sash of the Sculptor either held or examined the self-pressed pages. All of a sudden, he snapped them all closed with a fantastic sound.
Flux reached out to his chained-up Halo as it glowed with an indigo light on the end of its copper fixture. He unlinked the copper chain and set it gently where it belonged, floating still as a disc behind his pyramid face.
There. That would do him for now.
He swept his way cleanly out of the rooms of paints and pigments and down the valley's foothills, to the dojo where skeletons were training. He passed the clear-glass grove where faeries gathered over howdah'd rocks and rang the great bronze bell where his friend awaited.
"Whachu-"
Yulosi quietened as her old friend bowed. A vampire peered out from behind her and she smacked him across the face without looking.
"Flux," she said. "You old bastard."
Flux smiled. There was talk to be had.
