75 Arrows

20160927_151918

He shifted slightly in the saddle, letting go gently of the reigns, they both stood there and breathed in the view from the top of the ridge. In his peace, he realized it didn’t matter now.

Even if the government fell tonight, and democracy was swept away, he would still have one of the best trail horses ever made. He loved his Quarter Horse/Belgian mare. And he had his compound bow, but only 75 arrows until he learned how to make his own.

He dismounted and led the mare to the stream. Soon even people would be able to drink from the rivers again, having been cleansed. He was a little uneasy though, about carrying the bow wherever he went. What was it the pastor had said?

“Sometimes we hold onto our weapons, not willing to accept the new being made…..” Yep that was it……he was unwilling to accept the ruins and the new was having a difficult time breaking in. Maybe he just needed more time.

As the mare drank deeply, a noise to his right caught his attention. He swung around the bow, and his right hand instinctively reached back to the quiver……he wondered if the deer knew he was hunting…..

from the Apocalyptic Journal

     

Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Advertisements

The Survivors – Part II

100_5345

“You mean you built this place by yourself?” he asked, then realized it was a stupid question. Brie looked at him with steel in her narrowed eyes. But then the baby (a girl) at her breast adjusted herself and Brie softened immediately.

He was always amazed at how children changed women, adding a softness deep within. And the beauty of their bonding……well it was beyond words. He was convinced, it went beyond the deep exhaustion, and squarely into the realm of the supernatural.

Still covered in sweat, her blond hair somewhat matted, Brie cleared her throat and began, “Well I learned lodge building from the Mandan, I grew up in a town within their territory.” “Normally they don’t share the skills and ceremonies with outsiders….but they knew me, and then the wars started and the diseases..…..”

It had only been a couple of hours after the birth, but Brie needed to sleep. She handed the baby to him, which was surprising because she still had the large hunting knife next to her. She trusted him enough though, to hold the little one.

“What shall we name you little one?” he asked the baby not expecting a response. Brie had insisted he name the child, because he had removed the cord from around the child’s neck during childbirth. “You saved her life…..so you name her….”

He thought of Cheyanne but that name seemed too common among the survivors. “How about “Lakota”? It seemed to fit somehow. Brie stirred when she heard the name. With one eye open she said, “Lakota is the perfect name…..our…… Lakota…..” “Ours??” he asked out loud.

Narrator: And so begins the story, of how the Northern Peoples began again. A new hope was born. It was all part of the healing of the Earth, and her people.

     

Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

In the Wild Streams

100_1041

Will our children enjoy the depths of the wild streams when the end of all things is completed? Yes, as the ravens guard the river flow, and as wild geese fly over.

Having been washed by the great trouble we can see now, when our tribulation will end. As cities descend into ruins, the Earth will be healed, and cover over what used to be.

And we will not only bathe in the wild streams, but a new rotation will bring a cooling, and plants will no longer be burned. Our future generations of survivors will feel safe, within their deliverance.

     

Note: From the Apocalyptic Journal

Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Hawk Eyes

20160606_141413

Some of you may not know that I have a fiction blog, and that I’m currently writing a series of stories that I really enjoy, called Hawk Eyes.

The story revolves around a guy who develops some very strange eyes. He can see very far away, and has excellent night vision, and his eyes even look like the eyes of a hawk! He has also just met a young lady.

Here is a piece from the most recent segment:

I must have passed out, because I don’t remember anything before the two of us hit the ground, with a huge thud. The strange thing was, we were right back where we started. Was it a vision, or had we really turned into hawks?

To be honest, I couldn’t think straight, I was in too much pain, and as I rolled around moaning, unable to get up, I was vaguely aware of Michelle yelling at me. “What the hell is wrong with you?!!” “You almost killed both of us?!!” But her voice seemed distant and I had a ringing in my ears, so I ignored her.

As I began sitting up, she was still yelling, “You never give up, in the middle of a transformation!!” I shook my head trying to think, “A transfor…..what?” It was then that Michelle stood over me, with both hands on her hips. She said, “Trans-for-ma-tion.”, as if I needed to hear it slower. And then she did something I would never forget, and to be honest I wish she hadn’t done it…….

For more of the story, and other fiction as well, you can find it here:

www.themysticalforest.wordpress.com

The blog name is Blue Skies in the Morning, and the web address above will take you there.

Thanks for reading!

I will be posting some poetry here later today.

    

Writing and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

In the Midst of the Mystical Forest

20160927_152048

The latest from my fiction site The Mystical Forest:

It was as if the two of them were floating, traveling within their dreams. In the bright sunlight, they felt themselves moving high above the treetops, and heading towards the Great Sea. The sea and the sky became one, clouds and water within a mist, washing them.

They were lost in this other world, but it was not unpleasant. Floating brought peace, and there was no time here, just the moving through the mist of blue and water. But as they moved through this other world, the sun pierced through, and began shining on their faces. And as they returned to their bodies, the warmth brought back their spirits, and woke them, as if from a very deep sleep….

       

You can find the rest of the story, It Was the Sun that Them Brought Back here:

www.themysticalforest.wordpress.com

 Thanks for reading!

       

Writing and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies

The Swordsman – Conclusion

from fullhdpictures

As he left the tower, he sheathed his sword and remembered one final step in making sure the young girl was free. It had stopped raining but was windy now. As he lifted up his right arm he called for a strong northern wind, which came quickly. A whirlwind began at the top of the tower, and he directed it to lift the dust of the red demon into the sky. It would be spread in a million different directions, never to come together again. He had always been thorough this way.

Then the scene changed, and he was in the young girl’s hospital room. He hovered unseen at the top of the ceiling. Actually there was a slight shadow. The one thing he didn’t like about these assignments was he had to wear all black. It was meant as a camouflage really, and it worked.

In his mind’s eye he could see a window open, which gave him a brief view of the future. He saw the young girl coming out of her coma, in fact the next morning….. and she would live for a very long time. The horrible red demon had made her spirit afraid to live…….and now freedom had come, and living for her would be a joy again. He saw moving pictures of her playing with her brothers and sisters, at a playground, laughing and smiling.

It was a tough job, fighting for the humans, but he had never been more proud of his profession. He faded through the ceiling and the building, lifting himself up finally into the sky. He smiled, and was thankful.

        

Writing © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

image from fullhdpictures via google

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“When we love people, we give them hope.”