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The Eye Induction to the Pink Tendril

The story that will mind your heart.

By Aimee OrtegaPublished 3 years ago 6 min read
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Chapter 1

The Violet Rain (Queendom)

Dawn is flowering above the horizon. The cool air is crisp, yet dewy, with a whisper of Palmarosa and Vetiver scents, floating by to greet the Queen “Good rising”. She saluted with a smile. Serene is her front but her presence is invincible. Cloaked with the finest of veils, her bare flesh welcomes the aurora of the alpenglow. Perched upon her sovereignty, she sits still with her arms at rest. She is silent. Gazing beyond her fastidious dominion, her Hawk eye detected a Doppler blueshift beyond the rim of her Othala. Shortening of wavelength are delivering counsel of an incoming promiscuous gale. She is vigil. Her ringed gems of Emerald and Ruby did not clink a clunk as she grips her digits high around the shaft of her gnarled Wōden Quartz staff. From the bare balls of her soles pressing firmly on her Queendom’s moist soil to the Capricornus calves erecting her feminine skeletal design, arranging every bone and joints to a precise symmetrical stance, she mounts her stature to fovea the Eye of the Tempest. Fueling with a fierce focus glare, on a spot that is not there, she receives it all. Unyielding to the gust that is beginning to dry her optic globes, she sharpens her theory. Inhaling, she breathes in her Norse coded sky, reading the contingency of the impending electrical Chaos that will soon take place on her sacred grounds. Rolling in like wild bovines racing through the insipid clouds, thunder cracks revelations through the vista of her peripherals. She sights her sounds intently as purported tenets aimed directly into her visible hearing. Unruffled, she plants tall, rooting her Aries Ascendant in deep patience. “Justice is halting the Wheel. Karma is settling. Just pass the Third to be fixed within the Fourth” the wind averred. Pattering violet rain saturates her auric corium. Her solar-sacral plexus is sensing and rehearsing every thought powerful enough to have written her story as an emulated reality, a reality that had already taken place in this now time-and-space, an experience heralding a reconfiguration of her deepest psyche. Her sword is sharpened. “I am ready to under-stand” she voiced.

Chapter 2

The Blue Mountain Kingdom

Torrents of shimmering crystals are flowing effervescently between the fractures of the jebel. “Meraki! …is the name, and I am pleased to play the grounds!” The foolish prince sanguinely literalize to the rustling Yews, as he prances and pronounce his declaration of Joy to his one and only doyenne. “Dhyana, Dhyana, one day…” he thought. “You’ll see, the sea will glisten with stars that glow your flare!” He continues his parables as he gambols on stones that lands his bones. “This lad is tough! …my lady. It is you! …that is fragile!” A spark of Muse glinted in the corner of his eye. He snaps a turn to hook. “I see my way forward…” as he swiftly darts through the vines, seeking intently for signs. “I see you in the dark, I see you when it shines, I see you in my palms and in my blinds,” wind brushes through the fronds, “I am primed and permitted to permeate my baroness’s entire look.” Flushed with blush of his debonair grin, he recasts, “…I meant, entire book.” Fashioning himself as a suitable consort for his bride-to-be is organically engrained within his destiny. “Mere thought of you just whisk my breath into taboos. Longing for your touch is my own sense of hope and remedy,” he races faster through the dense forest, atop the tallest elevation, as he blazes trails of lit tracks behind him. “This Prince of Chalice sings your melody, draping this mountain with spells of telepathy. Dancing precious halos and dazzling reflective jewels, showcasing the Gem you have been eyeing to band your Apollo.” He came to an abrupt halt to the edge of a Lapis Lazuli ridge. Balancing a foot away from nothing, he fluidly recalibrates and returns to his equilibrium. The jolt from the cliff’s surprise was insignificant to what he is now viewing with his presence. Before him lies the unveiling of a spectacular scene. A scene so sensual to his skin, he surrenders his adrenaline, eases into his sight, then exhales with conviction-- he recites his credence from the symbols he translate, written on the layer of dusk that is falling. He raises his Jupiter, pointing directly at the heart of his beloved, then the Mercurian Mage delivers a mantra: “I will ride the waves of your tides into infinity with all my might in exchange for one simple request: for you to suffuse me with your Mind so as to free my own.” The silhouette of the Blue Mountain rises. A teardrop alters into pure crystal sphere as it rolls down his cheek bone and onto the ever rushing torrents. The lining of the mountain terrain, prints a phrase in between him and the Helios. Immense euphoria subdues him as he reads its signature, “I am here now”.

Chapter 3

The Ver de Animal Wisdom

The columned crystalline sea creatures of Earth-el gather to witness the main ceremony. Aquamarine beryl constructs the pavilion that is positioned at the pivot of their providence. The center focal stage is for leading ions to fuse gamma rays and amalgamate Runes. The breathe has no place in this realm. This lambent sphere is like a blind diplomat. It is the Just that chooses. It receives decisions, transmutes reasons, and delivers as senses with no concern for emotions. “Perennials of simplicity is Wisdom. The blades of grass written in narratives are the composites.” gifted the Vibrationem. Soon after, the Neutrals synced. Earth-el is now commencing the piercing of the veil, revealing the sacred union of verses.

“Read my lips my dear reader: first, matter is what you see; second, baryon is what you are not; third, valence is your resolve. Helix through the crown of your jeweled mountain or volute your scroll in your molten matrix. Any which way you choose, you will arrive in your presence, right here and right now, between the higher violet and the lower red, juncture in jubilation with your carbon replica through the pink tendril of the Eye.”

The prince fixes his gaze as his eyes follow the traces of her seamless outline dreamed up in his visual scene. He could feel her heart thumping against his chest. Doubt had long since departed from this surrendered soul. He is now in it for the laurels. He is now in it for his “other”, the One Earth-el Pentacle. Diverted, his pupil is unaccustomed. “Focus is the absolute manifest” he reminded himself. He spots a speck of green glimmer reflecting from his diamond studded rock. “Is that you, my lady?” Inching a step closer, the prince gasped with delight with a slight moment of relief. There she is, appearing before him through the Agapē threshold, where the prints have held her sealed and secured for eons of daze. Gently, she emerges, embossing herself from the surfaces of his visual reality. Tenderly touching down onto his Chaouen grounds with her bare soles, along with her dwindling Violet rain, she mouthed to the prince near his stunning lips, “all is crystal clear now to me now.”

humanity
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About the Creator

Aimee Ortega

My biography is a verb. Travel through my drops of short stories with your vivid imagination to reveal The Big Sea that is attached to my pupil. I am new, eccentric and just downright unorthodox. My suggestion for the reader: be open. -AO

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