Next New Age Abraxas 1:1-5
The boy could hear the soft chatter of the other children around him, but he was laser focused on his task. The more he worked, the more he found himself repeating certain shapes. He worked quietly, erasing and redesigning the lines that chased each other across the circles in the dirt. Sharp, straight lines formed a horizontal hourglass shape stretching across the middle. Between the two bottom points, an unfilled dot. Yes, the strong, pure support of God, perhaps? He liked the sound of that. A filled dot to mirror the first, between the top points of the hourglass. His mother, leading him along his path as he grew. He wanted to represent her in some way- she was all he knew. To the left of the filled dot he added another, and glanced over at his softly glowing sister. They shared a strange bond, but he found the softest parts of himself wanting to tie that bond to his soul. It felt unfinished. Simplistic, and asymmetrical. The sharp, arcing lines of his family crest drew his attention from where his mother had traced them into the dirt at her feet. He felt that pull again, those family ties. He carefully traced the downward curve, and the rebounding arc crossed above the mid-point of his hourglass until it touched the farthest end of the circle. Finally, he crossed over the shortest part of the family crest with two little lines. Those were just for fun. They looked neat. He had caught his mother's speech only in the sense that he was aware that she had been talking. Part of him felt guilty for not paying the utmost attention, but he couldn't bring himself to drown out the delight that came with the finished sigil at his paws. Two-toned gaze traced over the linework reverently, over and over. It was perfect. He then set about the delicate work of arranging the polished ball of dirt between his forepaws, and the sharpened end of the stick pointing straight out of his mouth. Oh so carefully, he repeated the sharp linework of his sigil on the new medium. He wondered if he was finished too early, or perhaps he wasn't putting enough thought into the task, if he was already finishing up. It was too late now, he had finished the carving. A soft exhale through his dark nostrils cleared away the debitage, and he found himself face to face with the finished product. It was perfect. Cradling the orb between his mismatched paws, he suddenly found it too precious to relinquish just yet. Perhaps he would hold onto it, and watch the other children work for now. He wasn't sure he was ready to move onto the next step, and strengthen the bond with God he had only just begun to forge. What if God didn't approve? What if his mother thought he was too hasty in his design? Tucking the orb close to his chest, he glanced furtively about, trying to get a better view of what his sisters were creating. Perhaps they had better ideas. Attention drifting to the work of his cousins and siblings, he took some small measure of comfort in having made something. Whether it was good, bad, or merely mediocre, he had forged a sigil from his heart. ooc. I do have an actual design, but I'm using the work computer and so the actual sigil will come with the next post or something lmao "speech" |
