Departed From Glory

He knelt next to the fire, hands outstretched, as he peered into the dancing flames. The smoke billowed into the sky, and disappeared into the black night. The stars shone with the utmost sincerity, as there was no other light to diminish their glory. The galaxy in all its brilliance had fully revealed itself to illuminate the night, but the fields were soulless for miles. There were none to admire the beauty of the sky.

None except Ichabod.

He grabbed the stick next to him, and prodded the fire, sending sparks cascading into the wind. The breeze was gentle; a zephyr that guided the flares into the unknown dark. The flowers and grass of the field danced at the kiss of the gust, and rippled as if a pebble had been dropped into water. It was as if the world itself was sleeping. The wild was begging to be explored in the beauty of the stillness.

(Ending 1)

Ichabod didn’t notice.

He was enthralled by the warmth and light of the fire. Leaving such a comfort was inconceivable to him. He tried looking into the sky, but the smoke blotted out the stars from where he was. The wind stirred the fire, causing Ichabod to pay special attention to it so that it would not go out. It was all he knew; there was nothing for him beyond the heat. The tongues of fire lapped at his flesh, begging him to stay. But the flames started to lessen in intensity. Ichabod bravely stepped away from his safe haven to venture into the dark. He came to a lilac tree in full bloom, perched directly by the waters of the lake. The moon revealed the glory of the scene, as the soft pink petals gently floated to the ground, swirling around Ichabod. The scene was one that could calm the blackest of souls; therapeutic in every manner. Until Ichabod reached out and grabbed a branch, snapping it from the tree. The sharp crack broke the perfect tranquility of the night. Anyone else would have heard the tree scream in pain as part of itself was removed from its existence.

Ichabod didn’t care.

He had one goal on his mind: to feed the fire. He took his forcefully-claimed prize and fed his companion without hesitating. The devouring inferno thanked him by growing in size and strength. The branch cried out as it was swallowed mercilessly and charred. The only memory of Ichabod’s actions disappeared into the night sky, and were swept away by the wind. Around him, the world was waking. The stars hid themselves, the moon’s gaze was cast elsewhere. The sun was now coming out, revealing the world for what it was. While the world was the same as it was in the night, it held a special kind of beauty that could only be revealed by the elements of the night’s glory.

Ichabod had missed it all.

With the day now breaking, there was no reason for him to stay at his fire. The warmth from the sun was greater than that of the fire, and gave off much more light. Since the world was now plain to him, Ichabod ventured away from his fire, and into the day. He wandered, seeking another suitable rest, should night choose to descend upon him again.

(Ending 2)

Ichabod suddenly admired the simplistic elegance of his surroundings.

Leaving the comfort of the fire was no problem for him, because he knew the spectacle of the wilderness was infinitely more valuable than that of the small fire. The crisp night nipped at his flesh, but he carried on, because there were sights to behold. He looked up at the stars, and could not count the vastness of the numbers. Ichabod looked at the flowers of the field, and admired the simple elegance. He looked at the perfectly still waters, noticing how the light of the moon was caught perfectly to illustrate a painting. He turned to the lilac tree by the waters, watching as the pink petals swirled in the wind, and gently hit the water.

Ichabod forgot who he was.

He forgot his fire.

He simply adored the creation.

All his life, he had known of the splendor of the night, but he had simply glanced over it time after time. The craftsmanship of the nature left Ichabod stunned. As the sun started to crack through the night sky, the darkness gave way to light, and the world was basked in a gorgeous orange glow. Eager to discover the scenery that left him breathless, he ran with a vigor he thought impossible. He had become giddy with excitement, and intended to learn about the world he had neglected so badly. As Ichabod ran off into the distance, the fire that had once captivated his interest slowly died down, until the final spark was gently lifted into the air, and was forgotten.

Originally written 1/27/15