Sunday, September 27, 2015

Tranquil Air - 5

My plan slowly came to fruition. The rocks I collected were feather-light once broken from the ground, just as the dirt had been. It was no great task to collect what should have been a literal ton of rock - and it all fit neatly into my pocket.

Satisfied that I had enough stone, I embraced the waters once again, sliding off the edge. I kept myself at a level just under my platform through sheer effort, and stuck stone after stone to the underside of the dirt. Stone, once placed, seemed to be immune to gravity, just as the dirt was. I soon discovered that the stone was happy to stick to itself, as well.

I could do a lot with such tools. I used to consider myself an artist, back before my impossibly potent magical talent in magic took over my life - and here were the most responsive materials I'd ever worked. I would make this world a work of art, I decided. My masterpiece.

After all, I had nothing but time and empty space.

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