Title: Imbue
Fandom: Original
Rating: G
Length: 404 words
Content Notes: no major warnings apply
Author Notes/Summary: Weird little story in second person POV



You come to the field on a rumor; something whispered on the wind. You overheard a conversation somewhere - you can't recall. You aren't the only one. A crowd has gathered.

A figure stands in the distance. Alone, away from the crowd. You move closer, in step with the other gatherers. The tall grass brushes your ankles, you look down and see each rich green blade beaded with moisture from the rain that fell early that morning.

Dressed in shades of violet and jade, the figure beckons you. Closer you see their suit is richly embroidered with metallic seeming threads that catch the sunlight like tiny prisms.

You stop and the crowd stills. Soft murmurs surround you but you remain silent as the wind dusts kisses along your skin. The figure points at the crowd and the murmurs cease. The figure (you're never sure of their gender) raises a gnarled staff in the air and suddenly thrusts it into the verdant earth.

The sound of crows cawing distracts you for a moment. You look away from the figure and search for the birds above. The empty is puzzling. When you bring your gaze back to the field, you see the figure shimmer, just for a moment, as if they’re an illusion running out of time. You don’t look away again. You’re not ready for this to end.

When it does end it, does so slowly. You're not sure how much time has passed but eventually, the crowd begins to disperse. Each individual drifting away, one by one. When you look again (though you’re sure you didn’t look away in the first place) the figure is gone. It’s time for you to go now too.

Your feet find their way on the path that takes you home. As you walk it all starts to fade from your mind. The crowd, the figure, the thunder, the unseen crows. Your memories getting thinner and thinner until you cross the threshold to your home and it’s gone. All you remember is that you stepped out to take a walk and the wind danced along your skin and it was...beautiful. You smile to yourself and think, maybe it’s time to write that story you’ve been meaning to get onto the page. Or perhaps you'll pick up that paintbrush you’ve been neglecting for far too long. You feel inspired in a way you haven't felt in a very long time.