Paula's Prompts: The Spiral

On March 7, 2018, P.T. Wyant posted at ptwyant.com a Wednesday Words writing prompt involving a baby bird, a stream, and a spiral.

Lord Ruthvyn chose to take over my imagination with this On the Other Side of the Mask freebie story about Byron. No, it's not the actual Lord Ruthven and Byron. This Lord Ruthvyn is one of the mysterious pale lords whom rule the isolated gray city of Paradise from the palatial estates. This Byron is a former choir boy who chose the name of a rebel poet from another world, only to find himself banished from Paradise to the tender mercies of Lord Ruthvyn.

On the Other Side of the Mask is a steampunk alternate world story I submitted, only it was rejected. Expanding it is one of my many Works in Progress. :)

The stream trickles its way through my garden. It could take you back to Paradise, my dear, if you followed it one direction. 

If you were to reverse it, why, who knows where it might lead? To your precious freedom, perhaps. 

I can feel hope fluttering in your breast, baby songbird, even as you try to flap your immature wings. Oh, yes, I feel your resistance, your wish to take flight from the nest I’ve prepared with such care for you. 

Such ingratitude. Did you think I wasn’t prepared for that, too, Byron? 

You attempt to fly in the direction of the stream, but you’re caught in a spiral, a dance of wind and wings. You’re pitting your will against my design. 

We descend, circling each, descending into each other’s madness, the rings of our opposing desires. 

You cannot escape from my grounds, the lands twisted with my pain and broken dreams. They’ve been peppered and seasoned with so many others. 

I can’t escape from you, either, my little songbird, beating your wings and pecking in defiance at everyone and everything that’s ever hurt you. 

Especially me. 

You’re so much like I was, Byron, back when I had a soul. Back when my pain belonged to me and me alone. 

This was before the Goddess cradled me in her bosom, blessing me with her chill immortality. 

If only you knew the peace and purpose which lies in her embrace. 

Someday you shall. I must simply care for you and cage you until you stop flapping your wings, trying to fly toward a stream leading to a freedom that doesn’t exist.