Hello. Welcome to Ember. This project started out as a simple idea for a gift, and has become so much more than that. This nine-part story is dedicated to my favorite musical artist in the world: Kubbi.
On February 5th, 2015, he released the album Ember. This story is a response to that very soundtrack. Each part of this story correlates with a song from Ember, and is correspondingly named. Ember is an adventure that I hope you will enjoy. Thanks so much to Kubbi for releasing this amazing and inspiring creation. If you enjoy what you hear, please go give your support to him.
I’d also like to thank Emily Pineau of Nilly Writes for reviewing and helping me edit and being very supportive throughout the process of writing this.
The story corresponds with the soundtrack. I highly encourage listening while you read. The line breaks indicate the pace you should read with the music. Longer groups of words should be read with more energy and speed. You will get a natural feel for it as you listen (although don’t obsess over it, this isn’t necessary to understand the story itself).
This is part two of nine to a progressive story, which will be updated once a week. If you haven’t already started with part one, you can read it here. If you wish to see all of Ember so far, it can be found here.
For those of you continuing the journey, I sincerely hope you enjoy Ember Part Two: Ember.
Thank you as always for your support. ~<3~
A sky of crisp cerulean,
The sunlit clouds, vermilion,
Frosted grass, light aquamarine
Spruce trees hold their deep pine green.
The sun’s rays, vibrant, bright yellow,
The eastern horizon of indigo,
Empty branches, brown and tan,
Snowflakes fall of light cyan.
Walls painted unsaturated grays
Lit orange by the setting sun’s rays
A cold and windy winter’s eve,
A sunset’s beams through the forest weave.
Through the cold and down the road,
Zeina took in the colors as it snowed.
He knew most others would hide away,
But he had to see the hues of today.
He, the passive soul, had passion to create
And colors of paint served as his outlet.
Zeina drew anything he found beautiful,
And to make it full, he’d draw from his soul.
There was only one thing he’d ever wished for.
Even with a whole world of color to explore,
He just wanted someone to genuinely care,
And with whom he could create for, to share.
It’s something that he’d never had.
He was quiet, he was shy.
Zeina was solitary in his thoughts.
To stand out? He’d never try.
Zeina didn’t feel all that special,
As no one had ever told him so.
No matter what, he’d always draw.
It would help if someone believed in him, though.
It didn’t matter now, he had other things to do.
He never wanted to think of it in the first place.
But even as his feelings he tried to subdue,
He couldn’t find a way to settle his pace.
His heart cried for love that it’d never once seen,
People never noticed someone so invisible.
He was supposed to feel relaxed and serene,
But inside, Zeina yearned to be noticable.
He would try so hard to let go,
But he knew what his passion was, so
He wanted to try to find
A reason to feel so inclined
To draw for them, to feel like he
Had purpose here, and wanted to be
A little less shy, a little more open.
Maybe he’d love himself a little more then.
Zeina still walked, contemplating this.
He just tried to block it out.
He wanted to enjoy the night for what it is,
And not get tangled in self-doubt.
He could just now see the place he called home.
It wasn’t anything grand or impressive,
But with Celtic designs and influences of Rome,
There was no better place to live.
He switched his focus to the sky
And made himself see the beauty all around!
He wished to paint it, and maybe
Someone to give it to would be found.
He dreamed of someone who loved
To see all of these brilliant shades
Of red and crimson, and to watch
As each and every color fades!
Zeina relished in the dream
And wished what he had from the start:
That maybe there was someone who would seam
This great big hole in his heart.
Coming to his door, he reaches for a key
Only there is none to be found.
As he lives alone, he’s scared suddenly,
Until he hears a strange sound.
The door clicks
Slowly swings open
More curious than scared,
Zeina slowly walks in.
The house is empty,
No one is here,
Except for Zeina, who for some reason
Doesn’t really fear.
But who opened the door?
Surely not a robber.
“Hello?” he says, quietly,
And he didn’t expect an answer.
But then with wonder
He feels deep waves of energy
And sees bright colors in ways
He’d only imagined them to be!
And then he realized
That he had seen this all before.
It was his own,
Only that this felt like so much more!
Straight from his thoughts
These were the colors of his mind!
The vibrant values
Were so intensely well defined!
And in the center
Was a shape that slowly pulled him forward,
It had crystal purity,
And now he was falling toward!
The world felt like it turned around,
Everything felt so upside-down,
The rainbow flashed these colors pure,
Like amber, rose, and deep azure.
With yellow and vermillion,
And indigo, cerulean,
Bright orange, cyan, fuchsia, green,
A vibrant red, aquamarine.
And just as quick as it all began,
Everything settles down.
However, this did leave one small change:
Zeina is nowhere to be found.
Maybe someone should be worried, but
Who does he have to do that for him?
The door’s still open, letting in the cold,
As the last of the colored lights dim.
Wherever he is now,
To anyone who remembers,
You can still feel his prescense,
Like a burnt out fire’s embers.