The Aeolian Master Book One Revival

by John Northern

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  In his other world Em couldn't hear her, and even if he had he couldn't have told her where he was.

  He surveyed his new world. It was different from his other world. The waves no longer crashed against the rocks, sending foam and mist into the air, the dark clouds no longer created lightening—shaking the night with a blinding force, and the wind no longer ripped the countryside with hurricane speeds, bringing terror and death to those hiding in even the strongest of shelters.

  No, indeed, it was a peaceful world. Em looked at the distant mountains with green forests pointing toward the heavens, and then he looked at the tall and wide spreading trees nearby, the flowers in the meadows. Above was a blue sky with scattered, puffy-white clouds. Not too far away he could hear the gurgling of a stream, and as he looked in that direction he saw someone standing on the bank.

  It didn't occur to him to wonder or question why he had entered this world. Instead, he enjoyed the serenity and tranquility in his newfound environment.

  Maybe I should talk to the person by the stream, he thought. He started walking in that direction.

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