Cycle of Life:Prologue Armoured knights trampled the village green to mud. To those caught in their path, they appeared to be bizarre monsters, their humanity hidden beneath hard, chitinous shells; razor-sharp swords gilded red in the most precious of substances - life’s blood.All around, the air was thick with despair as the wounded reached out to one another with open hearts. The dead pretended to ignore their fate. Some lay with their ears pressed to the ground, as if listening to the slow heartbeat of the earth. Others directed their eyes upwards, watching cinders trace a lazy arc through temperate skies.A shrill cry cut through the clamour of battle as an Arch-Mage, dressed in bright ceremonial robes, gave a renewed call to arms. The animalistic scream took to the air: a symbiotic blood-cry fashioned from a living soul, savagely pried loose from its corporeal holdings.The invaders moved in a grim dance as they engaged the unarmed villagers in combat. Each wore a filthy white surcoat emblazoned with the twin signets of faith. The ancient symbol, which comprised of two interlocking rings enclosing a stylistic pattern, represented the link between heart and mind. Some of the village elders recognized it for what it truly was: a powerful sigil designed to unify the men in single-minded combat. Such tactics rendered them unstoppable, as it was easier to control men through magic than the archaic bonds of brotherhood and loyalty.The invaders marched towards their defenceless foes; gazes filled with righteous indignation; cold hearts ablaze with lust for battle.Death it seemed possessed its own voice. Its horror rent the still morning air. Everywhere, horror overlaid beauty - a grotesque juxtaposition of life and death. Then, the wheels of time unfurled a new day - a day as bright as the blood spilled freely beneath it.As one, the army came to a complete halt. The soulless invaders coldly perused the battlefield. Bloodied and battered helms concealed deadpan faces and unseeing eyes. As a new and monstrous future was ready to be born,
A young girl whom has grown up in the shadows of Amazon Warrioresses. Is she really the shadow or the true Queen? You decide.
Just a small story about a girl and a dragon. Almost pure fluff. =P I might do a longer rewrite sometime, I'm not sure.
A revision of Before the Storm that fits the new continuity. Seth's wrong turn running away from his friend Yumi may change his life forever... but in what way?
An update of 'End of Innocence', that was published in the second volume of WALL. A young Emejre named Alera longs to play with the children in her neighborhood, but something far different greets her when she makes it outside...
Do we really know what we feel out do we just push it away as though it was someone else
I wanted to try out smoe different structures for poems, so I decided to try an ottava rima. The content didn't turn out the way I wanted it to, so some of it sounds a little awkward. But oh well... *sighs*
my dear friend milo was talking to me about death and he gave me a good Idea for just a thing to write. it's not a story and not a poem, aghh!just see what you think. BTW, milo didn't put it in these exact same words but this is basically what he said. p.s I do have permission frim milo to post this up. but since I refraised it it's a joint work.
What woould happen if your objective in life is to get suicide but instead of that someone kills you?
A child is born into the perfect republic in the distant future. Everything is ordered according to justice and temperance. Philosophers rule as kings. What happens when this child is either elevated to the class of the guardians, or held back, as a craftsman? This story begins on Mordechai's last testing day. Either he will be elevated or remain in his station. Both paths are followed.
I wrote this a good while back about a woman who ruins the lives of all the men she encounters romantically