Where the Mists Began

The Mists, what is it? I guess the material that makes up consciousness. It’s something constantly changing but represents the concept of self. The self is not a certainty. People find who they are through their experiences. A blank canvas represents the Mists and life’s experiences represent the colors of paint on a palette. What they paint; what they become doesn’t matter as long as they live.

I thought of the Mists because I’ve always questioned bloodshed over beliefs. Many times beliefs weren’t at fault but used by others with bigger agendas. But what of the ones who believed in what they did? It’d be very cruel if one set of beliefs held credibility while others didn’t. Without certainty I created the concept of the Mists to move people from a narrow mindedness. Will others follow? Probably not. The contingency of humanity doesn’t gain much from working together against those with bigger agendas. They’re better off believing everything they’ve been told because they’d lose a lot of their comforts. I can spout ideals all my life yet get nowhere with my dedication. Selfishness will undoubtedly lead humanity towards a pinnacle moment where survival and luxury collide.

At that point the Mists took on a new direction as the basis of a fictional story. During my leisure time throughout my high school day I fleshed out the tale. A tragic hero named Desnei conquered death only to find himself cleaning up the mess of a world teetering upon its destruction. His world mirrors the real world in some respects to humanity and how we too teeter upon our destruction. Through his efforts Desnei saved his world some time after sacrificing himself. Without going into too much detail he originally lived during a time where four major cities vied for supremacy despite on paper being united by a World Government.

Two of the cities openly assaulted each other causing many mass exoduses during their hostility. Desnei attempted fleeing with his fiance with a military caravan. They discovered the opposing regiment sent out genetically altered humans after the caravan. Either him or his fiance had to assist a few soldiers in distracting the enemy. Chivalrously Desnei accepted the task and promised he wouldn’t die there. The thing about promises is we sometimes can’t keep them because every step forward has a risk. A risk that we turn and run, we try and fail, or we win this bet. He died.

The Mists welcomed the young man’s consciousness as his body stopped functioning. A question he often struggled with in life displayed itself in a way he could easily relate to. Run away or face the truth? Many humans find themselves caught between these two routes. It’s easy living in one’s limited view of life but harder learning from the views of others. Although the choice decided during life might not be the best in death there’s another chance. Is one path right or wrong? Not entirely. People advance at their own pace. A closed-off view will be safer than exploring the unknown. Taking the step from safety towards uncertainty must be directed by the person living the life no matter how much time might be spent. Desnei stated a great response towards himself at this time:

“You have lived your life and died by a choice to help another live one more day. Will you live on believing everything is alright or face that you’re dead without her? It hurts, yeah it should. You’re upset for obvious reasons but a choice must be made. Look forward instead of behind.”

Ultimately he accepted the reality. The place he entered contained trillions of other consciousnesses existing. Some were good and some were bad. Others told him about the layout of the Mists, the rulers of certain isles, the Fog of Lethe, and so many remarkable things he never believed in. Desnei decided he’d set off towards the nearest ruler named Rintaen but discovered true unrest in the Mists. A large squirmish between men and men with wings erupted over trivial matters. After he made landfall one of the men with wings promptly tossed Desnei and his raft back into the Mists. Unsure what he messed up Desnei drifted between that isle and another until a mysterious man appeared. Kronos.

They talked about the Mists for a long time. Kronos explained that the isles share names with writings from multiple faiths. The two isles nearby deemed Heaven and Hell may have similarities with their religious equivalents but they aren’t the same. This Kronos convinced Desnei that he ferried separated lovers from these isles back together at a cost. Desnei asked him if love could bridge a way back to the real world. Kronos replied:

“Of course love can make that a desire but payment is the means by which I can reunite you with your loved one. I often gather small memories from those seeking love but you’d sacrifice much more. I can’t take all your memories or I’d release a monster into existence. What to do. . .oh wait, a deal that only the living could do. Us figments of the Mist don’t truly exist and because of that we can never enter where you came from. Let me use you for my bidding. I’ll smuggle you to a place where hope doesn’t exist so you can do what’s impossible there. Revive yourself.

If you can’t I’ll bring you back here. She’ll die eventually then you’ll both be reunited and I’ll take a few unnecessary memories. What do you have to lose? Desnei think about what could be done if you returned. You probably wonder others never returned but that’s because I didn’t exist back then. A certain difference in the combined consciousness conjured me. So, what would you do with your renewed life?”
“Cherish every second. I’ll do it.”

That single choice started Desnei down an entirely different route than if he waited. This is what the Rise of the First Blight teaches people. We’re all humans trying our best but sometimes we make foolish choices. Good or bad doesn’t matter because life can become very confusing with all the differing variables. The journey he began here will open a new way for many others, a new set of variables. As a story Rise of the First Blight can be described as daunting for it’s meant to be something that reminds humanity about who we are.

sa;bdry

Carrying A Small Candle In Somber

My moniker Desnei serves as an antithesis to disparity. I decided that I’d never accept myself standing apart from others and will cross the line when possible. I’m no traitor but a visionary who seeks the unity of all men. We all have a responsibility to our fellow men to stand together through tumultuous times. Such a movement crosses every boundary imagined, it’s something known as compassion.

Often I’ve forgotten what I keep struggling for. Where others see conflict I see an unfortunate consequence of despair. People have never been pawns in a game because they have real feelings. To teach others a different way has been a calling reverberating throughout my body. I know humanity will always hold a candle of hope as long as generous people try. The light will never die if I touch another heart with my simple compassion.

And this is why I write; to let the compassion spread like a wildfire across the Earth, stop the potential hatred that could fuel the sorrow conjuring a million tears, and to help those in need. It’s true I do write fantasy that can sometimes be dark but compassion remains fundamental. The dark stuff exists because compassion was lost leading a few astray. In reality some people face times where life can seem very dark and unforgiving but they can be saved from it. Just reach a hand out for every one who feels lost.

I imagined up a universe where the virtues of humanity are amplified. Emotions are the main foundation creating reality for my characters and they must face them. Slowly the characters realize their universe started from the sorrow a man faced and never could overcome. They must stand against his fallible nature to teach him what he never learned about life. Life might not be perfect but it’s beautiful.

One character finds himself working for assassins after a wealthy mayor steals the his family’s livelihood. He faces many tribulations on the road of his life after giving into his bitter feelings. The mayor knows he wronged many people but finds himself unable to stop because the wealth makes him feel important. When they meet again only one will be alive afterwards. This isn’t directly a story of compassion. This event of indifference marks when possessions possess a man. Why does that happen? The mayor never deeply understood human compassion when he was a child creating a void in his behavioral growth. He inevitably chased his greed to his own grave. Now a young man must face his inner turmoil while moving from a terrible past to an uncertain future.

Without looking too deep into the specifics their stories are easy to relate with. A good family facing rough times can often lead some members into making bad choices. Lack of love will lead some toward any unsavory sense of belonging through such as greed, lust, wrath, and so on. Sins can very accurately describe a person’s disposition when they have lost all sense of control. I believe the best way to counter that chaotic impulse is to show that there’s more than what has been seen. If only everyone could feel like they belong but in a world of nearly eight billion people some can feel isolated. Don’t let them if you can.

I understand this is a very lofty aim but I can believe in it. If the compassionate side of humanity shines brighter loneliness will be eradicated. Through kindness a dark fantasy universe can be saved. So why not this single planet? I truly think humans can do just that.

sa;bdry

A Wretched Tale: The Darkest Night

I grabbed the dual berettas and walked towards the beasts. They clawed at my face as I kicked them back. I crushed one of their necks with my foot. The dark blood oozed out from its mouth. More of those beasts raced towards me.

They pushed me down and gnashed at my flesh. The darkness in their making seeped into my veins. Memories from the souls obliterated by them clouded my thoughts. I screamed because I once knew those faces as friends.

My blood sloshed onto marble floor. The beasts carved to the bones in my limbs. They ignored the meat and reveled in my suffering. Oddly my thoughts weren’t on saving my life but the absurdities in this life.

Fear chained me from ever taking action. I never trusted anyone because they could hurt me. They weren’t these demons but they scared me to the core. What if I failed them? They’d abandon me without a second thought. All those frightened souls looking for a reason to stay.

We walked away from each other. When the demons arrived we ran from our friends in need. The concept of survival destroyed everything we created together with a single strike. I stubbornly accepted that as the only way but they needed me. What good is living if you’re alone?

I never meant for the love we shared to someday die. This tragedy stoked the dying fire left in our memories. I grabbed one of the demons and tossed it against a wall. My arms trembled from the pain but I used the berettas tearing a way through the pack.

They watched me and slowly advanced. Their warfare tactics pushed me into a corner where I propped me body up. I unloaded on their front line, propelled myself through the formation, chomped on one of their necks and drank the demon’s blood, and suddenly my vision went black. . .

My body banished my mind from control. I joked around with my thoughts during the whole entire time. I shunned myself for drinking tainted blood but knew I would’ve died if I didn’t. The selfish nature I succumbed to will bring its tolls until I’m dead from the weight I carry.

I forced my eyes open to see the horror. Dark blood healed my wounds, my hands grew claws, and I spoke in their tongue. The demons laid decapitated around me and their blood formed a design, a circle split into fourths. Unable to move myself I loosened my grip on my humanity.

Who are you? I am you. The blood holds the memories of others and the demon. When you drank it you accepted us. We are you now. What are you doing? You need to regain control and assume your human form. You’ll die if the demon blood takes over. And how does this fix that? Blood purifying. The afflicted blood makes the symbol, to the left humanity stands, demons haunt the right, and the accumulation of dreams leads the way. Essentially we’ll sacrifice a human, a demon, and a Mistkin for you to live. I DON’T WANT THAT!!! You don’t have a choice, live on for us who reside within. The demon’s chains shattered and our memories don’t want us to die again. Please.

Three near dying beings stood in the circle with me. My demon blood started flowing out of my eyes. The demon and human evaporated into spheres of light cleansing the dark blood. I dropped to my knees because of immense pain. I watched the Mistkin be drained of his blood to save me from blood loss. He absorbed the cleansed blood until the ritual finished. He changed into a being of pure light that spoke.

“Ah, you are the one. The true sinner who stays alive to defend the holy radiance. Born of humanity and bathed in evil. You’ve seen the light from the darkness. A knowledge forbidden because few man are worthy of the sacrifice. To always see the radiance but never reach it. And what is your name Lightbringer?”

“Shadow, a moniker because the real name has been lost.”

Archangel Origins: The Lion’s Awakening ~ Prologue

“The ancient times when steel obelisks stretched towards a blue sky harbored both cathedrals of light and dens of darkness. Many people during that century never noticed the forces in control of their lives. Why would they wish to? A sense of safety was found in the day to day struggles that their social hierarchy created.

After seeing such a system destroy my own world I found myself in a place I can only explain as a requiem. The echoes of every organism endlessly reverberated there. However, an urge pulled me deeper into the sound until I could distinguish between the moments in time. I stayed there watching a trillion separate lives unfold. There was something beautiful in the uncertainty, no the randomness, of their lives tossed into an unknown Universe.

I drifted among that pseudo-space of consciousness for what felt like an eternity. Memories from great scientists, selfless priests, honorable men, and noble leaders demonstrated how beautiful the outcome of life could be. Their deeds inspired me greatly.

I finally realized I wasn’t in control of my drifting between memories. A force comparable to the pulling of tides moved me further through the pseudo-space. I stayed patient and opened my heart for the memories ahead. My thoughts centered around them instead of myself. I even forgot about my own life for a while there. That sudden release of identity never frightened me, never created hysteria, and never felt wrong. The feeling must be explained as nostalgic because there exists a point in every life where memories don’t exist.

Remembering now the life I lived had many struggles but I never stopped reaching higher. I never made it to my unrealistic goals and continued on until the day a war destroyed my planet. It was my home. Like a fairy tale the planet garnished something quite miraculous for such a short time. I’ve never loathed the end of any great tale because all good things must end someday. In truth my past stopped mattering when my death catapulted me from my materialistic universe into this pseudo-space.

Fate, the best name for the force that moved me, led me into a darkness. The number of memories here greatly diminished compared to the bright place I was earlier. I watched very dark memories taint other memories with malign intentions. Suddenly a large burst of energy knocked me away from that area to another.

I landed on my back upon a cobblestone path. My eyes affixed towards the pseudo-space above as I coughed from the hard landing. I sat there confused and watched the dark and bright memories violently clash overhead. Something about this frightened me more than the super nuclear weapon that destroyed my entire planet. My body shivered from the fear but I forced myself onto my feet.

This is where my story begins. . .at the end of my life.”

sa;bdry

The Heart of the Drageci

Solomon watches the time slip away
From his hands. The tears they flood
And he dreams of drowning in them.

One day a strange, cloaked woman
Finds herself chased by angry men.
Rattled by his thoughts he watches
In horror as they drag her into an alley.

He knows he has to help but his body won’t listen.
Blood oozes from the alley with a strange glisten.

The woman returns and stares at Solomon
Who backs up. She reveals to him her face.
“The Heart of Drageci shines like the Sun
In you. They made you the king of our race.”

“King? I have nothing near nobility in my blood.
Go find yourself another murderous psychopath
To play this game with.” “You killed an entire race.”
“By loving someone far too much.” “Love exists.
You just didn’t know what that ring was and paid
In a way steeper than the Mistwalkers. I’m sorry.”

“So what is that Heart of Drageci? I’m curious.”
“A seven chamber heart. Four for your blood
And three for the Mists. We are of their brood,
The Mistwalkers bred with humans.” “Delirious.”

“Maybe but I’ll be by your side always, my king.”
“Great. . .I attract crazy.” And thus the bells ring
For the day fate comes by yet no angels will sing.
sa;bdry

The Desert of Time

The page burns away when met by a flame.
Days where I couldn’t find an easy way to tame
My mind’s eternal hunger left me with scars.
Writing the best I could yet finding only tears
In myself transcending to the page. A story
I wanted to tell though I never knew I’d be sorry
For the words never felt right. I forced my hand
To write when my mind doubted creating sand.

Each and every grain of sand is a piece of the desert
I find myself stranded in, my own existence left inert.

A darkness sleeps under the lost pages
Listening to my heartbeat. I keep walking
In search of an oasis where the dark is not.
Fanatical creatures meet me in my travels
And in a passing glance we will drift apart.
The beauty in this plane of imagination
Gives birth to an appreciation of what I make.

Caught at the eternal crossroads of clairvoyance
I sink further into the sands to find my resonance.
sa;bdry

Of These Passing Stars; Part VII

Ariex, have you known all along? The demons of this world don’t have horns. They walk beside us unto the sound of creation, destruction, and resurrection. I was an idiot to think that the sides are so easily divided. The two marks have taught me that we are wrong. But my duty remains the same. And you will need to follow your own duty.

My body can’t handle both the darkness and the light. You’ll know what we should do but I can’t give you my burden. We’d be playing right into their hands and our suffering won’t end with death. Who are they? Who made these monsters both human and not? Two brothers recreated among creation endlessly to guide everything. A differing point of view created a war that has no victor in sight. Futility is in our nature yet we succeed.

We started as kids running on meadows of grass. Those days we believed in adventure and fun. Tragedy haunted on the outskirts of our Eden like a serpent. He watched us grow from children into men. We walked separate paths and met him along the way. My heart poisoned when everything came crashing down. The tragedy of laying your love to rest. And the darkness I found myself in blinded me from Ariex’s darkness.

He abandoned the Royal Protectorate. An order made him question his humanity. The High General decided to execute unaligned Mist Alchemists in Southern Dragacia. He saw a kid lose his father because no one would help. Orders are orders. Ariex repeated that a lot to justify the past. On different paths we sat there and stared at nothing for months. We lost sight of the endless blue skies of our Eden.

I grab a corner of a stone wall. The memories stimulate the marks making my blood feel like it’s boiling. I try clearing my mind to no avail. I begin inching my way towards where Ariex will be waiting. The guards and the people laugh at me like some drunk. Tears roll down my cheeks but I keep moving.

Suddenly I lose my balance then fall on my back. I gasp out air and gaze at the cloudy sky concealing the Sun. A desire to give up washes over me. I shakily reach my hand out towards the sky. Someone gently grabs my hand. The warmth of this person keeps the doubts at bay long enough for me to get on my feet. The person laughs at me but never turns to face me.

“Synji, you idiot, did you really let yourself get cursed again? What would our parents say? We only have one choice if you don’t want to die.” Ariex’s deep voice carries a sense of rationality.

“Well Raejak and you agree I’m an idiot. Thanks! Asshole. And do you mean we should do an absolution? You know that only makes things worse. An Endarkened and an Envoy of the Mists? Are you flipping insane? The tale of Karthentrex and Pan should tell you how terrible of an option this is.”

“And you think dying will be better? The curses will dissolve whatever remains of you. If you live that is more time to change fate. Choose against life and you never existed at all. You can’t leave me all alone. I know this choice will condemn many to pain but they’ll survive because that’s what we know to do. Survival is a part of human nature.”

“This is from the person who also says that laziness is a part of human nature.”

“I’m not going to waste energy on barely surviving. We have minds so use them. When survival is easy and we can relax then we can learn. I learned that an absolution blends the existences of the two participants. We’ll know everything about each other even the things we don’t want to. The only thing is that the hearts must be aligned. Do we truly do this just to save you?”

“No. My life isn’t worth that much to me. We do this with the intention of reversing fate. Too many people accept what they’re given. Screw everything and we will rise.”

“That’s my brother! By the light granted through Karthentrex’s knowledge and the darkness created with Pan’s death the tree of chaos arose. The choice to mend the Universe tree was made when nothing should be allowed to live. If they had walked away everything would have faded. A Universe sentenced to deletion that refused its fate. We are the children of a forbidden plane.” Ariex grabs my hand creating a powerful light in our palms.

A warmth washes over the coldness of my heart. The clouds above start swirling and create an opening for the Sun. Light focuses on my chest where the Mark of the First Blight rests. Painfully the light burns away every trace of the curse. No one else sees the absolution because the residents of this city are blind to the Mists. But the High General watches from the castle and knows who is responsible. The light from the Sun turns dark with the curse.

Something keeps the light from finishing the absolution. My memories of the Endarkened emerge in the city. Three portals appear above the city. An eye, a staff, and a gavel come forth. They judge our worth. A arrow flies from where the High General is and pierces the eye. Raejak comes from nowhere and closes the portals with some complex Mist Alchemy.

“You have no power here Grand Judge. The eye is blind. Go back to the Stones of Fate because someday even you will fall. I’m sorry. You will not erase another Universe because it wasn’t perfect. Let these two be free from your judgment. We might be damned but there is still hope. I, Raejak, will atone if we fail. These are my conditions.”

“This is Raejak? You’ll be a great pawn in the End. Your belief in hope will diminish in the future. The Stones of Fate only says that I’m more sorry than you. I’ve forgotten so much but I feel like I must erase your Universe. You all remind me about something I hate. Rintaen made a similar bet with me. I accepted his because I wanted this to be entertaining. I’ll accept yours because this is my only way to win. You can’t deny fate.”

Everything returns to normal. The Mark of the First Blight rests on its new bearer. Ariex and myself stare at each other. He touches the mark and winces from pain. I pat his back. We look up at the still cloudy sky. Randomly another arrow with a letter zips by into the stone wall. I open the letter and find detail orders for Ariex and myself.

Ariex grabs the letter from my hands. He starts laughing then hands it to Raejak. Strangers give us very frightened glances. I sit down and rest my head in my hands. Raejak tears up the letter, they both sit next to me, and we stare at the castle.

“We aren’t allowed to ever return. Our last mission for the Royal Protectorate has begun. Can someone tell me what the fuck just happened?” Ariex asks with some unease.

“First, we made a deal with something from the Mists. The Grand Judge was unexpected. I was briefed by the High General on the chance of failure. If we didn’t make a deal the First Blight would start and we’d be unable to stop it.

Second, the orders are the true objective of the Royal Protectorate. Have fun fishing for the next two years Ariex. Be sure when you meet the kid you don’t kill him. He is a good kid just the hate he has for the Royal Protectorate makes you the best candidate. You only need to bring him to the Devil Straits in Aldrassil. After that the dominoes will fall.

Third, Synji and myself need to destroy the home of the Endarkened. The Gorundin Mountains have a huge secret that we’ll unravel. If we are successful the world will have more hope. We all may end up being despised by history though. We are knowingly creating a disastrous future that will undo everything the Grand Judge hopes to accomplish.”

We look back up to the sky. The clouds are clearing up. Perhaps a city divided but at this moment it’s beautiful. The people living their lives unaware of the scary truth. Us three must protect all of this because although they may be wrong they’re happy. Whatever may come I’ll do my best to live and protect this city divided.

sa;bdry

Of These Passing Stars; Part VI

“The experiments conclude that there is no easy way to balance the two energies within you. We really should find an alchemist with the knowledge about the Marks of the Forsaken Brothers. More specifically we are after disciples of Pan and Karthentrex. The intelligence branch sent me details on a lead north of Dragacia. Do you have anything left to do in the capital?” the doctor taps his foot and anxiously glances at the door.

“One thing. This needs to be off the records though. My sources spotted Ariex, my brother, and arranged a meeting. He worked with alchemists of the sect we need. If you want I can go by myself.”

“No. My duty is to watch you . Even if we raided a garrison I’d have to be your accomplice because the High General hates loose ends. Screw him but I have my orders.”

“Damn. I’ll be ready in a second Raejak just get the one device I’ve seen you used to sneak out.”

“I know not what you speak about Synji. I’m a good medical doctor of the Royal Protectorate who respects the Mist Ban.”
“And we totally aren’t the only regiment who uses Mist Alchemists. The taboo is stupid and everyone knows that. Society uses the alchemists unjustly to hide the true issues we face. My brother left the Royal Protectorate for that reason. I envy his strength for walking away from what’s wrong.”

Raejak tosses his arms up then walks into the other room. A few books fall to the ground. He curses the realm of physics for scheming against him since the day he learned about the Mists. He tosses a little metal orb with engravings all over its surface. I glance at the surface and realize there is a map of the capital on it.

“Synji where do we need to head? Also grab my shirt because I don’t think you’ll want to walk there.”

“District Nine.”

He turns the orb until he finds the place. A ray of light emerges from a hole and touches Raejak’s eye. The light thickens up until his eye can’t be seen. Suddenly light rays shoot off from the first one then crisscrosses around Raejak and me. I get all dizzy but hold tightly to Raejak’s sleeve like an anchor.

We appear in a filling bathtub with two naked men in it. Me and Raejak stare at each other for a few seconds. One of the men gets all angry while the other hides his junk with his hand. We start laughing uncontrollably. The angry man punches Raejak in the face making him fall out of the tub.

I get out and grab Raejak by the leg then pull him to the door. The two men keep watching us. We both put our index fingers over our mouths and shush them. When we get out of their house we begin laughing again. Strangers give us mean glances. Raejak finally stands up and I pat his back.

“The town never changes. We get looked at like some disreputable vagabonds. Decades of isolationism but society is the same. It is a wondrous quandary!” exclaims Raejak.

“Raejak, shut up. These people have been controlled by things they barely question. We have competitive sports, competitive politics, competitive jobs, competitive beliefs, and competitive everything. They wouldn’t realize equality and respect if they slapped them in the face.” I grab a cigarette and light it.

“What’s your proof?”

“Look over there. A crime scene where someone got shot. There is an angry crowd standing over there blaming injustice. It isn’t that and they should know that. History says there was a time when people didn’t even have to mass together to express how they felt. We have lived in the same world for centuries. They have much to be happy about but no they all want to extrapolate the situation for their egos. Kind of tragic if you ask me.” I puff out a cloud of smoke.

“You have a point. I just wonder how others see it. Do they truly believe they’re right or were they never taught to think? Education is the first step towards leading a better life. The education system keeps getting worse. Less free thinking and more memorization. All the schools do is perpetuate the problems. Some good teachers still try but the majority just do what they’re told. When in war for us soldiers we must follow our general’s orders no matter what. If we don’t we are labeled deserters. And if we follow the orders and it creates a travesty we’re labeled tyrants. Both things are wrong but society gets to dictate what’s right or wrong.”

“People need to just walk away. Follow your heart and if you’re wrong accept it then move on. And if it gets too hard take a nap. Everything will be better when you awake.”

“I’m not sure laziness is what we need.”

“Would you rather be a lazy bum or someone who only does what he is told?”

“Valid point King of Sloth. Well go find your brother I’m going to drink this bottle of wine and take a nap. Use the code phrase to wake me up.”

“What code!?!”

“The High General’s wife is a slut.”

“Really? That’s the code? Fine! Just don’t go into the brothel because I’m not pulling you out of that diseased cesspool.”

“Probably was caused by the High General’s wife.”

“You don’t like him do you?”

“Fuck you. Go talk to Ariex and remember the code. It’ll save your life.”

sa;bdry

The Hearth of Darkness

A star sent spiraling into nowhere.
The journey has been abandoned
And there won’t be any light forever.
I am sorry my friend. A rope I should sever
But never do. Your life stationed
At the end. I still look for you somewhere.

Among the stars your light faded and I grew jaded
Towards a world I never knew. I’ll forever be faded.

Young hearts pierced by a rusty blade
Then torn apart. You got this way of twisting
Your words into weapons and leaving me silent.
Oh, truthfully I resent you. But it was you I fought for
And who I’d die to protect. I didn’t know I’d bury you
Among the ruins of a life we failed to achieve.
Did I deceive you when I made forced your final breath?
It mirrored the ecstasy of your nighttime moans
Yet I cry for you because I didn’t want you to die in my arms.
Why do I say such hateful things at your grave?
Sins sealed your fate my dear and now I must go.

I raised my sword to fight the unseen threats.
As I trusted you you became the unseen;
Lust danced in your mind. A smart man retreats
From that situation. I had to be so mean
And slay you when the darkness consumed you.
My town sacrificed for carnal desires
Then I came back afraid of everything. The few
Unchanged told me about your hearth of dark fires.

Enter Fear

You were the woman I always knew, a lie for my heart,
And I entered your sin without fear. I’m unable to depart.

The darkness started ebbing from your body
Like some tainted spring. I drank deep. A curse
I willingly accepted. Flames of darkness danced
Around your undressed body and I reached through.

Enter Passion

Shadows in the light of dark flames
Merging. Midnight struck as our fingers
Tensed and mouths tasted of sweet wine.
Your words danced in my head like flower petals
Caught in a gentle breeze. We lost all sense
In the delicacy of flesh. Like two molten metals
We became an alloy, the same. Twine
Around your soft wrists where fire lingers.
Playing games against sanity’s frames.

The darkness claimed us both. Falling into your Hell
I knew it was my fault for leaving. But you are a shell
Of your former self. I made sure to kiss and never tell.

Enter Light

My eyes opened up. The corpses on the walls
All had mouths opened and eyes closed.
A sigil burnt upon my chest from our love
Eats away at the sanity to resist this beast.
You turned into a beast and left me here
All alone. I looked inside to see darkness everywhere,
Your eyes mirrored the night, the screams of the dead
Remain in this room, and you’re their Endarkened Queen.

“Oh, my love for you has no end so sweet dreams forever.
Find yourself reborn in the light and remain there forever.”

ENTER FEAR, ENTER PASSION, ENTER LIGHT

I made a grave marker after I burned everything down.
The sigil remains but my duty isn’t over. Wear the crown
Of my heart, my dear, and break the curse of your nightgown.

The weight of your death oddly gives me clarity.
I miss you and for that I continue on with sincerity.
sa;bdry

Of These Passing Stars; Part III

The words I write come to life in my mind. I witness the light of everything yet the dark remains. Without darkens we would never know what light is. But the magnificent stories I see within tell of overcoming the darkness in human hearts. Through wandering eyes is how a story of another world begins upon our own.


     Dew falls from the leaves of trees like teardrops as I race with my men towards another battlefield. Mud kicks up with every step our horses take covering the tree trunks and scaring away small animals. The sky clouds over to block the Sun. Our eyes keep focus on the billowing smoke in the distance.

My hands shake with fear and I readjust them for what feels like the hundredth time. The other men hold their heads downcast knowing death awaits some of us. A lieutenant studies the map of the land noticing that the land is different. Fear is a part of what we do for the Royal Protectorate.

The Royal Protectorate has many branches. Some branches are nobler than others but they make a single tree. Documents say the organization exists in opposition of tyranny. Us soldiers don’t think in as grand of notions as our superiors because we have one thing worth fighting for, our homes.

A few months ago a special unit was made to subdue alchemists in the nation of Dragacia. Alchemists are people born with a connection to something known as the Mists. The truth behind their origins is well hidden. I could care less about the alchemists because people are people and there are both good and bad people. Our superiors decided they are too dangerous and unpredictable.

Give humans more power and their true nature emerges. Their sinful nature will destroy everything we have made. We must control them, study them, and decide the best action. A speech given by the commander of the Royal Protectorate. Words and allegations condemned people from living their lives. My unit feels uncertain about the way this is being dealt with.

We can’t bear to talk about it. Our missions are more important than dividing the public. I have seen an alchemist go berserk only because of persecution and for that one event they’re judged. What of our cruel words that push them towards the ledge? But the Royal Protectorate swears the monsters are them. Only my unit knows where the real monsters exist.

Centuries ago when the human empire collapsed something was created. A weapon created to shatter the connection alchemists have to the Mists. The connection is in every human but that was a theory until the weapon detonated on their city. Technology that could magnify the energy in the connection, compress it, and release it. They created a bomb.

A third of the Earth was swallowed by the explosion. Mist radiation followed the air currents. The radiation wasn’t lethal but it changed the ecosystem rapidly. No records written from that event until three centuries ago meaning we lost a millennium.

People have tales explaining why. I don’t buy into any of them. My men and I fight abominations made from mist radiation. I think for a millennium humanity fought these things. Their numbers dwindle but they wander near towns like starving wolves. We took upon the task of eradicating them but we have no clue how many there are or if they can breed.

I close my eyes trying to think. Something huge knocks me off my horse. My eyes open and I stare at the clouds above wondering why I can never rest. I unsheathe my blade to stab the ground for balance. A beast made of shadows stands before me and in the shadows I could see faces drowning. One of men lays under a foot of the beast and the cracking of his bones echoes inside my head.

“Men we came here to wipe this creature from existence. If we don’t it’ll kill more than just us. See the souls captured in its shadows? Death is only the start of the pain it’ll inflict. The three alchemists need to stand behind me. I’ll give you time to cleanse the wound but if I survive tell me what these truly are.” I rally my soldiers the best I can.

“That’s a big if General Niteblade! But this won’t be easy like the last few. It is thriving off of dark emotions of the victims to create a shield. And we have no idea how to destroy that.” shouts one of the alchemists.

“Well fuck what am I supposed to do?” the lumbering beast darts at us but I raise my swords just in time to deflect the blow.

“Improvise!” screams everyone even the lieutenant.sa;bdry