Tag: Outcast

The Fracture: Of Pride and Lies (Part I)

by Desnei, posted in Fiction, Fiction, Rise of the First Blight, Short Story

Desolation. The scenery, a snowy tundra, begins blurring into an expansive desert. I begin to feel the change in temperature. I look around for any landmarks or signs of life. Nothing. The barren land is just that. Barren. I attempt taking a step forward but nothing. I try harder. A staggering headache stifles me.

Something burrows out of the sand. An old elf wearing sand covered rags climbs up with metal trinkets. He waves for me to come help him. Before I could even react I start rushing over towards the hole. Two patchwork bags rest at the bottom. I grab them and hurry to the elf.

“The ancient tower still holds many secrets. But I couldn’t get further. Its ancient guards are too much for anyone. I found these while they chased some other robbers. Those old constructs keep modifying themselves. Technology we can’t even imagine. At least with the scraps I grabbed we can trade for some rations. By the way, did you see any military caravans passing by?” He asks as if we knew each other.

“No. Only wind and more sand.” I answer without a thought. The experience gets weirder and weirder. Neither can I move nor can I speak. Something else controls me. Is this a memory? Or something else?

“I see. In that case we better go to the fence to trade in the scraps. These lands have become a lot more hostile than in decades past. I remember when I first came here. The military never came here, the Unbounded didn’t exist, and the other exiles weren’t so animalistic. It’s a scary place. And the tower had far less security measures.”

“I still have never seen the tower. Is it really that bad?”

“Let’s just say I hope you never do. Most people can’t survive even a few seconds down there. They, the guardians, run on some infinite source of energy from centuries past. And they continue the orders they were given. Excavate, learn, evolve, protect. They repeat those words endlessly. I wonder why such machines exist at all. Why is the tower so important?”

“Maybe the humans back discovered a way to tap into the world tree?”

“Well, if they did that explains why their civilization fell. That tree, although called holy by the rest of the elves, only brings the end. I was exiled for trying to burn the tree down. And why were you?”

“I saw something that the others were afraid of while I was a Priestess of Time.”

“huh? Something bad enough to make you join up with a terrorist like me? Interesting. I won’t ask you anymore until you’re ready.”

“I might never be. . .”

tree_of_life_by_cloudminedesign-d3izamu
Tree of Life

The Fracture: An Alchemist’s Greatest Tools — A Grimoire and Curiosity (Part 3 of 7)

by Desnei, posted in Fantasy, Fiction, Short Story

I shake my head and rub my eyes. A bitter taste in my mouth. I ignore it the best that I can but there’s no denying these memories. They follow me even in my sleep. The stranger leaving behind the book that leads me to saving a beast. The more I think about it the beast is an elemental of darkness. He’s never far from the light, he trails behind objects, and he appears in the night.

 
I reach my hand to feel the silky black fur. A light nearly ghostly feeling flows against my hand. The circumstance of our friendship. He feels my presence yet never senses a threat unlike the villagers. They exiled us. I still don’t understand why or how I could use mist alchemy without ever practicing it. A strong desire burns to rescue a misunderstood creature. In that desire the fires from within found their way. My fingers fusing with the beast’ s wispy, cold coat. The past few days seem to fade away.

 
After a few more minutes we stand up and look towards the sun. We walked and walked for the first two days leaving familiar territory far behind. The further we go the more hostile creatures become. Goblins, trolls, skeletons, and other creatures I only heard about in books. They stalk the low lands at the base of the Gorundin Mountains. Every time I nearly walk into a threat the black dog steers me away. I rely on him as much as he relies on me. That much is evident.

 
“We should start up the mountain today. I’m not really sure where else to go. The oceans are never forgiving and the villagers block us from heading east or south. And the lands to the north are far too frigid for us. So we headed out west. Our culture says those who break any law must atone by following the sun’s path to the Crystal Cathedral. I’ve never seen it with my own eyes but heard the elders speak about it.

 
The village oldest elder left for it a few months ago. Nobody has heard from him since. Maybe I’ll figure something out by the time we reach the Cathedral. He’s probably just relaxing up there never wanting to return to the village. I wouldn’t blame him. Our elders excluding him seek to further isolate us from the other provinces. A great hatred stems from our inaction in both politics and trade. Oh well they’ll hold to those ideals until the end of time. Me? I’ll figure it out but first there’s a mountain to climb.”

 
I begin walking up the elevating terrain and keeping my pace with the black dog. We listen for anything that might warn us of danger. Nothing. Until today a steady wind brought the chill of the mountains to the lowlands. This silence makes me uneasy. The black dog picks up on my feeling and perks up his ears. Something’ s coming. But what?

 
Suddenly the ground begins to shake. I stumble around getting my footing back. The dog begins backing up and whimpering slightly. I see it. A large object rising from the forest floor hidden behind a large tree. It yawns so loud that the birds fly out of every tree for miles around. I realize that the creature is a giant. They typically live in the valleys between the great mountains except during times of flooding. I stand there shivering, hoping he leaves in the other direction.

fantasy_forest_by_chillalord-d5g1pj2
Fantasy Forest

He Who Continues to Struggle Toward the Light, His Spirit Will Never Be Defeated

by Desnei, posted in Free Verse, Poetry

The light; concrete or abstract
Somehow we find ways to subtract,
Extract the heart beating inside.

Held down by a chosen destiny like the path had been set long ago.

And now when I’m looking in the eyes
Of others there’s a pestilence growing inside.
I’m just asking where does the heart reside
Now? Cast the die and take a ride
Through the bountiful gardens of decadents.

The day when it rains I wonder if it’s like a cadence or is it like an emptiness.

Are we living inside a trance?
Move by move we dance
Along to the melancholy tune.

I’m asking for a different kind of light coming from inside.

I ain’t looking for an ecclesiastical view, much less an optimistic one, just something to tell me that you feel. It feels like I’m surrounded by hollow men.

Abominations without a heart
But plenty of matches to start
A fire upon the fields of Eden.
What is this that we’ re feeding?

Ego, self pride, self-worth; neuroses plaguing the conscience and warping the outlook on life. Like a fish we took the hook for a little bait. So tell me where is the light now?

Did we snuff it out?
With a puff the candle went out.candle-blown-out

The Fracture: An Alchemist’s Greatest Tools — A Grimoire and Curiosity (Part 2 of 7)

by Desnei, posted in Fantasy, Fiction, Fiction, Rise of the First Blight, Short Story

The thing is withholding the truth never works out. I rush through the open fields toward the village. Some commotion on the outskirts grabs my attention like a man at his wits end grasping at straws. As I walk closer their shouts become much clearer. A group of men with spears and bows surround something. Is it a person? Is it an animal? Why do they need so many people?

Suddenly a black dog tackles one of the men down. It bites the spear in half, gnashing at the poor man’s throat, black tendrils hold back the others, and my throat dries up. I force myself to swallow. I cautiously inch my way toward the attacking beast. It’s ears perk up and it begins snarling at me. The others look at me as if to yell at me to run as far as I can.

We share eye contact for a few seconds. Neither me or the beast show any sign of backing down or otherwise weakness. I move a step closer. It holds its ground. This dance of superiority continues for far too long. Sweat drips down my neck, the beast smells my fear, our muscles tighten by instinct, it lunges for me, and I grab for its stomach. We roll on the dirt and fight for our dear lives.

Adrenaline pumps throughout my body fueling me to keep going. The dog’s strength overshadows that of any other I have ever seen. I realize I’m fighting a losing battle. Kicking the beast back I gain a little distance and more importantly time. Tendrils keep the others in a daze leaving me completely alone in this fight.

By sheer luck claw marks made a hole in my pocket big enough for the book to fall out. I grab it and feel the familiar warmness grow ever hotter. My hands burn as I feel something flow through me, my blood. The body’s struggle to regulate temperature, to supply nourishment to the organs, and to allow life. I think of the summer time where, after a long day’s work, one seeks refuge beneath the shade of tall tree.

Flames erupt from my hands. The black dog jumps back and whimpers like a small puppy. Memories of other dogs in the village return to me. I stumble and look the dog in the eyes. I lose my concentration ending the incantation. We stare at each other once again. This time we share mutual respect of each other.4153dc6217356f3b4068cfbdfffd2446--demon-wolf-black-wolves

Among the Sun and the Shade: Intro

by Desnei, posted in Activist, Short Story, Who I Am

They say disregard those that are weird and to accept those that are different. When their charade is exposed the journey begins. We’re sailing into a jungle where a bright Sun burns anyone outside. Most will steer away from this land of tribulation and seek refuge in the shade, but I can’t anymore. The Sun burns away the veil. . .

 

The Change Between

by Desnei, posted in Activist, Poetry

There’s a hope found in the inferno blaze
Licking at these feet again. Pillage and raze
The city on a hill, our midsummer daze.

They said “Every flower will someday wilt,”
But nothing of their guilt. Indifference?
No. Ignorance, an unwillingness to accept
That things will always change with time.

A first cry turns into a broken tombstone;
Be you rich, poor, good, evil, lost or found.
Life is the change in between. We might be gone
With our first breath but we still make a sound.

How could that ever be right or wrong?
For even a dew-kissed rose has thorns.

sa;bdry

The MAJI

by Desnei, posted in Activist, Free Verse, Poetry

These misguided efforts to overcome or change
An outcome is no more than a balancing act.
But who else would? The riddle of existence.

When others stand in your way clear the path,
Be them stronger, richer, or holier. Hell hath
No fury stronger than what hearts run on.
Not coal or oil. Blood and hope, life’s contagion.

I don’t bow and never will,
If power matters so much you’re unfit
To rule and you too must fade.

If the meek will ever rise we’re artifacts of an age
Long dead in terms of practicality. The war we wage
Never ends because we chase glory, our damage.

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The MAJI: Soldiers without a creed

Defiant Hearts (A Spear of Light)

by Desnei, posted in Activist, Free Verse, Poetry, Rise of the First Blight

From ashes of a tree obsidian walls rise around.
A ghost conjuring tragedy. Don’t make a sound.

The Obsidian Lord feasts on the hysteria and fear.
Like exuberant birds scattered by a gunshot
We’re the prey in this great hunt. For every tear
They still offer us no mercy. Rage so hot
Burning the rope that we hold onto ever so dear
In hopes that we can find water. Caught
Between hurt and hope yet, tomorrow is so near.

From a well we can still replenish what’s been lost
In search of who we are. They don’t understand
What we have on the inside that keeps us going.

No matter the darkness standing right before us we walk
Without fear. Never give them an inch or they’ll talk and talk.

falcon
We can’t let them be victorious. Be defiant until your very last day.

Of These White Flames

by Desnei, posted in Free Verse, Poetry

I spoke the lost truth born from the Loom
Of Woven Lies to avoid impending doom.

The reality we’re all too afraid to take witness,
But it’s there within the heaviness of our hearts.
Inside there is a war we wage that’ll never end
Because we never learn. I stand guilty as well.
My heart left calloused from attempts to see
While still blind. Words others said resonate
Like birds singing yet they’re nowhere now.

Why did they lie? I’m left here hung by their words,
My noose; the condemned convict left for the crows.
All I did was ask for the truth then they took swords
Against my existence. “All the stones a giant throws.”

I’ll burn in white flames until we can see eye to eye.
flwr

The Veritian Sepulcher

by Desnei, posted in Free Verse, Poetry

A pair of dice, a canteen half full of water,
My tattered clothes, and an aged claymore;
The items I take with myself into this minor hell.

Legends say a monastery once used this place
For burials until a necromancer cult infiltrated.
The clergy couldn’t stop them. They penetrated
Every facet of the faith until they could replace.

Eventually they created a laboratory deep underground
To reanimate the deceased, inspired by fabled liches.
Fabled. The truth is they aren’t. Two factions of the dead
Fighting for revenge centuries overdue. I’m just unlucky.

I slept sound in my home yesterday. In the late of the night they came
And dragged me to this death trap. A victim, a candidate; the same.
fear_by_akirakirai-d37teev