The Fracture: Of Pride and Lies (Part I)

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. . .”

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Tree of Life

The Fracture: An Alchemist’s Greatest Tools — A Grimoire and Curiosity (Part 5 of 7)

I reach up into a spruce tree. A conifer branch‘s needles scratch at my hand. I carefully break off the end of a branch. The strong smell it secretes tinges the air. Using a blade of grass I tie the end and place the bundle on a flat rock. I look at the burning Sun then focus on the bundle. Thoughts of warmth and greed pollute my empty mind.

From the immaterial a form emerges. A burning sensation spreads through the individual cells in my arm. I wince from the pain. My cells start feeling as if the moisture starts boiling. I gasp for air. The feeling calms down a little and I begin focusing on the bundle again. The spruce needles move back and forth as if by the wind.

A spark sets the bundle ablaze. The smell of spruce fills the air even heavier now. I clear my throat and begin chanting a few words:

“The way is lost. We pay the cost of nature’s host for a toast. By the very circles and forlorn passages we come bearing the words of men. Must we be lost or can be found? The way remains lost. We ask the ghost of the forest to guide us. Hear us.”

A form materializes from the smoke. It beckons to me like a beautiful woman. My legs move without my consent and the smoke touches my cheek. I loosen my muscles up, the thick air shimmers around me, Daefyr watches from a few yards away, and daylight cascades through the treetops. The spirit dances for a few minutes.

“I hear thee. The lost. Seekers of the West caught between elven sorrow and human wrath. Will you cure the wound or infect it? The blood in you tastes sweet yet sour like berries. To prove yourself as not poison walk through these forlorn passages. Where brambles doth recede for soft feet to tread.” her mystic words choke the air and burn in my chest.

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The Fracture: An Alchemist’s Greatest Tools — A Grimoire and Curiosity (Part 4 of 7)

Fear. I listen to my heart pounding so hard it resonates in my ears. My thoughts scream “RUN!!!” and my body froze. Like a reoccurring nightmare I see the horror coming but haven’t the strength to escape. Something tugs at my pant leg. I look down at the dog and smile.

“You have me here.” the dog’s action appears to say.

I force my knees to pick up my legs. We walk backwards using the trees for cover. The giant snorts while rubbing its eyes. It turns in our direction forcing us to dive behind a large tree stump. I ready the book as the dog’s hackles rise. In our surprise loud rumbling sounds come from its direction.

“Guhyon turkah rulas. . .” the giant’s forlorn language echoes. Each word intertwines with the natural world as if they were a gale of wind or the ebb of a river. I step out from behind the tree with my hands open and out. The giant stares at me for a bit then breathes in deeply. We stand there in complete silence.

“Hello. Do you speak Gahlian?”

“Gahlian. English. Human. They are all the same. A different season, the same year. I guess you don’t understand Her language. It’s not written. It’s felt.”

“A breeze and a river. Isn’t there flooding from the rain in the valleys?”

“Ah, you can feel it. Yes. Something unknown threatens Her grounds by bringing rain through Elven tears. I sense their sorrow. These rains bring much more than flooding. It wounds Her, the All Mother.” The giant rubs its watery eyes. “I came here in search of anything. These lowlands speak with idle tongues. A sign of Her benevolence.”

I repeat its words in my head. The longing and anguish in its words pierce my heart with a blade oiled with poison. A breathlessness overtakes me. I hold myself up with a tree. We stand there in silence again. The giant sees physical pain showing on my face. I clear my throat.

“I can feel your pain. I carry my burdens too. We have been exiled from my home. All we can do is move forward. We’re heading west in search of tomorrow.”

“You’ll never cross the river.”

“I’ll figure it out.” I show him the grimoire.

“A maji and a black dog? My people have tales about such a pact. The effigy child and the beast of the night. Ostracized. Exiled. Not forgotten. I truly wish you luck on your journey. Curha moru daelum. May the storm pass.” almost as quickly as the giant appears it disappears.

The black dog rubs up against my leg. We look towards the mountain ahead. I reach down and pet him. His cold ethereal form from earlier feels like a distant memory. A warmness radiates from its chest. I smile. If we have a pact I guess you want something. I want purpose. You want a friend. Maybe? There must be more.

I kneel down by the dog and hold him. The warmness grows further. Time freezes around us. I open my heart up feeling his darkness seep in. He tries getting away but I tighten my grip. Droplets of darkness stain my heart as tears fall from the dry crevices of my eyes. I know he’s made from pain and hate. And still I can never break this bond we share.

“I think you need a name. Daefyr? You can be the fire of the day even with you being created by shadows. Nobody can deny anyone that.”

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Morning Light

To Be True to Yourself

Everyone wants a place to belong
And a chance at happiness. Imagine,
What will people do without either?
They wage physical and psychological war.

I cross through the sea of their rage
In an exodus from their golden age.
Oh is my heart right? I keep breathing,
It’s all I can do. Yeah, no escaping.

The fact is I’d fight for the right
Of that opinion you hold so tight.
We have to stand up and fight.

Our enemies use our own morals against us.
To divide us. Why do we hate what makes us us?
See there’s a point where others manipulate us
For their own benefit. They don’t care about us.

Try to remember:
We have both a heart and a mind, to love and to understand.
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Live; Don’t Run Away

Traversing pass thousands of stars.
The river erases everything even scars.

Greedily holding onto this one, lonely sunset
We burn our hands. The way barred by a lack
Of dreams and a melancholy sickness. Hack
And cough up the ilk we take as our regiment.

Who knows what’s right any longer?
A masquerade that never ends despite
All of the tears behind carbon masks.
We see the headlines reading our wounds,
Self-inflicted and left to go septic.
Run in circles and scream for change
From ourselves; it’s only our fault.

When we take off the masks we’re fearful
Of everyone else. The monsters in our heads
Were born when we fell so low to the floor.

Between the burn and the fall gain humility.
Entertain the idea that we all might be wrong
In this expansive universe. Dreams so strong
They can shatter through our false reality.

If we keep heading in the same direction we will reach where we’re headed. We can hope for a miracle or forget the bad but that ain’t an answer. Face the darkest and brightest day with the same desire to see tomorrow. ~ Don’t follow those that can’t discern their heart from a crowd. Because the worst thing we can become is numb and dismissive.

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The Heart’s Wind

I’ve been watching with my two eyes,
Listening with my two ears, and still
My two hands fumble. The goodbyes
Are nothing but disguised lies that fill
Empty spaces in my heart. All the days
Gone by I keep on my way up a steep hill.

When did I change or did I find
Out just who I really, truly am?

Memories can haunt like creeping shadows.
They’re simply changing my perspective
Of this life, and please keep in retrospective
View that before these clouds were rainbows.

Better times? No, ignorant and blind
Of the fact that life’s found in the wind.
We must make choices without a rewind.

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Evening Wind by Hangmoon

Sometimes we lose sight of the reasons why we did what we did. Heck, there are times we really shouldn’t have done what we did but there’s always a driving force. It isn’t survival instincts or anything profound we simply made a choice. The consequences exist like dominoes falling but, you’ll live in the end and so will everyone else involved. Be who you are because only you understand what that means. Mistakes happen just keep following the wind in your heart. It’ll never mislead you.

The MAJI

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

Brighter Skies

Between the truths that I’ve seen
And the words I’ve heard I find
Life. Stand up to see another day.

The darkest part of the evenin’
Beseeches the dawn. Stay keen,
We’re taking a journey through wind
And rain. Just don’t fall too far behind
Others need you. All you got to do is stay,
Be a beacon. Look forward in life’s fray.

It gets tough but we’re heading out for brighter skies.
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Can’t Look Away

Heavy is the weight we all carry
Through these valleys of green
As we believe in what’s between
Hands held together. It isn’t that merry.

I’ve seen the dark and the light others hold.
They don’t know the weight of their actions
And I suffer when I see invisible tears
Fall.

I can’t look away. My heart knows this pain
That others try to hide. Let me be the rain
And I’ll wash away each and every stain.

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Defiant Hearts (A Spear of Light)

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.

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