Breaking From The Pond

I was on a ship.

And it wasn’t mine.

I was on a ship, stuck in a pond, forced to watch the sun dip behind the ocean, all while stuck on this ship that wasn’t mine, in a pond that was unfamiliar to me, in a land that I only knew from a dream long ago.

I was stuck on this ship.

In this pond.

Watching the sun set over the horizon. Promising stars and guidance on the other side of the skyline. Out there, in the wild of the ocean, I could sail. Guided by thousands of burning lights.

But…

I was stuck.

On this ship that wasn’t mine.

In this infinitesimally small pond.

Int his land that was completely foreign to me.

No, this ship, and this pond, and this land… it definitely wasn’t mine.

It was his. Continue reading “Breaking From The Pond”

Woven Fate

Knitting is no easy task.

It requires a lot of forethought, a lot of focus. A lot of careful analysis of what you’re doing, and when.

Or, you could not care. Knit whatever you knit. Be it mittens or blankets or hats. You could be careless with the color scheme, careless with design, careless with how tight the cloth was bound. You could be careless.

But that’s not the way of fate.

Continue reading “Woven Fate”

Hazy Dreams, Sleeping Memory

A hundred years I slept.

Do you know how many dreams you can have in a hundred years?

A lot.

An awful lot.

Especially if you’re sleeping through those hundred years.

Things start to make less and less sense as you sleep. Was that a memory that just floated by? Or another dream? Is this dissipating fog real?

Or not?

When you wake, everything rests in that cloud of dreams. Of memories. Stuck in the valley of things that come and go. Of things that can be barely seen, and never grasped

What’s real?

What’s not?

After a hundred years of sleep…

It’s hard to tell.

Continue reading “Hazy Dreams, Sleeping Memory”

Gryphon’s Disciple

“That’s not my name.”

Those were the first words you said to me.

To me.

The Mighty Gryphon. A beast like no other. Lord of Magic, Watcher of the Mountains. Harbinger of Fall and Beast of the Rising Tide. Timeless Warrior. Champion of Valken. Raiser of Scourge.

I gave you a name.

And you—a tiny, puny human without a single light in your sky— you tell me:

“That’s not my name.”

Forgive me for laughing, but, I know.

This is going to be one long, hard task. Continue reading “Gryphon’s Disciple”

Thorny Fate

I am not here of my own accord.

Fate was set. Pulled into motion. Gears of time and space and virtue, all meshing together to tick down. To continue counting the seconds until the bell would toll. Until the hammer would strike.

I am not here of my own accord, I can promise you that.

However.

I am here.

And I am no fool.

And so:

I must do what it is that I was destined to do. Regardless of how I feel, of what I want, I know what I must do, and I will do it.

Pave the way.
Continue reading “Thorny Fate”

What The Smoke Says

When I see the red smoke, I count the tendrils.

Every time.

And, every time, the number is smaller. The smoke climbing higher. The days drawing closer.

They will come for me.

Three tendrils.

Two tendrils.

Tomorrow.

They will come for me.

And, when they do, I’ll be waiting.

I’ll be waiting. Continue reading “What The Smoke Says”

Hyde Within

It tasted like sanitizer. Like rubbing alcohol. Like pouring acid down my throat. A plastic bottle full of poison.

But I drank anyway.

Let the burn run through me as the haze settled in. As I started to sway, to fog up.

To forget.

An impossible thing, forgetting.

But I’ll try anyway. Continue reading “Hyde Within”

Falling To Fate

“I don’t believe in fairytales,” he grumbled over the lip of his pint. Already drowning in the liquid, as this wasn’t his first drink.

Hell, it wasn’t even his second, or third.

It was his fifteenth.

I swear, that wolf can really put ’em away.

“I don’ believe in ’em, ya hear me?” He growled, his claws digging into the metal.

“Aye, I hear ya. Drink that up bud, and then be on your way. The hunters will be out soon.”

“Hrggh,” he grumbled.

But he did as he was told. Bless his tired, drunk soul.

Sitting up, he tipped his drink all the way back. Guzzling it like a pro, very little sloshing out the sides of his snout.

When it was gone, he slammed it down like any lad would, wiped his face-fur on his sleeve, threw a few coins down, saluted, and then stumbled his way out the door.

“Is he always like that?” the kid at the bar asked as the wolf tumbled into the night.

I shrugged. “Just when he stumbles across kids in red hoods.”

“What’s he mean, he don’t believe in fairytales?”

I shrugged. Pretended not to know. Then went about my business. Cleaning mugs, refilling drinks.

It was dishonest of me, sure, but.

It wasn’t really my place to tell the kid that the Big Bad Wolf doesn’t believe in himself.

Was it? Continue reading “Falling To Fate”

Silver Colored Stupid

“Are you… painting? …again?”

I, in fact, was painting again.

But I wasn’t going to admit that out loud.

“Did you need something Silver? Or are you just here to be a nuisance?”

Silver just looked at me, a bit dumbfounded. Just for a moment. If he let the look linger too long, he knew I’d slap it off his face.

“Oh, uh, I just wanted to borrow your copy of DragonKnack again. If that’s alright,” he tacked on the last bit in an attempt to sound more polite.

Which I knew was a farce.

Silver Owens was anything but polite.

…it’s probably why he irritated me so much.

Probably.

Without saying a word, I ventured back inside to grab the game.

When I returned and thrusted the box at Silver, he looked a little shocked.

“Uh, thanks,” he said, voice colored with uncertainty.

“Yeah, yeah. Return it tomorrow please.”

And I shut the door. It was all I could do to keep from exploding.

Because this was stupid. This whole thing was stupid.

I still couldn’t believe it.

I was in love with Silver Owens.

And I still didn’t have the heart to tell myself.  Continue reading “Silver Colored Stupid”